The Royal Mews was established at Bloomsbury (Lomesbury) from very early times to 1537, when it was burnt down and the mews removed to the site of the present National Gallery (see The Strand, same series).
The parish is largely composed of squares, containing three large and two small ones, from which nearly all the streets radiate. The British Museum forms an imposing block in the centre. This is on the site of Montague House, built for the first Baron Montague, and burnt to the ground in 1686. It was rebuilt again in great magnificence, with painted ceilings, according to the taste of the time, and Lord Montague, then Duke of Montague, died in it in 1709. The house and gardens occupied seven acres. The son and heir of the first Duke built for himself a mansion at Whitehall (see Westminster, same series, p. 83), and Montague House was taken down in 1845, when the present buildings of the Museum were raised in its stead.
The Museum has rather a curious history. Like many of our national institutions, it was the result of chance, and not of a detailed scheme. In 1753 Sir Hans Sloane, whose name is associated so strongly with Chelsea, died, and left a splendid collection comprising "books, drawings, manuscripts, prints, medals, seals, cameos, precious stones, rare vessels, mathematical instruments, and pictures," which had cost him something like £50,000. By his will Parliament was to have the first refusal of this collection for £20,000. Though it was in the reign of the needy George II., the sum was voted, and by the same Act was bought the Harleian collection of MSS. to add to it; to this was added the Cottonian Library of MSS., and the nation had a ready-made collection. The money to pay for the Sloane and Harleian collections was raised by an easy method of which modern morals do not approve—that is to say, by lottery. Many suggestions were made as to the housing of this national collection. Buckingham House, now Buckingham Palace, was spoken of, also the old Palace Yard; of course, the modern Houses of Parliament were not then built. Eventually Montague House was bought, and the Museum was opened to the public in 1757. However, it had not ceased growing. George III. presented some antiquities, which necessitated the opening of a new department; to these were added the Hamilton and Townley antiquities by purchase, and in 1816 the Elgin Marbles were taken in temporarily. On the death of George III., George IV. presented his splendid library, known as the King's Library, to the Museum, not from any motive of generosity, but because he did not in the least appreciate it. Greville, in his Journal (1823), says: "The King had even a design of selling the library collected by the late King, but this he was obliged to abandon, for the Ministers and the Royal Family must have interposed to oppose so scandalous a transaction. It was therefore presented to the British Museum."
It then became necessary to pull down Montague House and build a Museum worthy of the treasures to be enshrined. Sir Robert Smirke was the architect, and the present massive edifice is from his designs. The buildings cost more than £800,000.
As this is no guide-book, no attempt is made to classify the departments of the Museum or to indicate its riches. These may be found by experiment, or read in the official guides to be bought on the spot.
On the east is Montague Street, running into Russell Square.
Southampton House, the ancient manor-house, celebrated for the famous lime-trees surrounding it, stood on the ground now occupied by Bedford Place. Noorthouck describes it as "elegant though low, having but one storey." It is commonly supposed to have been the work of Inigo Jones. When the property came into the Bedford family, it was occasionally called Russell House, after their family name. Maitland says that, when he wrote, one of the Parliamentary forts, two batteries, and a breastwork, remained in the garden. The house was demolished in 1800, and Russell Square was begun soon after. A double row of the lime-trees belonging to Bedford House had extended over the site of this Square. All this ground had previously been known as Southampton Fields, or Long Fields, and was the resort of low classes of the people, who here fought their pitched battles, generally on Sundays. It was known during the period of Monmouth's Rebellion as the Field of the Forty Footsteps, owing to the tradition that two brothers killed each other here in a duel, while the lady who was the cause of the conflict looked on. Subsequently no grass grew on the spots where the brothers had planted their feet.
Southey, in his "Commonplace Book," thus narrates his own visit to the spot:
"We sought for near half an hour in vain. We could find no steps at all within a quarter of a mile, no, nor half a mile, of Montague House. We were almost out of hope, when an honest man, who was at work, directed us to the next ground, adjoining to a pond. There we found what we sought, about three-quarters of a mile north of Montague House, and 500 yards east of Tottenham Court Road. The steps are of the size of a large human foot, about three inches deep, and lie nearly from north-east to south-west. We counted only seventy-six; but we were not exact in counting. The place where one or both the brothers are supposed to have fallen is still bare of grass. The labourer also showed us where (the tradition is) the wretched woman sat to see the combat." Southey adds his full confidence in the tradition of the indestructibility of the steps, even after ploughing up, and of the conclusions to be drawn from the circumstance (Notes and Queries, No. 12).
A long-forgotten novel, called "Coming Out; or, The Field of the Forty Footsteps," was founded on this legend, as was also a melodrama.