Here the Duke of Ormond (1669) was installed Chancellor of the University of Oxford, and in 1674 the Duke of Monmouth Chancellor of the University of Cambridge. The Worcester House Conference was also held in the hall of this place. Beaufort Buildings occupy a part of the site. The house itself was destroyed by the Duke of Beaufort.

Exeter Street and Hall (north) preserve the name of Exeter House, built by Lord Burleigh. It was at first Cecil House, but on the succession of his eldest son, the Earl of Exeter, elder brother of Sir Robert Cecil, it became Exeter House. Afterwards the house was used by Doctors of Ecclesiastical Law, etc., and later was converted into an exchange, at first designed for the sale of fancy goods, but later famous for an exhibition of wild beasts. The body of Gay the poet rested in this Exchange before being interred in Westminster Abbey.

Exeter Hall was erected in 1830 for the purpose of religious meetings. Exeter Street will always be associated with the name of Dr. Johnson, who took lodgings here when he came up to London first, and dined at a neighbouring cookshop for eightpence.

The Lyceum Theatre was designed by S. Beazley, and opened in 1834. It will be always associated with the names of Sir Henry Irving and Ellen Terry. It stands on the site of the English Opera-House, burnt down in 1830, which during many years was the home of a quaint convivial gathering, called the Beefsteak Society, founded by Rich and Lambert in 1735. The members dined together off beefsteaks at five o'clock on Saturdays from November until the end of June. The gridiron was their emblem.

Just before arriving at Wellington Street there is a glimpse of green trees, and of a brilliant bed of flowers, down a little narrow street on the south side of the Strand. Many people must have noticed these things, few have had the curiosity to explore further; yet it is well worth while to get down from omnibus or cab and venture into this little backwater of the Savoy. Between eleven and one, and two and four o'clock every day the garden gate is open, and the verger is in the chapel, ready to answer questions. The little graveyard garden, with its waving trees, is a veritable oasis in the desert of brick and mortar, and the quaint chapel with its turret forms a suitable background. The precincts of the Savoy appertain to the Duchy of Lancaster, and as such are royal property; the reigning Sovereign keeps up the place, and pays for choir and service. In former days many irregular marriages were performed here, until the place gained a reputation second only to the Fleet Prison. Weddings are still held here, though the procedure is now strictly legal. The origin of the church was in the reign of Henry VII., but the fire which raged in 1864, and burnt out the interior, destroyed many old relics, and the present interior is Early Victorian. There is a curious old oil-painting opposite the door, which looks as if it had been part of a triptych, and in the chancel two quaint little stone figures, which survived the fire. The latest stained-glass window was filled in quite recently in memory of D'Oyley Carte. It was unveiled by Sir Henry Irving in the spring of 1902. Several persons of importance have been buried here, but none whose names are sufficiently well known to merit quotation. Many Bishops have been consecrated in the chapel, and it was here that the memorable Conference on the Book of Common Prayer took place in Charles II.'s reign. The chapel was made parochial after the greedy Somerset had destroyed the first Church of St. Mary le Strand, in order to use its materials for his own mansion. It had before that time been dedicated to St. John the Baptist, but was henceforth known as St. Mary le Savoy.

The history of the precinct of Savoy is difficult to treat in a volume like the present, because it requires a book to itself. It is not the paucity of material, but the quantity, that is embarrassing. The great palace which stood here first was built by Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, one of the Barons to whom our present Constitution is due. By one of the frequent vicissitudes of the times, when no man's land or property was safe, this palace came into the hands of King Henry III., who took the opportunity of a visit from his wife's uncle, Peter of Savoy (afterwards Earl of Savoy and Richmond), to present it to him. Peter either gave it to or exchanged it with a religious fraternity, from whom it was rebought by the Queen, Eleanor, who gave it to her son Edmund, Earl of Lancaster.

After the Battle of Poitiers, King John of France was brought here a prisoner, and, oddly enough, though he was soon set at liberty, his death occurred here many years later when he had returned to make amends for the escape of one of his sons held hostage by the English until the payment of his ransom.

John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, had made the palace into a most magnificent building, and here he lived in great state. Chaucer, Froissart and Wycliff are mentioned as having been his frequent guests. In the sack of the town by Wat Tyler this house particularly attracted the attention of the unruly mob, who did their utmost to wreck it, and were assisted by the explosion of several barrels of gunpowder, which, ignorant of their contents, they had thrown upon the flames. The costly plate and rich furniture were flung into the Thames by the rioters. After this it lay in ruins until King Henry VII., himself a descendant of John of Gaunt, founded here a hospital for 100 poor people, but he hardly lived to see his project carried out. Amid the general spoliation of the religious houses that followed, Henry VIII. seems to have respected his father's wish and left the hospital alone. It is described as a goodly building in the form of a cross. However, it was suppressed under Edward VI., and restored by Mary, whose maids of honour "did with exemplary piety furnish it with all necessaries." Elizabeth laid hands on it, and later it seems to have been reserved for such nobles as had the favour of the Crown and the right of free quarters, something in the same way as Hampton Court is reserved at present. There is an illustration by Hollar showing the palace-hospital as it was in 1650. It is right on the water's edge, presenting a very solid line of wall to the river, pierced by two rows of small windows. In the upper stories the parapet is battlemented, and a square tower built over arches projects from the frontage. We have also a plan of about a hundred years later (1754), showing the congeries of buildings that then covered the precincts. The part near the river is marked "Dwellings"; the ancient hospital has become "barracks." There is a military prison at the west side, and churches of the German Calvinist, German Lutheran and French persuasions are all within the walls.

The present church in this plan is at the north-west end, and all the above-mentioned buildings are to the south and east of it, covering ground now devoted to offices and mansions. A good deal of the buildings was standing even at the beginning of the nineteenth century, when it was demolished to make way for the approaches to Waterloo Bridge.

At the east corner of what is now Wellington Street stood Wimbledon House, built by Sir Edward Cecil, son to the first Earl of Exeter. It was burned down in 1628.