accommodated, on his arrival in London, “in the humbler regions of the Adelphi;” and where he was unexpectedly visited by Mark Tapley, who then and there became his “nat’ral born servant, hired by fate,” and his very faithful friend.—See “Martin Chuzzlewit,” chapter 13.

Farther onwards, on the same side, towards the centre of the Strand, there stood near Savoy Street the house which in all probability was the Residence of Miss La Creevy.  It will be recollected that Ralph Nickleby, visiting his relations at this address in the Strand, is described as stopping

“At a private door, about halfway down that crowded thoroughfare.”

No. 111 was an old-fashioned house in just such a position, with a private door—a somewhat unusual convenience in the Strand.  A photographer’s case had, for many years, displaced the “large gilt frame screwed upon the street door,” in which Miss La Creevy aforetime displayed her painted miniatures.  The place has been pulled down, together with the adjoining house.  Handsome modern business premises are erected on the double site.—See “Nicholas Nickleby,” chapter 2.

We now cross to the north side of the Strand, and take the next turning on the left, Wellington Street North.  Passing the Lyceum Theatre, we may note, on the opposite side, the offices of the Gaiety Theatre, No. 16.  For many years this was the Office of “Household Words”; this well-known miscellany being started under the conductorship of Charles Dickens, March 30, 1850.

It was afterwards removed to No. 26, higher up, on the same side of the way, at which address the later issue of All the Year Round was published, as conducted by Charles Dickens, the son.

Proceeding a short distance onwards, and turning to the left, we come into the precincts of Covent Garden Market.  At the south corner of Russell Street we may note the position of the old Hummums Hotel, mentioned in “Great Expectations” as the place where Pip slept, in accordance with the warning received from Mr. Wemmick—“Don’t go home.”

The present establishment was erected on the site of the former hotel (as it stood in the days of Mr. Pip’s sojourn), 1892; on completion of the new Flower Market, The Tavistock Hotel, Piazzas, on the north side of the market, was the house at which were held the fortnightly meetings of “The Finches of the Grove,” Herbert Pocket and Mr. Pip being members of the Club known by this appellation in the book above mentioned.  The end and aim of this institution seemed to be “that the members should dine expensively once a fortnight, to quarrel among themselves as much as possible after dinner, and to cause six waiters to get drunk on the stairs.”

A general description of Covent Garden will be found in “Little Dorrit” (chapter 14), and a graphic reference to “the seamy side” of this locality is contained in the pages of “Our Mutual Friend” (chapter 9, Book 4).

Returning by Russell Street, we soon reach Bow Street, and on the left may observe an open space contiguous to the Foreign Fruit Market.  On this space there stood No. 4, in recent times occupied by Mr. Stinchcombe, costumier.  Some years since this was the situation of Bow Street Police Court, now removed to the handsome new building facing Covent Garden Theatre.  This, therefore, was the place at which the Artful Dodger, when committed for trial by the presiding magistrate, thus reserved his defence:—

“This ain’t the shop for justice; besides which my attorney is a-breakfasting this morning with the Vice-President of the House of Commons; but I shall have something to say elsevere, and so will he, and so will a wery numerous and respectable circle of acquaintances, as’ll make them beaks wish they’d never been born.”—See “Oliver Twist,” chapter 43.

At a short distance onwards, we may note Covent Garden Theatre, selected by David Copperfield as his first place of entertainment in London, after dinner at the Golden Cross Hotel—

“Being then in a pleasant frame of mind . . . I resolved to go to the play.  It was Covent Garden Theatre that I chose; and there, from the back of a centre box, I saw “Julius Cæsar” and the new pantomime.  To have all those noble Romans alive before me, and walking in and out for my entertainment, instead of being the stern taskmasters they had been at school, was a most novel and delightful effect.”

This theatre, as attended by David, was destroyed by fire March 4, 1856, six years after his autobiography was published, and afterwards rebuilt.

Exactly opposite the façade of the theatre is Broad Court, past the new magisterial building above referred to.  This was the location given by Mr. Snevellicci (at Portsmouth), on a convivial occasion, described in “Nicholas Nickleby” (chapter 30), as his London address:—

“I am not ashamed of myself; Snevellicci is my name.  I’m to be found in Broad Court, Bow Street, when I’m in town.  If I’m not at home, let any man ask for me at the stage-door.”

There is also historical reference to Bow Street in “Barnaby Rudge,” as the place where “another boy was hanged,” after the suppression of the Gordon riots.

Exactly facing the north end of Bow Street, which gives into Long Acre, is a large building, now a stationer’s warehouse, recently used as the Clergy Co-operative Stores.  Thirty-five years since this site was occupied by St. Martin’s Hall, in which Dickens gave his first series of paid readings in London (sixteen nights), under the management of Mr. Arthur Smith, 1858.  The hall was a short time afterwards burnt down, and the Queen’s Theatre was here erected in its stead by Mr. Wigan; which theatre was since converted to the commercial uses of the Clergy as aforesaid.

Proceeding up Long Acre to Drury Lane, we turn to the right, and in five minutes pass the back of Drury Lane Theatre.  The second turning on the same side is Russell Court, a narrow passage leading to Catherine Street.  The entire area between the two streets, for some distance, is cleared for building improvements, so that the indications immediately following refer to the past, and not practically to the present.  These things have been, but are not.

In this court, about halfway on the right, was to be found (until 1897) the entrance to what was once the pauper Burial Ground where Captain Hawdon—known as Nemo in the pages of “Bleak House”—was interred, and where Lady Dedlock was afterwards found dead at the gateway, she having fled from her husband, Sir Leicester, in despair, dreading the exposé threatened by Mr. Tulkinghorn.  It is also associated with Poor Jo, the crossing-sweeper.—See “Bleak House,” chapters 11 and 59.

“With houses looking on, on every side, save where a reeking little tunnel of a court gives access to the iron gate—with every villainy of life in action close on death, and every poisonous element of death in action close on life—here, they lower our dear brother down a foot or two: here, sow him in corruption, to be raised in incorruption: an avenging ghost at many a sick bedside: a shameful testimony to future ages, how civilisation and barbarism walked this boastful island together.”

This intermural