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SAMUEL JOHN ON'S LONDON EACH year London gentlemen make most unattractive, to say the least. There a journey to Lichfield on Septem- were no sidewalks but, in the streets most ber 7, there to visit Johnson's birth- congested with traffic, posts were set up place, the little bookseller's shop, and the along the sides to safeguard pedestrians Three Crowns. And yet it is not Lichfield against being run over by carriages and which comes first into our minds when carts. Surface water and filth were carried thinking of Johnson, but London—Fleet off in open drains, or gutters, which ran Street, Bolt Court, and the Mitre Tavern. through the middle of the streets, to the Johnson had a genuine affection for Lich- great detriment of the gentlemen's white field and his friends there, but his real love silk stockings. Stone doorsteps jutted out was given to London, and Boswell tells us, into the pavements so that it was difficult "He would have thought himself an exile to walk at night, especially since the light- in any other place." He evidently thought ing system was very inadequate. Robber- that the road which led to London was the ies were so numerous as to make firearms most alluring of all prospects, not only for necessary; so Dr. Johnson may be pardoned a Scotchman but for all others as well, for for his warlike preparations for his trip to he said, "When a man is tired of London, the Hebrides. Until 1736 the only method he is tired of life; for there is in London all of lighting the town was by candles, each that life can afford." householder being required to keep a can- Yet to us a description of eighteenth cen- dle burning before his house from six until tury London does not seem exactly that of eleven in the evening. Then, because of Elysium. The streets were narrow and the increased robberies and murders, oil 200 THE VIRGINIA TEACHER [Vol. 13, No. 9

lamps were substituted. These, which were ments, exhibitions, public establishments, kept in order by the lamplighters hired by and remarkable objects in and near Lon- the city officials, were paid for by a tax don." This little red-bound book, then in levied upon the householders—a tax regu- its ninth edition, really did give a mass of lated by the amount of the rent of each miscellaneous material about the city and house. There were other street dangers, or its life—which is very interesting when certainly nuisances: rubbish in heaps along compared with our own time. Many pages the way, numbers of mad dogs, swarms of of this book are devoted to public amuse- beggars, ruinous houses, cattle driven ments and galleries: Drury Lane, Covent through the streets. Garden, the Italian Opera, the Pantheon, The living conditions of the London or the summer spectacles at Haymarket populace were poor. The drinking water, Theatre, Vauxhall Gardens, and other which was by this time piped into practi- places. But this was not Johnson's Lon- cally all the houses of the city, was brought don. While he loved to be entertained, and in wooden mains from the Thames, or was the most sociable of men, he did not— from ponds, and there seem to have been no dressed in velvet coat, lace ruffles, and filtration plants, though there were some curled wig—-step into a sedan chair and hie complaints as to the number of bathers in away to the resorts of the average pleasure- the Thames every Sunday morning. Nor seeker. Instead—in shabby coat, with was the water supply always at hand at the "snuffy" ruffles, if any, and his old scorched turn of a tap, but it was furnished on only wig—he would take his lumbering way three days in the week. Needless to say down to the Mitre Tavern, touching each that epidemics were many and fearful, and post on the way, and muttering to himself the mortality rate was very high. Not only as he rolled along. It was not the gay pa- was the drinking water unsafe and all san- geantry of the Thames pleasure-boats which itary conditions very bad, but there were he sought, but the brilliant wit and enliven- no laws to guarantee the quality of food- ing conversation of his literary friends stuffs. Bread was not, in the main, adul- around a bottle of port. terated; but other foods were, particularly Johnson's London was the London of milk, and in the milk-houses it was the reg- Fleet Street and its environs, a quarter ular custom to have a pump to simplify the north of the Strand occupied by coffee matter of watering this beverage. houses, taverns, theatres, a great market, There were two extremes in London life and the people belonging to these places. of the eighteenth century—squalor, pov- Even yet is Fleet Street associated with lit- erty, and filth on one hand; luxury, gayety, erary work and publishers, and today this and extravagance on the other. There was street, or piece of street, is filled with the London of St. James's and the Pall newspaper offices and the lodgings of those Mall and Hyde Park section; there was the who carry on such work. In and around London of the wharf rats or of the tumble- this street, in this limited district lying just down houses on London Bridge. But outside one of the western gates of the old Johnson's London was not in either of city walls, Johnson lived for forty-seven these. Though occasionally in touch with years, driving down through Southwark to both extremes, Johnson was of neither. Streatham, venturing out to the royal li- In 1808 there was published in London brary at the palace, going for an occasional a little book of 4 by S inches, but made up visit to Lichfield or Oxford, or even pene- of over 460 pages, which claimed to be a trating the dreadful wilds of Scotland, but "correct guide to all the curiosities, amuse- always coming home to Fleet Street. He December, 1932] THE VIRGINIA TEACHER 201 agreed with Boswell in saying that no beau- short while in Bow Street. All the great ties of nature could be equal to Fleet Street. authors and actors had lived here when the In all Johnson's life in London he had place was more fashionable. Here John- lodgings in seventeen different places. The son dwelt when drudging for Cave, tramp- first of these was in Exeter Street, opening ing out perpetually to St. John's Gate in into the Strand. Here, when in 1737 he and Clerkenwell to see him, and there frequent- Garrick came to London, Johnson lodged ly dining behind a screen, since he did not in a garret at the house of Norris, a stay- consider himself well enough dressed to ap- maker, and finished writing his Irene. pear in company with Cave's more distin- Here in this Venetian street, looking out on guished guests. the water which glittered under the sun or There were other dwelling places of turned leaden under the clouds, he lived as Johnson's, of which but little is known. He a struggler. At the eight-penny ordinary, had for a short time a lodging in Wood- the Pine Apple, in New Street, where he stock Street, far away from printers and dined, he was noticeable for his gaunt, taverns; there was a brief stay in that lank form and scarred, twitching face, but grimy defile known as Fetter Lane; and he more for his learning and for his conver- also lived for a time in Bedford Street in a sational powers. For some time he lived on house opposite Henrietta Street. This was four-pence-halfpenny a day, and paid visits one of those thoroughfares in which the on clean-shirt days only. Pie met "very traffic was sufficiently heavy to necessitate good company" at the Pine Apple; for the use of posts to safeguard pedestrians though no one knew his neighbor's name, from vehicles and horses. Sheridan and some had traveled. "It used to cost the Whyte once came to call at the house in rest," the Doctor related proudly in after- Bedford Street, and there were watching life at great tables, "a shilling, for they for Johnson's return. Aided by an opera drank wine; but I had a cut of meat for glass they could recognize him at quite a sixpence, and bread for a penny, so that I distance, and were amused to see him lum- was quite well served; nay, better than the bering along, with that queer rolling gait of rest, for they gave the waiter nothing." his, and laying his hand on every post he This Exeter Street was that in which Exe- passed. If by chance he had overlooked ter House once stood, and where lived Earl one, he would return and rest his' hand up- Cecil, son of the celebrated Burleigh. There on it a second and then resume his walk. was a wide gap between the Exeter Street He also for a time had lodgings in the of Johnson's garret, amidst most unsavory Temple. But the lodgings which seem truly surroundings, and the Exeter Street of associated with Johnson—his real homes—- Elizabethan days—days when the street was were the houses of Fleet Street or, rather, ever rustling with satin, when gilded the houses in those little courts which coaches were constantly passing and silk opened into Fleet Street: Johnson's Court, canopied boats putting off to Elizabeth's Gough Square, and Bolt Court. The house palaces, either at Greenwich or Whitehall. in Gough Square is, in some ways, most It was to a house in Oxford Street that closely connected with him, and is today the Johnson brought his fat, red-cheeked Tet- shrine to which pilgrims repair. To reach ty. At that time this was a section quite this, one should walk westward down Fleet unfashionable, and here Johnson was prob- Street, on the side opposite the Temple, un- ably further away from Fleet Street than til he comes to a narrow opening called at any other period during his London resi- Johnson's Court. Having turned up that dence. About this time also he lived for a passage, he will enter a square, Bolt Court, 202 THE VIRGINIA TEACHER [Vol. 13, No. 9 from which there appears to be no outlet; the house, though Johnson did not meet the but there is one at the far end, and through Thrales until after he had left Gough this a winding way leads to Gough Square. Square. On the next floor there is a large Here, at No. 17, the house still stands in room containing many books dealing with which Samuel Johnson lived from 1748 to Johnson, his friends, his times. Visitors 1758 and compiled the Dictionary that are, under suitable conditions, allowed the brought him eternal fame. Here, too, "dear great privilege of consulting these rare and Tetty" died. To one side of the simple delightful volumes. There are here many doorway is a plaque which reads; early editions of books which it is a joy to Dr. Samuel Johnson see and to handle. On a table are the two Author great brown folios of the Dictionary, But Lived Here the crowning glory of the house is the attic, B. 1709 D. 1784 which stretches over the whole building. It has windows on three sides, in addition to a The house belongs to Mr. Harmsworth, skylight over the stairs. In this room the who preserves it with pious care and also Dictionary was compiled. There was plen- allows the public to visit it. No. 17 is sur- ty of room here for the "six amanuenses, rounded by an iron railing, protecting a tiny five of them natives of North Britain." We garden. The visitor enters a pleasant hall, can go to each window in turn and look out hung with pictures which illustrate inci- over the London that Johnson loved. Here dents in the life of Johnson and containing is London, the heart of London. Here St. some pieces of good furniture, which are of Paul's dome and golden cross, there the his period, if they never belonged to him. church towers that must be St. Sepulchre's Over the door is a closely leaded fanlight, —old houses, old roofs, romance. Phelps and the door also has an ingenious fastening says : "If the spirit of our host ever returns as a safeguard against burglary. Leading to this house, I think he visits the room in into the cellar are the steep steps up which which he 'tugged at the oar.' It is a good Francis Barber had to trip, and Phelps room in which to think and, clearing the thinks the steps in themselves furnish suf- mind of cant, to pray for some measure of ficient explanation of the reason for Bar- the faith, courage, and honesty of Samuel ber's going to sea. Opening into this en- Johnson." trance hall is a room paneled in pine—a It was to Johnson's Court that he moved paneling which, though rough, has become soon after meeting Boswell, and here the a lovely rose-brown color. In this room are Scotchman frequently visited him. In fact, attractive windows with perfectly square Boswell was rather distressed when he panes and deep window seats. The room is found later that Johnson had left the place filled with relics of Johnson, and many of which bore his name, even though it was his letters are here preserved under glass. not named for him. Here Miss Williams On the second floor (in England called the lived on the ground floor and Mr. Levett in first floor) there are two good rooms, the the garret, while on the floor between John- most attractive seemingly a drawing room. son had his sleeping quarters and his study, It is paneled and painted in cream and has with his untidy but well-worn folios. Here a kind of Chinese molding about three feet he read and wrote and planned, with more from the floor. Quite evidently it was a light and air than he had previously enjoyed lady's drawing room, but it seems a little in the Temple, where he had occupied difficult to associate it with "dear Tetty." rooms after leaving Gough Square. There are many portraits of Mrs. Thrale in Number 8, Bolt Court, has long been December, 1932] THE VIRGINIA TEACHER 203 torn down; else this also would be a shrine, December 13, at seven o'clock, he, for whom perhaps more so than Gough Square, since Death had always held such terror, passed it was here that Johnson spent the last away so quietly that the watchers did not seven years of his life, and here that he en- know that the end had come. dured his last painful illness. Miss Wil- While his headquarters were largely in liams had lived here before he did, while he these grimy courts of Fleet Street, about lodged in Temple Lane, and Johnson would half way between the spire of St. Bride's go every night to drink tea with her, which and the spire of St. Clement Danes, much she always kept waiting for him, regardless of Johnson's real life was spent elsewhere: of the hour. Here at Bolt Court he kept in the taverns and coffee houses or in the his cat, Hodge, for which he used to go out homes of his friends. and buy oysters. Here on the ground floor The Fleet Street section was alive with poor blind Miss Williams served the tea, coffee houses and taverns. It is said that, sounding the cups with her fingers to see all counted, there were thirty-seven coffee whether they were full, to the great disgust houses in this quarter during Johnson's of Miss Reynolds and Mrs. Thrale. Here day. And the Lexicographer was a fa- was the little garden that the author of miliar figure in many of these. He might Rassclas loved; here were the book-piled be found at The Black Boy, in the Strand, rooms where he could think and fret and opposite the Adelphi; he might be found brood and storm as he liked. Here, near to at the Golden Anchor, at Holborn Bars; the friendly roar of Fleet Street, which he he was frequently found at Gray's Inn or loved, he was waited on by Frank Barber Staple Inn. At the King's Head Beef-steak and the silent old surgeon, Mr. Levett. House in Ivy Lane, Newgate Street, John- Here, we read in Haunted London, "used son organized his first club. The members to sit the lawgiver of the club, hoarding up were merchants, booksellers, physicians, and mysterious scraps of orange peel, eating dissenting ministers. Here, while the steak veal-pie and plums till perspiration dropped spluttered, Johnson would beat down his ad- from his forehead; sleeping late and then versaries with his conversational club, fre- repenting it; praying, resolving, twitching, quently talking more for victory than from grunting, shaking his head, puffing, blink- conviction. At the Essex Head in Essex ing, teasing Goldsmith and snubbing Bos- Street, in 1783, Johnson also organized a well; in a word, turning out down the club which was much less known. This was Court, wig hind before and stockings down, done for the benefit of Sam Greaves, an old amid the clamour of boys and the wonder servant of Mr. Thrale. They met three times of chairmen, to hand Mrs. Montague or be- a week—"the terms low, the expenses witching Miss Burney to her carriage." It light." He who missed forfeited two-pence, was here, too, in a quiet room at the back and each man was president in turn. Barry on the first (second) floor of this vanished was a member, but Sir Joshua Reynolds house that the Doctor died. Here to this would not join, being "afraid of Barry." quiet Court came Burke and Langton and Another haunt was the Queen's Arms in St. others of the Club to bid farewell to the Paul's churchyard. Here the Doctor got a dying man; here Reynolds promised to read friend to form a city club of quiet men, not the Bible and not to paint on Sundays, patriots. In this place Johnson dined the day Here, too, the old Doctor fully realized his Mrs. Thrale died, for he always dreaded condition and was glad to be told that his solitude. But it was at the Turk's Head in would be the honor of a burial-place in Gerrard Street, Soho, that the Club was or- Westminster. In Bolt Court on Monday, ganized. Started by Reynolds and Johnson, 204 THE VIRGINIA TEACHER [Vol. 13, No. 9 this was begun in 1764. It originally con- ternoon and never go home again till two in sisted of the members who met every Fri- the morning, afraid of solitude and the blue day night for supper. Here Sir John Haw- devils that lurked in the old Temple rooms, kins, that wrong-headed member, quarreled awaiting his return. The first time that with Burke; here Goldsmith tried to elbow Boswell and Johnson met at the Mitre it in his jokes; and here Reynolds shifted his was by the arrangement of Bozzy, for he ear-trumpet and took snuff. Hither came had heard that the Mitre was a place of Johnson from his room in Johnson's Court frequent resort with the Doctor, who used or from his talk about the Hebrides with to sit there late. Boswell, a young man Boswell at the Mitre in Fleet Street. It about town, having determined to go to was into this club that Boswell was taken Utrecht and study law, wanted Johnson's after fidgeting all evening while talking to advice about a course of study. Having Lady Diana Beauclerk, for fear he should been introduced to the Doctor at Davies be rejected. At the Turk's Head, leaning the bookseller's, Boswell proposed a meet- over a chair as if over a pulpit, Johnson de- ing at this same Mitre, with its curtained livered to Boswell a mock charge as to his partitions and incomplete daylight. After duties as a good fellow and a clubbable a few days Bozzy met the Doctor going man. Here—despot and autocrat at the home to Inner Temple Lane at one in the club meetings on Friday nights—the Doctor morning. Unabashed, as ever, he proposed enunciated all his prejudices, his hatred of the Mitre, but Johnson replied kindly furious Frenchmen, Scotchmen, Whigs, enough, "No, sir, it is too late. They won't Dissenters, or Fielding's novels, and his let us in. But I'll go with you another love of city life, of tavern, of club, and of night with all my heart." About a week good haters. Here he preached and thun- later they met by appointment and went to dered, teased Garrick, and confuted Gib- the Mitre for supper. That night was the bon, lamented Goldsmith's death, and railed pride of Boswell's life, for Johnson took his at Wilkes. The permanent establishment of admirer's hand and said, "Sir, give me your the Club, as Boynton says, "was as great as hand; I have taken a liking to you." Bos- any of Johnson's achievements, for it well speaks of the occasion with an almost marked . . . the complete emancipation of deifying reverence: "The orthodox high- literature from fashion and the coming of a church sound of the Mitre, the figure and day when neither riches nor poverty could manner of the celebrated Samuel Johnson, of themselves distinguish a member of the the extraordinary power and precision of republic of letters." his conversation, and the pride arising from Mitre Tavern in Fleet Street was one of finding myself admitted as his companion, Johnson's greatest haunts. In 1763 he produced a variety of sensations and a seems to have been perpetually there. Bos- pleasing elevation of mind beyond what I well, writing later, said: "When I go up had ever before experienced." It was at that quiet, cloistered court, running up like this same low-browed tavern that Johnson a little secure haven from the stormy ocean made that dreadful remark to Mr. Ogilvey, of Fleet Street, and see the Doctor's gnarled the Scotchman: "The noblest prospect bust on the bracket above his old hat, I which a Scotchman ever sees is the high sometimes think the very waistcoat must road which leads him to London." still be impregnated by the fumes of seeth- It is not far from the Mitre to Wine ing punch bowls." At this time the Doctor Office Court, where Goldsmith lived when used to leave his chambers in Inner Temple he wrote a grammar for Newbery, the Lane, later pulled down, at four in the af- bookseller, and where Dr. Percy also dwelt. December, 1932] THE VIRGINIA TEACHER 205

Here, on the right hand, is the Cheshire the two sweets (daughters of Mrs. T.) Cheese, still standing, where in a certain from Kensington; on Monday with Rey- window they point out Johnson's seat and nolds; today with Mr. Langton; tomorrow also that of Boswell. Few today visit Lon- with the Bishop of St. Asaph. T not only don without going to the Cheshire Cheese scour the town from day to day, but many —some for the ale and famous steak, but visitors come to me in the morning, so that most for its associations with Johnson. my work (Lives of the Poets) makes little Of almost equal importance with the progress." coffee houses were the homes of Johnson's Among those friendships which Francis friends, where he was ever the honored Barber mentioned to Boswell as being par- guest and also the privileged one. We ticularly comforting to Johnson in the days know of his freedom at the home of the of sadness just after his wife's death, he Thrales, where he not only had a complete speaks of Mrs. Ann Gardiner, wife of a apartment where he could "growl to his tallow chandler on Snow Hill, "not in the liking" on his blue days, but also ordered learned way, but a worthy good woman." what he liked for dinner. It was just a She had been introduced to Johnson by pleasant drive to Streatham down through Mary Masters, a poetess, who had herself Southwark and Brixton, especially after become acquainted with him when he was Blackfriars bridge was built in 1769 ("Lon- writing for Cave, for Miss Masters lived don" Bridge was long the only one, then in Cave's home in St. John's Gate. He fre- Westminster was built in 1750), and John- quently dined at Mrs. Gardiner's on Snow son took this drive often. Hill. In his Journal of Easter Day, 1777,- In Salisbury Square he used to visit he wrote, "I dined by appointment with Richardson, whose literary works he great- Mrs. Gardiner, and passed the afternoon ly admired. Here Hogarth heard Johnson with such calm gladness of mind as it is denounce the cruelty with which Jacobites very long since I have felt before." Yet on were treated and, judging from his rolling the morning of that day he had been "much eyes and fi'othing mouth, took him for a distressed." Frederick M. Smith has taken madman. Always Johnson was accorded a these scraps of references to the "tallow warm welcome in the home of "little Gar- chandler's wife," together with two or three rick" on the Adelphi Terrace—looking out brief extracts from Johnson's letters and over what later became the London Em- from the letters of Miss Masters, with bankment. There, even after Garrick's Hoole's account of Johnson's last days, death in 1779, the wheezing old Doctor, to- during which Mrs. Gardiner was constant- gether with such other friends as Hannah ly in attendance to serve and comfort, and More and Fanny Burney, would go to has given us a very charming picture of cheer Mrs. Garrick's loneliness and share Johnson's friendship with this "worthy her luxurious dinners. He dines with the good woman." Of course the picture is printer Strahan, dines at the Mitre, dines at largely imaginary in its details, but while Streatham, coquettes—in his lumbering way reading it we feel that we have come closer —with Mrs. Thrale, and goes home to the to the real heart of Johnson than in all the fogs and grime of Bolt Court. In 1870 he pages of Boswell's Life. Boswell himself writes Mrs. Thrale: was highly pleased to be noticed by the "How do you think I live?—On Thurs- great, and he liked to show that Johnson day I dined with Flamilton and went thence "loved a lord." Frederick Smith in this to Mrs. Ord. On Friday at the Rey- article has emphasized the fact that he also noldses'; on Sunday at Dr. Burney's with at times leaned toward simple things, and 206 THE VIRGINIA TEACHER [Vol. 13, No. 9

3rearned for homely vii'tues. After his well- and of all the city no spot more appropriate cooked and neatly-served dinner at Snow than the quaint, dark little courts and lanes Hill that Easter Day, that day on which he opening into Fleet Street. There the care- had been "much distressed" in the morning, less, slovenly, physically unattractive, yet in he settled down in Mrs. Gardiner's immacu- many ways lovable man spent forty-seven late little parlor, into which a sweet spring years of his life—days of blended sunshine mildness entered through the open window, and shadow, melancholy and mirth—and and peace fell upon him. He dozed and here, when standing in Cough Square, one dreamed and muttered and, after his "forty doubtless feels that his spiidt yet lingers. winks," woke refreshed in mind and spirit and cheerily returned to Bolt Court to give Bibliography Miss Williams an account of his day. Books - Life of Samuel Johnson James Boswell Whatever value he set upon the aristoci acy Johnsonian Miscellanies (including Piozzi's "An- of birth, yet he could take his comfort— ecdotes" and "Letters") George Birkbeck Hill possibly his greatest comfort—among home- London in English Literature. .Percy H. Boynton ly folk, and in such scenes we come nearer London in the Eighteenth Century Sir Walter Besant to a true understanding of the personality English Lands and Letters, Volume Three of the man. Donald G. Mitchell Collection of Hogarth's Engravings Showing In June, 1784, Johnson took his last din- Eighteenth Century Life ner at the old Club with Reynolds and Magazine Articles Burke and Langton and Boswell and oth- "Haunted'London"—By Dickens(?) in All the ers less known. After this it is mostly Bolt Year Round, May, 1859 Court. Miss Williams is gone; so is Lev- "Dr. Johnson and Fanny Burney"—By W. E. Simonds in The Dial, April, 1912 ett, his other old pensioner. Of the wel- "Two of Our Invisible Hosts"—By Sidney K. coming home-faces none remains but Frank Phelps in The Nineteenth Century, July, 1925 Barber. Langton comes to see him, and "The Tallow Chandler's Wife"—By Frederick W. Smith in The Sewanee Review, October, 1925 Reynolds, though the sick man finds the "The Johnson Club"—By George Birkbeck Hill ear-timmpet rather difficult to use now. in the Atlantic Monthly, January, 1896 Burke comes and shows a woman's tender- "A London Guide Book of 1808"—By W. How- ard Hazell in The Nineteenth Century, ness; Boswell, before he goes north, March, 1925 bounces in and out, his assurance somewhat "Intimate Museums"—By Marion Berry in The lessened by the genuine sorrows that hang Living Age, July, 1929 over him; little Miss Burney rushes into Vergilia P. Sadler the ante-room and stays there for hours; while Mrs. Gardiner, the tallow-chandler's Whatever retrenchments are made in widow, was there until the end, being the public education should be made by the last to prepax-e food for him and seeing friends of children, and not by those who that nothing was neglected for his comfort. would sacrifice the welfare of the schools to Thus, amid a circle of his fxdends from serve selfish ends or to promote their own different walks of life, came the passing of political fortunes or those of their party, or Johnson's spirit. who in this period of distress seek to gain Yet we can not think of that spirit as temporary and cheap popularity with the being far from London—his London—the over-burdened taxpayers by loudly de- London of which he said, "The happiness nouncing the public school as costly and of London is not to be conceived but by extravagant—to be led first to the sacrifice those who have been in it." London would as the chief offender among our public in- seem a sx-.itable place for ghosts to walk, stitutions.—Edwin C. Broome