Eagle Court EC1
Situated within a stone’s throw of the Grand Priory Church of Order of St John, this forlorn Court lies in a near state of dejection, abandoned by the Order which many years ago raised it to the status of recognition. This site was once occupied by the house of one of the top-ranking officials of the Order of St John – the Bailiff of Egle.
In the year 1312, the Pope issued a decree that the Order of the Knights Templars were to be abolished and that all their assets, buildings and furnishings, were to be given over to their opponents, the Knights Hospitallers, or the Order of St John of Jerusalem. It turns out that only a very small portion of the Templars’ great wealth reached the clutches of the Hospitallers; the lion’s share being retained by Edward II and Philip le Bel, King of France and ali of Pope Clement. Protests by the Hospitallers were at first overruled, merely inspiring loud proclamations from Edward that they were forbidden from meddling with the fabric of the Templars. Part of the land, namely that lying to the west of the Temple, was granted by the King to the Bishop of Exeter and from him it passed through the hands of Lord Paget and the Duke of Norfolk, who sold it to the Earl of Leicester. In later years the inheritance became the property of Leicester’s stepson, Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex, who built his house on the site – now Devereux Court.
Meanwhile, the portion of the Templars land which lay inside the City boundary had passed through successive hands and upon the accession of Edward III was granted to William de Langford, Clerk to the King, at an annual rental of ,24. In 1337 the Hospitallers protested concerning the allocation of consecrated ground into the hands of a layman which resulted in a debate leading to a division between the consecrated and the unconsecrated parts of the Temple, paving the way for the two societies of Inner and Middle Temple. About the year 1340 the Hospitallers accepted an offer from the King of the entire consecrated ground of the Temple in exchange for a donation of ,100 to the Crown. In addition, upon the expiry of Langford’s lease, in 1343, the whole of the Temple grounds would be transferred to the Hospitallers.
About this time the Order of the Knights of St John created and installed the first bailiff to look after their rightful inheritance. Eagle Court, where his house once stood is now very plain and totally devoid of outstanding character. Over the St John’s Lane entrance is a recently constructed building of red brick, and filling almost the entire north side of the Court is the London Institute.
East Passage EC1
UG: Barbican
Bus: 4 56
At Barbican Station cross to the south side of Long Lane and turn into Cloth Street opposite the station. East Passage is almost immediately on the right.
A Passage leading out of Cloth Street on the east side of the ancient priory of St Bartholomew founded in 1123 by Rahere, a court jester to Henry I. It is a fairly narrow way, covered throughout its length with brick buildings lining both sides.
In this Passage is Ye Old Red Cow, one of the earliest ancient taverns of Smithfield. It is a place of compact proportions and space within its walls is, to say the least, severely restricted and consequently the luxury of seating around its central servery is very sparse. A painting in the Guildhall depicts the tavern as it appeared in 1854.
In neighbouring Middle Street is another old tavern, the Hand and Shears, popularly known to the locals as the Fist and Clippers. It dates back over 400 years and takes its name from the cloth merchants and tailors of Bartholomew Fair who first began setting up their stalls around here in the mid-12th century. (See Cloth Court). During the 16th century, on the 24th August – St Bartholomew’s day – it was customary for the Lord Mayor to emerge from the Hand and Shears, after sufficiently lubricating his vocal chords, and proclaim the opening of the fair in a very loud voice. However, this procedure was only the ceremonial show put on for the benefit of the gathered crowds of the morning; the actual opening was performed by a group of tailors who spent the evening supping ale. As the clock struck midnight they issued forth into the street waiving shears above their heads proclaiming ‘the proceeding shall begin’. In an upstairs room of the Hand and Shears was held the Court of Pieds Poudres – Dusty Feet, set up to try the cases against traders accused of selling short measure and other unethical practices.
Through the words of his play, Bartholomew Fair, Ben Jonson has passed on a detailed account of the happenings at the Smithfield fair; the trading, amusements, feasting on roast pig, drinking, brawling, and thieving. In somewhat fewer words than Mr Jonson, George Alexander Stevens sends this abstract:
‘Here was, first of all, crowds against other crowds driving,
Like winds and tide meeting, each contrary striving;
Shrill fiddling, sharp fighting, and shouting and shrieking
Fifes, trumpets, drums, bagpipes, and barrow-girls squeaking,
“Come my rare round and sound, here’s choice of fine ware,”
Though all was not sound sold at Bartholomew Fair.
There was drolls, hornpipe-dancing, and showing of postures,
With frying black-puddings, and opening of oysters;
With salt-boxes, solo’s, and gallery folks squalling;
The tap-house guests roaring, and mouth-pieces bawling;
Pimps, pawnbrokers, strollers, fat landladies, sailors,
Bawds, baillies, jilts, jockeys, thieves, tumblers, and taylors;
Here’s Punch’s whole play of the Gunpowder Plot,
Wild beast all alive, and pease-pudding all hot,
Fine sausages fried, and the black on the wire;
The whole court of France, and nice pig at the fire;
Here’s the up-and-downs, who’ll take a seat in the chair?
Tho’ there’s more up-and-downs than at Bartelmew Fair.
Here’s Whittington’s cat, and the tall dromedary,
The chaise without horses, and Queen of Hungary;
Here’s the merry-go-rounds, “Come, who rides; come, who rides, Sir?”
Wine, beer, ale, and cakes, fire-eating besides, sir,
The fam’d learned dog, that can tell all his letters;
And some men, as scholars, are not much his betters.’
Bartholomew Fair officially ceased in 1855 but the Meat Market, built on the site of a cattle market established at Bartholomew Fair when general traders were authorised to sell their wares, is still operating. Built in 1867, it occupies a site covering over ten acres, constituting the largest meat market in the world.
Ely Court EC1
UG: Chancery Lane
Bus: 8 25 45 46 171A 243 501 521
Follow the directions for Ely Place but at Hatton Garden turn left. Within a few yards look for the lantern post of the Old Mitre Tavern (by number 8 Hatton garden) and turn right into the Court
To the multitudes this quaint and narrow passageway, linking Hatton Garden with Ely Place has one main attraction – the enchanting Old Mitre Tavern. The first tavern on this site was built in 1546 by Bishop Goodrich, Bishop of Ely, for the enjoyment of his Palace servants (see Ely Place). The present building is of the 18th century.
Apart from the Bishops of Ely, there was another character featured prominently in the history of this area – he was Sir Christopher Hatton, Lord Chancellor to Elizabeth I. At the time of the Queen’s first acquaintance with Christopher Hatton, he held the position of Master of the Game at the Inner Temple. They met at a theatrical performance staged at Whitehall in which Hatton played a leading part, attracting the Queen’s attention by his graceful dancing. From that time he became a great favourite of her majesty and in 1577 was appointed Vice-Chamberlain, and in 1587 Lord Keeper of the Great Seal – called by Elizabeth, her ‘dancing Chancellor’. They engaged in frequent meetings, and in the House of Commons he was the Queen’s spokesman, expressing her approvals and dissension’s.
When it occurred to Sir Christopher Hatton that he should reside in a mansion fitting of his position, he set his sights on the magnificent Ely House, London home of the Bishop of Ely. At the Queen’s insistence Bishop Cox was persuaded to lease his gatehouse and fourteen acres of land to Hatton. To please her the Bishop, without question, agreed to a lease of twenty-one years at a yearly rent of £10 plus ten loads of hay and one red rose.
Once establish in his ill-gotten gain, Hatton spent a great deal of money on additions and renovations to the property and land – money borrowed from his royal mistress. Both parties had use of the gardens but after a disagreement concerning the actual boundary of the part included in the lease, a cherry tree was planted to mark the division. It is said that Queen Elizabeth once danced the maypole around the tree during one of her many visits to Hatton. If you look in the corner of the bar parlour of the Mitre Tavern you will see, what is reputed to be, a preserved chunk of that very tree.
As time passed, the Queen put so much pressure on Hatton to repay the money that he suffered sleepless nights and became ill. She later visited him and quite evidently her dominance caused a worsening of his condition. He died still owing £40,000, a debt that the Queen never forgot. Bishop Cox was obliged to inherit the liability but when he died his successor, Bishop Heton, refused to honour the agreement. He was ordered to comply or he would be dismissed from his position and defrocked. The characteristic letter from Elizabeth laid firmly before him the terms of her demand: ‘Proud Prelate! I understand you are backward in complying with your agreement: but I would have you know that I, who made you what you are, can unmake you; and if you do not forthwith fulfil your engagement, by God I will immediately unfrock you.’ – He presumable paid up.
The Mitre is a charming old pub with an atmosphere reminiscent of a country inn. The walls, covered in oak panelling, are adorned with pictures associated with Ely Court and Place. There are two small rooms and a smaller ante-room known as The Closet and, be warned, it gets very busy, particularly at lunchtime and early evening.
One point to ponder on when visiting the Mitre is – How on earth did the large table get there, since it is too large to pass through the door? Some say the pub was built around it. But there remains the riddle.
More photographs of the Mitre Tavern
by courtesy of Don
Ely Place EC1
UG: Chancery Lane
Bus: 8 25 45 46 171A 243 501 521
From Chancery Lane Station walk east along north side of Holborn towards Holborn Circus. Cross over Hatton Garden and start to walk along Charterhouse Street. Ely Place is through the gates on the left.
Entering Ely Place through the imposing iron gateway with its beadle’s lodge, at once tell’s you that this is a private road. It is a cul-de-sac that is still administered by appointed commissioners of the Crown. The houses are of the Georgian period (18th century) and feature Robert Adam style doorways. Until as recently as 1948 the beadle would nightly call the hour between 10pm and 5am with the one time familiar ‘past ten o’clock, all’s well’. Another ancient curiosity of Ely Place was that criminals could claim sanctuary from the police, but that is all history and those who commit crimes today are just as likely to be arrested in Ely Place as anywhere else.
Strange as it may seem, this small plot of land, until quite recently, was not part of London at all, but Cambridgeshire. The history begins in 1251 when a church was built on the site of the present church of St Etheldreda, on the west side of Ely Place. Some years later the property was purchased by John Kirkby just prior to him being consecrated Bishop of Ely in 1286. When he died in 1290 he left the building and surrounding grounds to the diocese of Ely (in Cambridgeshire). In those days it was the duty of bishops to sit regularly in Parliament and this meant that it was necessary to have accommodation nearby. The magnitude of their London houses usually depended on the personal wealth of the bishop and we must assume that the Bishops of Ely were fairly well endowed. William de Luda succeeded John Kirkby and it was he who built the present church. Later, in 1336, a vineyard and orchard covering seven acres were added. Towards the end of the 14th century Bishop Arundell rebuilt part of the palace adding a gatehouse and a high wall to enclose the grounds. ‘In this house, for the large and commodious rooms thereof, divers great and solemn feasts have been kept, especially by the serjeants-at-the-law’. All that now remains of the Bishops’ Palace is the medieval chapel of St Etheldreda.
The church of St Etheldreda displays some of the finest examples of Gothic architecture in the whole of Western Europe. With the exception of Westminster Abbey, it is London’s only surviving building from the period of Edward I. The west window, when compared with the size of the building, is enormous; it was completed in 1964 and commemorates the English martyrs of the Tudor period. Scenes from the Old Testament are depicted in the windows on the south side and scenes from the New testament in those on the north side. Also notable are the carved gorbels between these windows. A number of large statues are of local men and women who were martyred for their faith. The original doorway that separated the Chapel from the Bishops’ Palace is on the south west side.
St Etheldreda’s suffered a great deal of damage and decay over the years but thankfully escaped the ravages of the Great Fire with minutes to spare. St Andrew’s, only yards away, was completely destroyed but a change of wind spelt reprieve for the Bishops’ old chapel.
During the Civil War of 1642, the buildings of Ely Place were used as a prison. It was finally sold to the Crown in 1772 when the London residence of the Bishops of Ely was transferred to the newly built Ely House at 37 Dover Street; this remained their official London residence until 1909.
Between numbers 9 and 10, the narrow Ely Court leads to Ye Old Mitre Tavern. Notice the iron bar down the centre of the opening – it was placed there to prevent horse riders from entering the narrow passage.
Evelyn Yard W1
UG: Tottenham Court Road
Bus: 1 7 8 10 14 19 22 24 25 29 38 55 73 98
From Tottenham Court Road Station walk west along the north side of Oxford Street. In about 150 yds cross over Hanway Street then turn right into Rathbone Place. Evelyn Yard is about 45 yds on the right.
Leaving Rathbone Place through a wide covered opening, a short passage opens into a spacious true-to-form yard. It was laid out by the descendants of the 17th century diarist John Evelyn.
John Evelyn was an architect who specialised in garden design; like Pepys he busied himself with the activities of daily life and kept an accurate record of things of consequence. Much of our present day knowledge of the Great Fire comes from the writings of John Evelyn. He had great aspirations for rebuilding the City after the 1666 destruction and along with Christopher Wren, William Petty and Nicholas Barbon, presented his plans to the King. His unique idea was centred around gardens filled with sweet smelling blooms with interspersed vegetable patches. Evelyn’s scheme involved the moving of all industrial workings down river and laying the central areas out with planted flower and herb beds. Cattle and sheep grazing, he suggested, should have a place in the new City and his plans provided for substantial meadow land. As it turned out none of the submitted plans were accepted. The committee set up by the King made a decision to rebuild the City using the original layout as the basis for design.
The long dry summer that had contributed to the spread of the fire was followed by one of the wettest winters on record. This meant that work could not commence until conditions improved. On the 29th March 1667 Pepys recorded in his diary that stakes were being driven into the ground to mark out the streets. From this date it was all systems go and by the end of 1671 the Guildhall, many of the churches and some houses were fully functional once again.
On the corner of Evelyn Yard is the Black Horse public house which has its main entrance in the passage. Once into the passage, the Yard opens out into a very large area surrounded by offices. Iron gates at the entrance to the Yard are usually left open.
Excel Court SW1
UG: Piccadilly Circus
Bus: 3 6 12 13 15 23 53 88 94 139 159
Exit Piccadilly Circus Station in the Haymarket and cross to the east side. Walk south, crossing Panton Street and then turn left into Orange Street. At the junction with Whitcomb Street turn right and Excel Court is almost immediately on the right.
Excel Court is one of the few West End byways still retaining its old world charm. Through the covered passage beneath a four-storey building a most tranquil atmosphere prevails over the Court with its single well tended gaslight, still in use today. There used to be a second lamp but years of decaying rust rendered it unserviceable and council workmen removed it. A few years ago the Court began to look rather shabby and uncared for, but now it has been spruced up and the little garden at the far end is a complement to the pleasing scene. The Court sleeps at night when the beautiful iron gates decorated with woven leaves are closed, but between 9.00 and 18.00 hours the public are free to explore the delights within.
Excel Court was only so named in 1936 when Excel House was built, but the Court has been here for much longer that, almost, I suppose, as long as Whitcomb Street itself. This street was once called Hedge Lane and in the 16th century you could have walked along it from Pall Mall to Hampstead as though in the dales of Derbyshire. How charming! In the lower part of the street the narrowness of the old lane is still in evidence; where the pavements now lie, the hedges once grew. However, the quietness of Hedge Lane no longer prevails in Whitcomb Street; now it is like a circuit for fleeing taxies.
Exchange Court WC2
UG: Charing Cross
Bus: 6 9 11 13 15 23 77A 91 176
Off the north side of the Strand, about 250 yds from Charing Cross ML Station and just to the east of Bedford Street.
The exquisite originality of this narrow passage must not be missed. Covered at its southern end the Court is quaintly authentic – a real reminder of old London. Four working gaslights illuminate the way, three suspended on brackets and one on a standard. A number of little old doors lead out onto the Court from where, at any moment, you might expect Daniel Quilp or Mr Micawber to emerge. Demarco’s Wine Bar is here and where the Court emerges into Maiden Lane, by way of contrast, is the Fat Boy Diner, an American style eating bar.
To the east of Exchange Court is the Adelphi Theatre, originally built in 1806 and twice modified – firstly in 1858 when it was largely rebuilt, and again in 1930. Since that time it has held an honoured position as one of London’s leading houses of comedy entertainment.
In 1897 an enactment of true suspense stole the show outside the bounds of the theatre. It took place late one night after the evening performance. As actor William Terris cleared the grease-paint from his brow and left via the stage door he was pursued along the dark path of Exchange Court, set upon and savagely killed by an envious colleague. His assassin was eventually caught and made it to the top of the bill, treading the boards of the scaffold.
Exchange Court takes its name from a market that used to occupy a spot on the south side of the Strand. During the 17th century the Strand was notable for its markets and was one of the busiest shopping streets in London. The first of these markets was on the site of the present Shell Mex House, land that had previously been owned by the Earl of Salisbury. Successive Earls found it to be a drain on their financial resources and eventually the land was sold off for development. The market that evolved on that site was called Middle Exchange. Because of hassle to customers caused by ladies of ill repute the market was a failure from the start; punters were thin on the ground, traders got fed up, left, and the market closed.
On the north side of the Strand was the Exeter Market, a two-floor complex where the traders mainly specialised in clothing, ‘with shops on each side for sempsters, milliners, hosiers, etc.’. Its shops and stalls were popular with the well to do and therefore the traders enjoyed a better standard of living than their counterparts across the way. Good fortune, however, was short lived and ‘instead of growing in better esteem, it became worse and worse; in as much as the shops in the first walk next the street can hardly meet with tenants, those backward lying useless, and those above converted to other uses.’
Further down the Strand, on the site of Charing Cross station was the Hungerford Market, so named from it being built on land owned by Sir Edward Hungerford. With its close proximity to the River, giving easy access for traders and customers alike, the market soon established a thriving trade. In fact, so brisk was business that when the hall was demolished in 1851 a new and larger two-storey building incorporating a bazaar gallery, exhibition hall, and café was opened on the site. Ultimately, the market was demolished in 1862 to make way for Charing Cross station and the management and stall holders were collectively compensated to the tune of £7,750. When Dr Johnson jumped to his feet, disagreeing with his chum Boswell – as he always did – and said ‘I think the full tide of human existence is at Charing Cross’, he was not referring to the main-line station, but the activity around Hungerford Market.
Finally, on the site of Durham House, approximately opposite to Exchange Court, and providing the source of its name, was the New Exchange, opened in 1609 by James I and named Britain’s Burse. It was established as a replacement for Middle Exchange in the hope that a change of site would bring about a change of reputation. Popularity was slow to take off but eventually hopes were fulfilled and the market became a flourishing success. Two floors filled the emporium ‘furnished with shops on both sides the ones, both below and above stairs, for milliners, sempstresses and other trades, that furnish dresses; and it is a place of great resort and trade for the nobility and gentry’.
Like its predecessor, in later years the ‘Burse’ became plagued with dubious traders who latched onto the success of the market; the quality of custom declined, prostitutes roamed the floors, and the hall was closed down in 1737.
The alleyways and courtyards of London
This page is taken from Ivor Hoole’s defunct GeoCities site listing the alleys and courtyards in Central London, last updated in 2004 and now taken offline.
The Underground Map blog lists this information as is, with no claim of copyright.