Streets of London : Violets for a farthing

Today we wandered grounds that were once part of a medieval Abbey and garden where a fertile 40 acres were put to fruit and vegetables for those in the convent, but where the surplus was sold off to passersby on the Strand. Covent Garden, it came to be known. On ground that had been an old trading place, called Lundenwic.

We visited a church, St Giles in the Fields, set up on the main travelling route to the city. In the Middle Ages, a gallows had been built out in front for public execution of condemned criminals. Many had their last drink in The Bowl Inn, which today holds the gloomy confines of the Angel public house. The gallows, later, were moved to the Marble Arch area, and there were called, Tyburn Tree, mentioned in many a novel I have read.

After the dissolution of the monasteries, the land was passed from the king to a long line of the Dukes of Bedford, one of whom sought to turn the now fallow fields into townhouses for the toffs, so he employed Inigo Jones, who had visited Italy, loved the piazza setting in Livorno, and favoured that for his design. This, then, became London's first piazza, and the townhouses surrounding it were soon snaffled up by the wealthy: many of whom liked the sound of the word so much that, for a time, it became fashionable as a name for new babies in London. Piazza.

The elegant neighbourhood became dominated by the activities of the market which, over time, became the largest in all of London. Stalls spread out under the beautiful arches. Fruit and flower sellers rolled their barrows over the cobbles daily, shouting their wares. Punch and Judy festivals are still held every year and have been around since Pepys first saw one here in the 1600s.

Crowds followed the market. Degeneracy followed the crowds. Gin shops multiplied on every corner selling cheap, unregulated gin. Used in lieu of the bad London water. Often thought to be the cause of much of the ensuing crime.

Bands of thieves came out in force, artfully dodging the footpads who had had been hired by the wealthy locals to see the back of them. They were London's first unofficial policemen, the Bow Street Runners, operating for many years before a formal police force was founded. A Magistrate's Court was the set up, in Bow Street, where the Royal Opera house now stands, and many offenders were tried and convicted. The Court is now on the opposite street.

As crime increased the wealthy started heading west. The area degenerated, and the parish became a rookery, and every day for hundreds of years unfolded like a scene out of Pygmalion or Oliver Twist. Ripe for Dickens and George Bernard Shaw. The front steps on St Paul's church, in fact, was where George Bernard Shaw sited Eliza Dolittle selling her violets, and where Henry Higgins figuratively discovered her.

The beautiful elegant homes around the piazza became gambling dens and brothels, which were so in demand, that an entrepreneurial waiter named John Harris thought to write a guide to the red-light district, calling it: Harris's List of Covent Garden Ladies (or a Man of Pleasure's Kalendar) describing the ladies of the streets in great detail, highlighting their sexual proclivities. Over the next 40 years it was updated regularly, and sold a quarter of a million copies.

Dicken's tales of the area were similarly in demand. He had his London quarters just at the back of the piazza, so he was close at hand when he needed detailed descriptions for his characters Fagin, Bill Sykes and Bullseye. His work was published in episodes and whenever a new episode was due crowds would gather in long queues outside, waiting for the printing presses to run the next instalment. Dickens could watch them from his window overlooking the street. One of his favourite restaurants nearby still survives today: Rules. Which was first an oyster bar in the 1700s, and now is considered to be the oldest restaurant in London. Dickens had a regular table booked on the first floor, at the back. Not bad for a shoe black boy.

The environs stayed wild, even anarchic. Shots were fired while Charles 111 was in the Royal Box one night at the Theatre Royal Drury Lane. Luckily he was not hit, and even more fortunate for the patrons, he commanded that the performance continue once the incident was resolved.

It was tragic, but inevitable, then, that large numbers of outcasts, bereft and poor, died here in their tenements and garrets during the Great Plague of London. Today the area still has an alternative edge to it. The old market is no more: it has been converted into pubs, cafes and tourist stalls. Old yards in surrounding streets are becoming more colourful and interesting. Touches of the picturesque still live on. There is even a plaque to commemorate the old working market donkeys. But it is valuable real estate and new architects have moved in, trying to revamp the image of the area. A mesmerising floating walkway between the Royal Opera House and the Royal Ballet School, called the Bridge of Aspirations has been built. And amazing piece. There to inspire.

While another assortment of buildings, the work of acclaimed architect, Renzo Piano, who also designed the extraordinary Shard, looks like something from an artist's colour palette. He helped design the amazing The Pompidou Centre in Paris, and there are touches of that here, too, at Central St Giles. Colourful, different, and controversial. Much like Covent Garden has always been.