Streets of London : Snapshots of a well worn route

We are in one of the oldest parts of London today and started our walk where the statue of Charles 1 stands on a tiny concrete island looking down to the Banqueting House of Westminster, where he was executed after he was overthrown by Cromwell. The crowd let out a deep groan as the axe came down on Charles 1's head and it rolled on the ground. It was stitched back on the next day before being placed into a lead coffin and buried. His statue was quickly sold by Cromwell to a local brazier, John Rivett, who was supposed to melt it down and refashion it into trinkets for sale. Rivett, though, played the smart game: he kept the statue hidden until Charles 1's son, Charles 11 came to power when the monarchy was restored, and sold him back his father's statue: no doubt making a much larger profit. Futures gambling.

One of the tiniest police posts in all of England still stands guarding Charles 1 and the other assorted noteworthies around Trafalgar Square. His statue rests now on a pedestal where the old Charring Cross used to stand. Things around here have been regularly moved over the centuries, and the current Charring Cross is a little further down The Strand, tucked behind the Charring Cross station fence. A lovely piece of stonework, the original was built to mark the funeral route of Edward 1's beloved wife, Eleanor, in the 13th century.

So, our walk today has old roots and follows tracks back into prehistory most likely, but we are just taking snapshots in time of that well-trodden path between Westminster, traditionally the seat of the court and politics, and the City of London, the centre for commerce and a different form of power. The Strand, or in old English, the strond: the edge of the river.

The route was once lined with massive mansions, for here the wealthy lived: the bishops of prestige, the courtiers of power, the relatives of the powerful, and the friends in favour. Their mansions sprawled along the Strand, facing it. Today, only remnants remain. Somerset House is one such. Even today it occupies the space of a modern city block. There were many great houses just like it: Essex, Arundel, Savoy, Durham and Cecil, to name a few. Their back gardens rolled right down to the Thames and were regularly flooded by the tide.

York House, which had a long history of being tossed between bishops and kings and dukes had a Water Gate right on the bank of the Thames which allowed its various owners a docking place at the bottom of their garden which kept their feet dry as they headed off for the day in one direction: to listen to the arguments of other lords, or in another: to visit their bank to ensure they had deep pockets before their gambling stoush in the evening. The water gate survives, though like other things around here, it has been moved closer to the Strand somewhat: out of water's way.

York House has now long gone. It was sold by one of the Dukes of Buckingham, George Villiers, for £30,000. To developers. In 1670. On condition that the streets they carved from the rubble of his family's sprawling town house, be named after the family. And many of them were. Villiers street remains as one. And, one of our favourite wine bars still stands here today, Gordon's: with its darkened candlelit bars built into back-bending arched tunnels that likely once emptied sewer into the Thames. It is decorated like something straight out of Oliver Twist. And, not surprisingly, it became the haunt of writers. Rudyard Kipling lived in the street, and this was one of his drinking haunts. Pepys had a place just a few steps away.

We found another little bar tucked away in the back streets which is actually split into two halves by its lane: the Ship and Shovell. Beneath the street it is still all one as the cellars remain joined. But above, it is like two separate establishments. Only in London.

Sewage was a problem around here. In the back of the Strand, in nearby Carting Lane, stands a relic of an old ventilating lamp which had been designed to control the methane exuding from the sewer tunnels beneath the lanes. The methane burned the lanterns that carried the smell away, and it was all above the heads of pedestrians, so most were none the wiser. But, it was not consistent. It would sputter and stop as the methane roiled in the tunnels, and it took no time for the lane to become known as Farting Lane. The designers solved the problem by hooking it all up to gas, which sucks the methane up, burns if off, and blows any residue into the atmosphere: neutralised.

It was all improved when the Thames embankment was built, digging up the old flooded mansion gardens, mixing in tonnes of rubble and rock and infill and reclaiming a bit of the Thames: building the shore higher, shoring it staunchly against the tide. Today, there are many restaurants and bars overlooking the Thames where lords and bishops once boarded their private barges.

On the Strand, parallel to the river, are some big buildings still: the South African High Commission, its exterior decorated in springboks and wildebeest. For years, this was where protestors demonstrated against Mandella's prison confinement. Coutts Bank, where to have an account you need as a starter investments of over £1,000,00, so it is really for royals and Russian oligarchs. Every royal since George 111 has had an account there; and there must be more than a few of these as the bank takes up its own city block, not far across the street from the Savoy. So, it is business as usual along The Strand.