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Literary London - walks and houses

Thursday, July 9th, 2009

Our repertoire of great London walks feature several that explore London’s literary heritage.

London boasts an extremely long and rich literary tradition.

Geoffrey Chaucer lived above Aldgate, in the easternmost part of The City until 1386, and playwright Joe Orton lived on Noel Road in Islington until his 1967 murder.

Marguerite Radclyffe Hall, author of the first lesbian novel, The Well of Loneliness, lived in Chelsea and is buried in Highgate Cemetery, both of which our featured on our London walks in those areas.

Oscar Wilde, Dylan Thomas, Virginia Woolf, Fanny Burney, George Orwell, D. H. Lawrence, George Bernard Shaw, Rudyard Kipling, George Eliot, Dorothy L. Sayers, William Blake—the list of authors who made London their home goes on and on.

Alas, a little blue plaque is usually all that’s left to mark the past, but there are some exceptions.

The wonderful Georgian town house where lexicographer Samuel Johnson lived and worked, compiling the world’s first English dictionary, is now a shrine called Dr. Johnson’s House, 17 Gough Sq., Fleet Street, EC4.

His original dictionary, on display, includes the definition “Dull: to make dictionaries is dull work.” There’s not much here in the way of furnishings, but the long upstairs room in which he worked has plenty of ambience.

Thomas Carlyle’s House, 24 Cheyne Row, SW3, is an 18th-century Queen Anne on a beautiful Chelsea back street.

The Scottish author/historian/philosopher lived here 47 years, until his death in 1881. His house remains virtually unaltered, to the extent that some of the rooms are without electric light. In this eerie atmosphere you can imagine yourself sitting in one of the writer’s original Victorian chairs or playing the same piano Chopin himself played.

Dickens’s House, 48 Doughty St., WC1, was home to one of London’s most famous novelists for a short but prolific period.

It was here where he worked on  Pickwick Papers, Nicholas Nickleby, and Oliver Twist. His letters, desk and chair, and first editions are on display, along with some memorabilia of his wife, Catherine.

If you are interested in DIY London walks you might like to purchase a copy of Richard Jones’s guide to Dickens London Walking Dickensian London that offers a choice of 25 walks around the London that Dickens knew and wrote about.

London walks - A Strange Case

Tuesday, May 5th, 2009

As we wend our way around the streets of Smithfield on our Secret London and Hidden London walks, we pass by the Central Criminal Court, or as the building is better known, The Old Bailey.

It stands on the site of Newgate Prison which was demolished in 1902, albeit there was a courthouse next to the prison which was also known as The Old Bailey.

In the course of our Famous Trials of London walk, we tell of a curious case that was heard at the Old Bailey in November1769, when the author Joseph Baretti, an Italian by birth, was indicted for the wilful murder of a man named Evan Morgan.

ConsiderableGiuseppe Baretti interest was created in this affair by reason of the fact that among the witnesses for the defence were such famous London luminaries as Oliver Goldsmith, Dr. Samuel Johnson, Sir Joshua Reynolds, Edmund Burke, plus several other well-known men.

Baretti, who was born in Turin in 1716, was the son of an architect. He was left a small fortune on the death of his father, which he gambled away at faro. Thus he was reduced to living by his wits.

In 1750 he came to England, and soon learned the language, attaining a fluency which would have enabled him to pass for an Englishman.He earned a subsistence by teaching Italian, and in 1753 he published a book defending the poetry of his native country, in reply to the criticisms of Voltaire. About the same.time he became acquainted with Dr Johnson, with whom he was friendly for the rest of his  life.

Johnson introduced him to many famous families, and he was often the Doctor’s companion on his London walks and rounds of friends.

In his early days in London the Italian was often short of money, but he refused to accept charity. In the end he attained a reputation for his writings and was able to keep himself by his pen and with his teaching.

He decided to return to Italy and settle down. But, after five years, he found himself the object of so much jealousy and so many vicious attacks that he came back to England.

He renewed his friendship with Johnson, and accompanied the Doctor and the Thrale family to France in 1769.

It was soon after this that the “murder” occurred which brought him before the Old Bailey justices.

The following story of what occurred is taken from Baretti’s evidence in defence.

On Friday, October 6th, he spent the day revising his “English and Italian Dictionary.” In the evening he went to the Royal Academicians’ Club in Soho, but finding no one there, he went to the Orange coffee-house, where he had his letters addressed.

Leaving the coffee-house, he began to walk up the Haymarket. As he was about to pass a doorway near the corner of Panton Street (which we cover on our west end London walks) a woman struck him, inflicting “great pain.”

He retaliated by giving her a blow on the hand, at the same time using some angry words in Italian. The woman promptly flew into a fury, called him a “damned Frenchman,” and raised the neighbourhood with her cries.

Baretti had almost turned the corner when a man came up, gave him a blow with his fist, and demanded why he had struck the woman. Other men appeared and Baretti was subjected to a vicious assault.

He was surrounded by a crowd and severely pummelled for being a “Frenchman.”
At the corner of Panton Street there was a large puddle of water to which his assailants attemptedt to drag him. Whereupon Baretti shrieked “Murder !” at the top of his voice.

He tried to break through the crowd, but was flung from one side of the circle to the other.
At last he saw an opening, and dashed through. “I could not run so fast as my pursuers, so that they were upon me, continually beating and pushing me, some of them attempting to catch me by the ahir-tail,” continued Baretti in his statement.

“If this had happened I had been certainly a lost man. I cannot, absolutely fix the time and place where I first struck. I remember, somewhere in Panton Street, I gave-a quick blow to one who beat off my hat With his fist.”

The blow referred to wag-done” with a knife.

The,crowd pursued Baretti into Oxenden Street, and there he stopped and turned on his assailants. Then, seeing a shop open, he dashed in.

Three men followed him, and one of then him to surrender. This man was a constable who,at Baretti’s request, took him to the magistrate, Sir John Fielding.

The injured man, Evan Morgan, was taken to Middlesex Hospital, whence a messenger was dispatched to ascertain his condition. On the evidence of a surgeon that the “man’s
life was in danger, Baretti was committed to Tothill Fields Prison.

He was finally acquitted, but his ordeal hastened his death, which occurred on May 5th, 1789. So died the man who once famously quipped:-

I hate mankind, for I think myself one of the best of them, and I know how bad I am.