It seems strange in these later days to read
with how much magnificence a Spanish
ambassador dwelt in a fine mansion in Petticoat
Lane; but Petticoat Lane had sweeter environs
at that time than it has now.

When, shortly after the battle of Poitiers
great festivities took place within the City;
amongst other brave doings, was the entertainment
given by one Picard a wealthy citizen,
to four monarchs, the kings of England,
Cyprus, France, and Scotland; the two latter
being prisoners. The dinner hour of the
nobility was then nine in the morning; supper
being served at five, and the bedtime not later
than nine or ten. The captive monarchs had
not a great distance to journey to that City
feast; only from the Savoy Palace, formerly the
residence of John of Gaunt, "time-honoured
Lancaster," to Cheapside; whilst the British
sovereign sojourning within the Tower, had a
still shorter ride. The royal wardrobe was
then kept in a house from which the present
Wardrobe Street derived its name, and the
Exchequer was situated at the west end of
the Poultry.

The inhabitants of London did not amount
to a hundred thousand at the time of the
Reformation, and there was neither any necessity
nor desire to pass beyond the City limits,
until the reign of Elizabeth. Of the domestic
architecture previous to that time there is
scarcely any specimen existing now in London.
Bricks were introduced in the middle of the
fifteenth century; but it was not until after
the great fire that the use of them became
general. The nobility and gentry were
content to dwell in houses of the rudest form,
and the commonest materials, and trod
earthen floors scattered over with green
rushes. Queen Elizabeth herself dwelt in
a house of timber, lath, and plaster. Yet
monarchs and citizens enjoyed themselves
after their own way. We read of rare
festivities, for example, at the castle or palace of
the Earl of Warwick the king-maker, now
covered by Warwick Lane, that adjoins
Newgate Market. Baynard's Castle too, was the
scene of not a little gaiety; and, if all be
true that we find told in musty chronicles,
its regal and ducal tenants were not always
in bed by nine. This once royal residence
stood where one now finds the City Flour
Mills at the base of Dowgate Hill. Tradition
speaks of subterranean passages between
the castle and a spacious and noble dwelling
adjoining Doctors' Commons, in which for
some time dwelt the Fair Rosamond, whom
King Henry visited through those passages.

The first great causes of the westward
growth of the metropolis, which began in
Elizabeth's time, were the increasing population,
and the growing value of ground within
the City walls. Noblemen not only found
themselves being built in by warehouses and shops,
but perceived that the spacious grounds by
which their mansions were surrounded, would
fetch high prices if sold in building lots. Fine
sites for new dwellings were to be had
westward of Temple Bar. The city palaces,
therefore, being made over to wealthy
citizens, the aristocracy began to move in the
direction of the Strand, Lincoln's Inn Fields,
then Whetstone Park, Westminster, and St.
Martin's. Sir Francis Walsingham and the
Earl of Essex bade adieu to their lordly
mansions in Seething Lane, Tower Street; the
Earl of Essex going to the Strand. From
princely dwellings on the site of the present
East India House in Leadenhall Street, a
whole covey of the nobility had taken flight
towards the western suburbs. Amongst them
were the Cravens, the Nevills, the Burleighs,
the Zouches, and other aristocratic families of
note. His grace of Suffolk became sick of
the city during the reign of Edward the
Sixth, and bade adieu for ever to his palace
in the Minories. This neighbourhood,
however, boasted of some noble denizens even as
late as in the reign of Charles the First, when
we find Earl Rivers resident in Savage
Gardens, bringing the fashionable world to his
stately saloons east of Gracechurch Street.

In Elizabeth's reign the migration to the
suburbs began, as we have already said, but her
majesty and her ministers, when they beheld
mansions and shops rising in rapid succession,
to the westward of Temple Bar, feared it
would not only be difficult to govern and
preserve order in so large a metropolis as
they seemed likely to have, but actually
impossible to provide all the inhabitants with a
sufficiency of food and fuel! Accordingly a
proclamation was issued, prohibiting any
further extension of the City, under pain of
imprisonment for two years. This edict was
null. The growth was natural, and was not
to be stopped. King James in like manner,
would have stopped the progress of house-
building; but he found himself unable to do
more than issue useless proclamations.

The first house erected in Piccadilly was the
mansion built by Lord Burlington, then in the
midst of fields and lanes. It is said that when
the king asked the owner why he preferred
living so far from London, he replied that he
wished for solitude and repose, and felt
certain that he had found a place where no one
could build near him. But if the aristocracy
and some tradespeople showed so strong a
desire to quit the City, too much of the
outward pressure must not be ascribed to the
want of building space within the City walls;
for we know that, not long before the
time when Burlington House was built,
there were gardens and fields between Shoe
Lane and Chancery Lane. One objection
made against the City was the smoke. Both
before and after the time of the
Commonwealth, there were many and loud
complaints against the intolerable smoke of the
City, which is described by the writers
of the day as driving out the aristocracy.
What our forefathers would have thought of
the cloud under which we now are living,