Chapter 6 Capital Exploration #4
The coachman, directed by Mr. Bingley, parked the carriage near the corner of Cockspur and Whitehall.
From their comfortable seats, they could leisurely inspect the impressive statue and rows of handsome buildings fronting the bustling intersection.
Darcy and Bingley took turns pointing out the various businesses and residences, such as Northumberland House, but of particular importance to Darcy was the Royal Mews.
“The current building houses the horses which belong personally to the king and prince regent. As such, it should more appropriately be called the Royal Stables. However, as the original area and structures were for the falcons and hawks kept by the monarchy for the sport of falconry, from as early as 1377, the term mews has remained. How I wish they were still intact and able to be seen with my own eyes.”
His timbre carried a note of reverence Lizzy had never detected before, and his eyes glowed.
Not until after they were married would she learn of his passion for falconry and the mews at Pemberley.
At present it was a mystery to file away, the tour commencing with a sudden snap of the reins driving them back into the traffic heading east on the Strand.
Passing by the Savoy and Somerset House, Darcy and Bingley shared the history and personal perspectives of both.
Moments later, the carriage turned left onto a narrow, unnamed street.
This diverting was followed by a series of left and right turns, Lizzy struggling in vain to reconcile their location with the vague map of London in her mind.
Thus far, the ladies were losing the guessing game.
Not that they would truly be losers in the end, of course.
Nevertheless, there was an element of pride attached.
“Are we to shop at Covent Garden, then?”
Jane’s query was asked in such a calm, indifferent tone that, for a whole minute, no one said a word. Naturally, it was Mr. Bingley who rallied first.
“Outstanding, Miss Bennet! See that, Darcy? I knew we could not fool them.”
“I am sincerely impressed,” Darcy admitted. “Indeed, Miss Bennet, we are nearing Covent Garden.”
Piping up from her cozy spot between Jane and Lizzy, Georgiana implored, “Praise God, a place to find food. I am famished!”
“I fail to see how you could be ‘famished’ so soon after breakfast, Sister dear, but you are correct that we did have the idea of a light snack of fresh fruit or whatever looks appetizing, with a beverage to quench our thirst.”
For over an hour they explored the vast square containing rows of stalls selling fruits and vegetables, as well as the endless varieties of flowers the market was famous for.
Darcy offered tidbits of history in between buying anything Lizzy or Georgiana showed the faintest interest in.
As for the purchasing, Lizzy’s embarrassment over his inexhaustible generosity slowly faded, primarily due to Georgiana, who was accustomed to her brother obtaining anything she wanted, so she didn’t bat an eyelash.
As for the history, while frequently interrupted and often difficult to hear over the clamor, Lizzy soaked it in, along with the exhilarating sights, sounds, and smells.
“The Earl of Bedford hired architect Inigo Jones to create an organized layout for the market. I believe that was somewhere in the second or third decade of the seventeenth century. Jones’s design included the piazza you see along two sides of the square, the graveled central courtyard itself, terraces of impressive houses ringing the square, and Saint Paul’s Church.
” Darcy indicated the colonnaded, distinctly Romanesque building in the precise center of the western side.
“It holds the distinction of being the first new church built in London after the Reformation. Jones was inspired by Italian architecture, hence the Tuscan porticos and raised arcade. Fire has damaged the church once or twice, with reconstruction undoubtedly altering the original design, but it is still impressive.”
“The whole square is quite lovely,” Lizzy said. “I suppose it is unfair to compare a famed, city marketplace with the ramshackle, country equivalents I am familiar with. Covent Garden is a pleasant surprise.”
“The Earl of Bedford was forward thinking, a trait I admire. Sometimes we forget that London was not always the modern metropolis which now surrounds us. In the era of Henry VIII, the lands separating the boroughs of London and Westminster were considerable. Vast acres of orchards, gardens, meadows, and farming connected to Westminster Abbey’s Benedictine monastery.
It is the latter wherein the name comes from, covent being an etymological derivative of the Latin and the ancient French words for a religious house.
That random information aside, even a hundred years after King Henry, much of this area remained farmland.
The need for a centrally located market for produce was a brilliant idea of the earl’s, and Charles II agreed, with royal Letters Patent granted to him. ”
They had reached a large, low-gated patio attached to Evan’s Hotel, located at the northwest corner of the piazza.
Dozens of tables with matching chairs dotted the sizable space edged with potted bushes and trees displaying varying stages of autumn leaves.
Situated roughly catercorner from Saint Paul’s Church, the patio afforded an excellent view.
It was here they rested for a spell, revivified with pots of coffee and tea, and a light repast of fresh fruit and baked pastries served by the hotel.
For a while, they drank and ate in silence as they watched the endlessly fascinating sea of people out in the market.
Jane, her eyes scanning the many storied buildings bordering the marketplace, reinitiated the conversation with a question. “I imagined the Theatre Royal would have an elaborate entrance in keeping with its prestigious reputation. Yet I cannot discern which of these it is.”
“None of them, Miss Bennet,” Bingley replied. “The theatre entrance is on Bow Street, one block to the east. The rear abuts the houses along the eastern piazza, so it is quite close, hence the more common name of Covent Garden Theatre, though it’s not technically accurate.”
“The theatre was not built until 1731, Miss Bennet,” Darcy added when Bingley said no more.
“By then, the square was established with no room for a grand theatre. Plus—and this is my personal conclusion based on what I have read—I believe John Rich, the celebrated harlequin who established the theatre for his company and obtained the financing, mainly wanted to compete with Drury Lane’s Theatre Royal.
In his estimation, it was a bonus being a block separated rather than two or more. ”
“Ah, well that explains my confusion. Thank you. It also explains why the buildings are all so uniform. Excepting the church, of course.”
“Precisely, Miss Bennet.” Darcy leaned to pour more coffee into his cup, doing the same for Bingley, followed by topping off the cups of tea fir each lady, continuing his narrative as he served.
“As I said earlier, the Earl of Bedford, that being the fourth to bear the title, was a man with modern sensibilities and foresight. He, with the help of Jones, was the first to create the concept of a town square with symmetry and similar architectural style as a hallmark feature. It is an ideal we now enjoy all over London. Originally, the buildings fronted by the piazza and those located on the secondary streets were residences of persons of title and high rank, as well as of men esteemed in the world of art and literature. Newer, fashionable areas arose to supplant Covent Garden, and by the middle of the previous century, all but a handful of the homes transformed into shops, hotels, coffee and oyster houses, and so on. As you can see.”
Speaking with a tone of nostalgia common when remembering the past, Mr. Bingley divulged a personal perspective of the area.
“I remember my grandfather’s house on Maiden Lane, just one street to the south.
We lived there for a short time, while my father and mother were renovating our townhouse.
I was young, and the memories are dim images of our nurse walking to the market.
She always bought us a piece of fruit, once even a banana, quite a rarity then, and a single flower for Louisa. ”
“Miss Caroline did not earn a flower?”
Mr. Bingley smiled at Georgiana’s innocent question.
“She was but a babe in a wheeled miniature carriage, Miss Darcy. Although, now that you mention it, I never recall nurse being as generous with flowers for my younger sister. Of the three of us, Caroline has always been the most…troublesome to love.”
“Does your family still own the house on Maiden Lane?” Jane’s sweetly voiced question diverted from further unpleasant comments about Caroline, a relief to everyone.
“Not too many years later he sold the house and moved in with us. In part, this was due to his failing health, but he often spoke of the changes to Covent Garden. His father had built the house, and my grandfather lived his entire life here. He watched unsavory ilk infiltrating. It was a distressing development which pained him greatly.”
“Sadly, this is true.” Darcy added, a hint of sadness in his voice.
“The area has tremendously changed. For several decades, it became nigh impossible to enter the market without risking thievery or worse. Improvements are happening, slowly, and I believe the time will come for a complete revamping. Covent Garden is too important and too centrally located to ignore. Even now, it is not wise to stay past dark or stray off the main paths and open areas. When the crowds are thick, even in the broad light of day, one has to be particularly diligent guarding the pocket where their purse resides.”