And so let us tear ourselves away from Beau Brummell’s doorstep in Chesterfield Street and return to the top of the pavement and Charles Street and my preoccupation with doorways.
You have to allow that the doorway at No. 26 is a real pip, complete with a plaster bust above the entranceway. Neither Hibbert nor Google have enlightened me thus far, so if anyone knows more about this house, please let me know. Let us proceed . . . . .
And wander aimlessly through the deserted streets until we find ourselves at this interesting building at the entrance to Hays Mews.
Look . . . . another bust. . . . . I am just now noticing that there was a plaque beside the door. I know I didn’t notice it when I was standing there, or I’d have gone up and read it. Now I’m left to wonder, as are you, what this building houses. Sorry, old thing, wasn’t thinking . . . . .
Let’s make a right into Hays Mews, shall we?
This area was laid out circa 1750 to provide stables and coachhouses for the houses in Berkeley Square and adjacent streets. Architecturally, not much has changed, thank goodness, although there are now cars parked on the street, rather than a jaunty cabriolet.
As I’ve already divulged the contents of my pockets, you know that I had no map with me and, truly, from this point on I simply wandered the streets as the whim took me, so I don’t have detailed descriptions of where some of the following photos were taken.
I wound up back at Charles Street, below, and still had the streets all to myself. I did warn you that I was oddly pre-occupied with house fronts and doorways, didn’t I?
The Only Running Footman, at the corner of Hays Mews and Charles Street. Now an upmarket restaurant, for centuries, it was known as the I Am The Only Running Footman pub, frequented by servants from the houses in the area.
I’ll leave you here, in Clarges Mews, for a bit until the next installment. I hope you’ve enjoyed our Mayfair stroll half as much as I did.
Part Three Coming Soon . . . . . . .