NEW INN BESIDES the Inns of Court, there were formerly in con nexion with them sundry minor places of study and residence known as Inns of Chancery. One of these, Clifford's Inn, which is described on another page, still remains with us, though it has only narrowly escaped destruction. A few years ago, when Wych Street was still standing, an archway on its northern side led into a peculiarly pleasing quadrangle of red brick buildings which formed the precinct of New Inn. These consisted of chambers on three of its sides. In the fourth, towards the east, there was the charming little hall, of which two illustrations are given, one of them showing the melancholy work of destruction in progress. The rest of this side consisted of an open railing, through which could be seen the picturesque garden house of the adjoining Clement's Inn, and the sundial supported by the little figure, long known as the Blackamoor, and now to be seen in the garden of the Inner Temple. Not everyone may know the verses which some wag composed upon it. They are these In vain, poor sable son of woe, Thou seek'st the tender tear; From thee in vain with pangs they flow, From cannibals thou fled'st in vain, The first won't eat you till you're slain, On one of those bright days which, though country folk may smile incredulously, we do get in London, the appearance of New Inn, with its well-kept Court and the open vista on one of its sides into a trim garden, was entirely charming; and that the more, because of the sordid though picturesque quarters through which you passed to find yourself in a place so peaceful to the mind and so pleasing to the eye. For you entered it either from Wych Street or from the crowded, squalid alleys of Clare Market. One fragrant memory clung to New Inn, the memory of Sir Thomas More, once a student there before he was entered of Lincoln's Inn. In his later life, when contemplating the possible vicissitudes of fate, he said, with his wonted humour, he might yet come down again to "New Inn fare, wherewith many an honest man is well contented!" The Inn was the only one of the smaller houses remaining attached to the Middle Temple. Its armorial bearings were vert, a flower-pot argent. No doubt, because it was so much buried away, the Inn was known to very few of the countless thousands of people who passed near it every day. Few, therefore, realise how great a loss was involved in its destruction. A. R. |