the last century. The neighbourhood was badly decayed and had become as Irish as its name. It was one of the few places in London whither one could go to celebrate Saint Patrick's Day. Its end came with the making of Kingsway. By this great thoroughfare which King Edward opened in 1905 the twentieth century laid a firm finger on the problems of London traffic. For more than half-a-century attempts had been made to connect the two great highways that ran from the City to the West End, but the authorities baulked at the cost, and it was left to the London County Council to prepare the scheme and foot the bill. Until then the only cab routes to the north between Temple Bar to Charing Cross were the narrow lawyer-infested defile of Chancery Lane and a broad sweeping way that began with Charing Cross Road. From time to time some little by-way that fell furtively off Oxford Street or Holborn made a despairing effort to attract traffic and better its rents by hanging out such signs as "THIS IS THE NEAREST WAY TO WATERLOO," but they did not deceive even the youngest cabby. Those that did not end in lanes and doubled upon themselves as though losing heart at the prospect before them, or in courts and blind alleys, slanted off into other streets by which it was just possible to make the passage; but no one ever heard of its being done. Between Lincoln's Inn Fields and Charing Cross Road no way was straight or had right angles. The Regency tradition of a young man (a law clerk) with a black bag who started one rainy night from Holborn for the Strand and could often be seen in foul weather doubling the isthmuses and beating about the channels of Clare Market, never reaching his bourne, had nothing improbable in it until the day before yesterday. I almost think |