The Sun. — 1865-02-25 (London, England)

THE STRAND—the Highway of the world, as N. P. Willis called it once upon a time, so calling it, by the way, not by any means hyperbolically, this grand trunk-road connected London with Westminster—turning into The Strand under the guidance of Mr. Thornbury, what is there that we want to know about the Strand that he leaves untold ? If he pauses, for example, in it before Sir William. Chambers's noble palatial pile of buildings, called Somerset House, he thus recounts to us how the old palace that was wont to occupy the same site, presented a singular spectacle when the clearance for the demolition commenced. "At the extremity of the Royal apartments," he says, " two large folding doors joined Inigo Jones's additions to John of Padua's work. They opened into a long gallery on the first floor of the water garden wing, at the lower end of which was another gallery, making an angle forming the original river front, and extending to Strand-lane. This old part had been long shut up and was supposed to be haunted. The gallery was panelled and floored with oak. The chandelier chains still hung from the stucco ceilings. The furniture of the Royal apartment was removed into lumber rooms by the Royal Academy. There were relics of a throne and canopy ; the crimson velvet curtains for the audience-chamber had faded to olive colour, and all the ' fringe and lace but a few threads and spangles had been peeled off them. There were also broken chairs, stools, couches, screens, and fire-dogs scattered about in disorder." Again—there is the old Strand Maypole, that we have all heard of—in regard to which he tells us in so many words : " The Maypole was Satan's flag-staff in the eyes of the stern Puritans, who dreaded Christmas pies, cards, and dances. Down it came when Cromwell went up. The Strand Maypole was reared again with exulting ceremony the first May day after the Restoration. The parishioners bought a pole 134 feet high, and the Duke of York, the Lord High Admiral, lent them twelve seamen to help to raise it. It was bronght from Scotland-yard with drums music, and the shouts of the multitude ; flags flying, and three men bare-headed carrying crowns. The two halves being joined together with iron bands, and the gilt crown and vane and king's arms placed on the top, it was raised in about four hours by means of tackle and pulleys. The Strand rang with the people's shouts, fOr to them the Maypole was an emblem of the good old times. Then there was a mortis dance, with tabor and pipe, the dancers wearing purple scarfs and half shirts.' The children laughed, and the old people clapped their hands, for there was not a bigger Maypole in Europe," Or, let us hear what he has to tell us about the once famous but now almost forgotten Strand Ex change : " Thomas Duffet, an actor of Charles ll.'s time, was originally a milliner here. At the Eagle and Child, in Britain's Bourse, the first edition of "Othello" was sold in 1622. At the sign of the Three Spanish Gipsies lived Thomas Radford, who sold wash-balls, powder, andgloves; and taught sempstresses. His wife, the daughter of John rlarawa farrier in the Savov before or after Radf  death, married drunken General Monk, became the vulgar Duchess of Albemarle, and was eventually buried in Westminster Abbey. At the sign of the Fop's Head lived, in 1674, Will Cademan, a player and play publisher, Henry Herringham, the chief London publisher before Dryden's petty tyrant, Tonson, had his shop at the Blue Anchor in the Lower Walk. Mr. and Mrs. Pepys frequented the New Exchange. Here the Admiralty's clerk's wife had "a mind to" a petticoat of sarcenet bordered with lace, and probably purchased it. Here also, in April, 1664, Pepys and his friend Creed partook of " a most delicate dish of curds and cream." Both Wycherly and Etherege have here laid scenes of their comedies ; and here, too, Dryden's intriguing Mrs. Brainsick pretends to visit her "tailor" to try her new stays.  How keen-wittedly and keen-eyed, too, Walter Thornbury traverses the same paths already trodden byLeigh Hunt and others, let his comment on a certain well-known, but as he here takes occasion to designate, very foolish London tradition about the statue of Charles the First at Charingcross, sufficiently indicate. " London," quoth he, " Has its local traditions as well as the smallest village. There is a village story that the sculptor of Charles I. and his steed committed suicide in vexation at having forgotten to put a girth to his horse. The myth has arisen from the supposition of there being no girth, and retailers of such stories (Mr. Leigh Hunt included) did not take the trouble to ascertain whether there was or was not a girth. Unfortunately for the story (like Charles ll.'s in the pail of water) there is a girth, and it is clearly visible!" Enough, however, in the way of illustra tive quotation from a book tempting us, let us frankly confess it, to pilfer tidbits from it, thus, unconscionably. There are abundant embellishments scattered among the letterpress in the shape of pretty little woodcuts, the pencillings of Mr. Fairholt. The whole work—printed as it is on the thickest paper and bound in bevelled covers, richly emblazoned—forming a very handsome volume, a volume worthy of being pronounced to be an acquisition either for the table or for the bookshelf of any lettered Londoner.  MB.