its proper signification of a place where hawks were mewed
or confined. At the corner of the Mews, between it and the
patty-maker's, ran up Saint Martin's Lane; its western boundary being
the long blank wall of the Mews, and its eastern a few houses, and then
Saint Martin's Church. Along the Strand, eastwards, were stately
private houses on the right hand, and shops upon the left. Just below
the cross, further to the south, was Scotland Yard, the site of the
ancient Palace of King David of Scotland, and still bearing traces of
its former grandeur; then came the Priory of Saint Mary Rouncival, the
town houses of six Bishops, the superb mansion of the Earl of Arundel,
and the house of the Bishops of Exeter, interspersed with smaller
dwellings here and there. A long row of these stretched between Durham
Place and Worcester Place, behind which, with its face to the river,
stood the magnificent Palace of the Savoy, the city habitation of John
of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, eldest surviving son of the reigning King.
The Strand was far narrower than now, and the two churches, instead of
being in the middle, broke the monotony of the rows of houses on the
north side. Let us look more especially at the long row which ran
unbroken from the corner of Saint Martin's Lane to the first church,
that of "our Lady and the holy Innocents atte Stronde."

What would first strike the eye was the signboards, gaily painted, and
swinging in the summer breeze. Every house had one, for there were no
numbers, and these served the purpose; consequently no two similar ones
must be near each other. People directed letters to Master Robert
Altham, "at the Katherine Wheel, by Saint Martin's Church, nigh the
King's Mews," when they had any to write; but letters, except to people
in high life or in official positions, were very rare articles, and
Master Altham had not received a full dozen in all the seven-and-twenty
years that he had lived in the Strand and made patties. Next door to
him was John Arnold, the bookbinder, who displayed a Saracen's head upon
his signboard; then came in regular order Julian Walton, the mercer,
with a wheelbarrow; Stephen Fronsard, the girdler, with a cardinal's
hat; John Silverton, the pelter or furrier, with a star; Peter Swan, the
Court broiderer, with cross-keys; John Morstowe, the luminer, or
illuminator of books, with a rose; Lionel de Ferre, the French baker,
with a vine; Herman Goldsmith, the Court goldsmith, w