They have some very attractive hotels in Boston; the Brunswick, for example, and everybody has heard of the beautiful Spanish hotels in St. Augustine, and the great Auditorium in Chicago. I have lived at all these houses, also at the Hotel del Coronado, Coronado Beach, and at California’s other famous house, the Hotel del Monte, at Monterey, with its 126 acres for a garden. There are few or none that are more gorgeous than these, and they always come to one’s memory when discussing the best hotels, but certainly New York City cannot boast of a hotel interior that equals in tasteful decorations those of the Bristol in London. It is a gem in its way.
A veritable bijou of a room is the reception room of the Bristol. It is minus the onyx tables and costly paintings you see at the Ponce de Leon in St. Augustine, and the “gold” chairs that dazzle your eyes in so many American hotels: everything in this room at the Bristol, from the soft carpet on the floor to the decoration on the ceiling, is rich, but also quiet in tone—soothing and harmonious. The Royal Academy, the Burlington Arcade (a fashionable shopping street) and Piccadilly are all within a few hundred feet of the Bristol. The Bristol is patronized by such well-known New Yorkers as the Vanderbilts, the Twomblys and the owner of the New YorkWorld. Telegraph or write to the Bristol Hotel, Burlington Gardens, London, W.
Although rebuilt and opened as recently as the beginning of 1890, the Hotel Albemarle has already gained a position and reputation as one of the most select and fashionable hotels in London. Its situation, to begin with, has undoubtedly had much to do with its immediate success. It conspicuously fronts the north end of the celebrated thoroughfare, St. James’s street, in the centre of the court quarter of London, and stands at the corner of Albemarle street and Piccadilly. No better location for a hotel destined to be at once aristocratic and accessible to the traveling public could have been selected. Towering high above the surrounding buildings, the Albemarle, with its double façade, seventy-five feet on Piccadilly and seventy-five feet on the street from which it takes its name, cannot fail to attract observation. It is built of terra cotta in the Francis I. style of architecture, and the general effect is both graceful and imposing.
The main entrance is in Albemarle street. The interior of the hotel is furnished and decorated in a variety of styles of the Renaissance period. The furniture and decoration of the dining-room, ladies’ drawing-room on the ground floor, the fitting and decoration of the hall and staircase, are treated in the style of Francis I. The style of Henri II. has been adopted for the first and second floors; the third floor is in the style of Louis XV., and the fourth in that of Louis XIV. Special mention must be made of the “Rubens Room,” furnished and decorated effectively in the Louis XV. style. This apartment derives its name from a fine painting which adorns the ceiling, and which is believed to be from the brush, either of Rubens himself or of one of his pupils.
The furnishing, fitting and decorating of the Hotel Albemarle were effected by the well-known London firm of Shoolbred, after designs from a famous French artist. The building being of such recent erection, it is scarcely necessary to state that none of the modern improvements has been neglected in its construction. The most careful attention has been paid to sanitary arrangements, and the hotel is lighted throughout by electricity. In the two years which have elapsed since it was opened, it has quickly become renowned for the excellence of its cuisine and service. Its wine cellar is one of the choicest in London.
Royalty, the nobility, and visitors of the highest fashion patronize the Hotel Albemarle. During the London season, in particular, its rooms are crowded with distinguished guests. To Americans, especially, it should prove a most attractive resort, if only on account of the brilliant and aristocratic neighborhood in which it is situated. St. James’s Park, St. James’s Palace and Marlborough House are near at hand. Hyde Park, with its “Drive” and “Row,” is within five minutes’ walk. The Art Galleries, the theatres,the Opera House, the Houses of Parliament, the clubs, Westminster Abbey, and several of the principal museums are within the compass of a shilling cab fare. The best and most fashionable shops in London are situated in the near vicinity, in Piccadilly and in Bond and Regent streets, while Oxford street, where many of the cheaper shops are to be found, is but a short distance off—in short, it may be said that the Hotel Albemarle stands almost in the centre of the fashionable life and business of London.
Interest attaches to Albemarle street itself as an historical thoroughfare. During the last century it enjoyed peculiar reputation as a place of residence at the west end of the metropolis, and not a little of this old-time prestige clings to it still. The Prince of Wales, afterwards George the Second, once lived in Albemarle street, and when Louis the Eighteenth of France was in England in 1814 he made it his place of stay, and held, at the now defunct “Grillon’s Hotel,” his receptions of the leaders of the English nobility. The famous publishing house, Murray’s, through whose doors have passed such celebrities in the world of letters as Byron, Scott, Southey, Crabbe, Hallam, Tom Moore, Gifford, Lockhart, Washington Irving and many others, is situated immediately opposite the entrance to the Hotel. You would never imagine that it was a publishing house or business house of any kind. It looks like an ordinary private dwelling, and the only sign on the building is one small, dull brass plate on the front wall upon which is engraved “Mr. Murray.”
The proprietor of the Hotel Albemarle is Mr. A. L. Vogel. He is to be congratulated on the rapid success he has met with in his efforts to establish one of the best of London hotels. Mr. Vogel has purchased the freehold of property adjoining the Albemarle Hotel, and a large addition to the hotel will be erected presently, thus affording room for a newsalle a mangerand some thirty more bedrooms.
Mr. Vogel issues as a “Guide to London” a comprehensive and, in its way, a complete little book of fifty pages, illustrated and prettily bound in cloth. It is sent free to any address in the world on application. Address The Albemarle, Albemarle street, Piccadilly, London.
The Burlington is in Cork street, a select, and fashionable business thoroughfare between Bond street and Regent street. In this immediate locality are also to be found Long’s Hotel, the Bristol, Almond’s Hotel, patronized by Chauncey Depew and his family, and Brown’s Hotel in Dover street. The last-named house affects not to desire American patronage. The Burlington has enjoyed for over a century a truly unique reputation and position in London. The hotel, as seen from the Burlington street side, has a dignified exterior. It was erected in the year 1723, after designs by Kent, by Richard, third earl of Burlington, but the Cork street side was added to the old hotel in 1828.
It contains about one hundred and fifty rooms, and among these are as fine apartments as may be met with in any hotel in the world. The hotel entrance and the staircase are strikingly attractive, and the galleries, opening from the staircase to the first floor, have a most charming effect. Pretty alcoves occupy the ends of the gallery, and on the side opposite to the colonnade, which looks on to the staircase, is a richly ornamented doorway leading to the drawing-rooms. The latter possess curiously decorated ceilings, painted in oil, with vases, birds, foliage, etc., the work of an Italian artist of the eighteenth century.
The bedrooms are also interesting, as they retain their original carved wood mantelpieces and doorways.There are several noble old rooms on the ground floor with tastefully designed mantelpieces, panelling, cornices, doorways and richly painted ceilings, which might have served for the background of one of Hogarth’s pictures.
In the halls are fine, delicately carved benches by Grinling Gibbons. In their time the old frescoes have been admired by many famous celebrities who have sojourned at the Burlington. “Kitty,” the celebrated Countess of Queensberry, friend of Gay, dispensed her well-known hospitality at this hostelry, and Florence Nightingale occupied a suite of apartments there for some months after the Crimean war. Here, too, Macaulay wrote a portion of his famous history.
Coming to more recent times, there is scarcely a well-known face in London that does not know this aristocratic hotel. Lord Beaconsfield, when he was plain “Mr. Disraeli,” was president of a committee which met there weekly for the purpose of erecting a statue to the memory of the late Earl of Derby. The ex-premier, Mr. Gladstone, and his family have patronized the Burlington for the past fifty years. The Marquis of Salisbury may be occasionally passed in the corridors on his way to the royal apartments of King Leopold, and the Prince of Wales arrives unattended to visit august relatives, who patronize the Burlington. Henry Irving gives his delightful dinner parties there, and the Royal College of Physicians have dined there monthly since 1830. Among distinguished Americans whose names are on the books, may be found George Peabody, the philanthropist, who resided there for eight months, also Jefferson Davis, John Jacob Astor, Mr. Bancroft, General Schenck and General Sandford. Henry M. Stanley also is on the cosmopolitan list of celebrated guests of the Burlington.
The Burlington, as well as the Buckingham Palace Hotel, opposite Buckingham Palace, has for manyyears been managed by Mr. George Cooke, who is one of the proprietors, and under whose administration both hotels have acquired a reputation second to none in Europe. Electric light, new sanitation and every other modern improvement have been introduced, and both the British public, as well as American visitors to London, have been quick to appreciate Mr. Cooke’s effort to make his hotels real London homes for people of taste and refinement.
A London hotel that has, so to speak, jumped into popularity is the Savoy Hotel. It is a new house, on the Victoria embankment, with the Strand at its back, the public gardens in front and the Thames at its feet. It lies between Charing Cross and Waterloo Bridge, and for a “finger post” it has Cleopatra’s needle. There is an entrance for foot passengers from the Strand and a carriage drive from the embankment directly into the courtyard, like that of the Palace Hotel in San Francisco, the Grand Hotel in Paris, and the Grand in Brussels. In fact, the Savoy is more like a continental than an English house, and the owners call it “the Hotel de Luxe of the world.” Luxurious in site, size and appointments, the Savoy certainly is. It is not continental, however, in its system of charges. Nor for that matter is it like any other London hotel, its system being American. In all Parisian hotels candles are a separate charge: in nearly all European hotels attendance is a separate item, and in most hotels in the civilized world you must pay extra for baths. Not so at the Savoy. When you are told the rate for an apartment everything is included—everything of course but meals—bedroom, lights, attendance and baths. There are sixty-sevenbath rooms in the house, and beneath it there is an artesian well four hundred and twenty feet deep. The boiling water, as well as the cold, like Jacobs’s bottle, is inexhaustible, and you can bathe to your heart’s content. You can hire a room for two persons for two dollars a day, or you may engage a suite at twenty dollars a day.
As to table, you may live economically at the Savoy, or you may live like a prince—a rich prince. Here are the definite and fixed rates at the Savoy:—bedrooms for one person, from seven and sixpence (nearly two dollars) per day; for two persons, ten-and-six; suites of apartments containing sitting-room, bed-room, dressing-room and private bath-room, from thirty shillings per day. Breakfast from two shillings to three-and-six; luncheon, four shillings; dinner, seven-and-six; dinner served in private rooms ten-and-six. Guests’ servants are boarded at six shillings per day; price of room according to location. If you want to live in style and enjoy, at its best, life in London, engage a suite at the Savoy, including parlor and bath-room, with private lobby and private balcony overlooking the Thames. It makes no difference what floor you select: there are “lifts” in the house, so large and luxurious as to be justly called “ascending rooms:” they run day and night. The rooms on the top floor are equal in height of ceiling to those on the lower floors, and the furniture is of the same quality throughout the house. General manager, C. Ritz; acting manager, L. Echenard.
The Hotel Windsor is in Victoria street, only five minutes’ walk from Victoria Station, two minutes’ walk from the American Legation, a few steps from WestminsterAbbey, Westminster Bridge, the Houses of Parliament, St. James’s Park and the Home Office. The dining-room of the Windsor is an especially cheerful apartment and it overlooks the pretty garden of a church. The great plate glass windows in this dining-room are larger than the windows in any other hotel, so large that they are only moved up or down by ropes to which handles are attached. They let in plenty of daylight, almost as much as streams freely into the dining-room of the Hotel Pasaje, Havana, which opens on the street, and which is not encumbered with windows at all.
The Hotel Windsor is not only kept by a “proprietor” in the accepted American use of that term, but the furniture, the building and the ground on which it stands are owned in fee (“freehold,” as English people call it), by two men, J. R. Cleave and V. D. B. Cooper, the first named being the actual and active manager of the house, who makes it his home, the title of the firm being J. R. Cleave & Co. The premises include fifteen thousand square feet of ground, which, without the imposing ten-story stone structure upon it, is valued at forty-five thousand pounds sterling—not far short of a quarter million dollars.
The Windsor is fortunate in its location. A shilling cab takes you to any theatre or to the shopping centre, and ’buses pass the door every minute for Charing Cross, Trafalgar square and the Strand. Time, ten minutes; fare, two cents, inside or out.
There is a lift at the Windsor of modern style; the house is lighted by electricity; there are Turkish and swimming baths on the lower floor; to avoid disagreeable odors the kitchen is at the top of the house; the bedrooms are scrupulously clean, thecuisineand wines are of the best quality, and the charges moderate. You can live at the Windsor, if you prefer it, on the American plan—rate, about four dollars a day. The Europeanplan is also moderate in price for rooms and meals—a delicious lunch for sixty cents: choice service.
If this is the description of a model hotel, worthy in every respect of the best patronage, “that,” as humorist Gilbert says, “is the idea I intended to convey.” The Windsor was built about twelve years ago. Address, J. R. Cleave, manager, Victoria street, Westminster, S. W.
Americans going to London for business, intent upon shopping, theatre-going and a round of sight-seeing, find hotels in the Strand, or hotels near Trafalgar square, very convenient. Reference is made to the Grand, the Métropole, the Savoy, and the Victoria, in their alphabetical order. The Langham, in Portland place, and those select houses near Burlington Gardens and Piccadilly—Long’s, the Bristol, the Burlington and the Albermarle, are also central, convenient, and in a fashionable district.
If, however, a family is going to London for a protracted stay and the desire of their hearts is to be in an ultra-fashionable locality, where the aristocracy reside, and where quiet and selectness reign and salubrity is assured, then Bailey’s Hotel, on the corner of Gloucester and Cromwell roads, is recommended and recommends itself. If you are in haste and do not care for a cab, the “underground” will take you from “the city” or from Charing Cross to Bailey’s Hotel in fifteen minutes, fare five cents, third class; fifteen cents in a first-class carriage.
When you reach Gloucester Road Station you are at Bailey’s Hotel, and within a few minutes walk of Hyde Park, Kensington Gardens, Cromwell Gardens, Stanhope Gardens, Queen’s Gate Gardens, etc., etc. Near athand are the Albert Memorial, Albert Hall, and South Kensington Museum. Not only is Bailey’s Hotel in the heart of this fashionable locality, surrounded by the residences of members of the nobility and others, but the hotel itself is under royal patronage, and has entertained the Prince of Wales, the Duke of Edinburgh, the Duke of Connaught, the Princess Marie, the Princess Louise, and other members of the royal household.
The hotel, which stands on the property of Lord Harrington, who owns all the land hereabouts, was built in 1875. It is a brick building, six stories high—a modern hotel with modern improvements, and all possible safeguards against annoyances and dangers. There are accommodations for two hundred and fifty guests. In the rear of the house is a beautiful garden.
The decorations and furnishings of the apartments are in admirable taste, and display an individual and artistic sense of fitness. The style is especially English, but also especially beautiful—there is no gaudiness, but neither is there dinginess. Unlike American hotels, little space is given to halls, bar-room, etc., but there is a cosey, homelike atmosphere, which is enhanced by the rich and substantial surroundings. Because the bar, with its glitter of glass and brass does not obtrude itself, let it not be supposed that wine is eschewed. On the contrary, the wine cellar is a feature of the house, and the stock of wines is valued at ten thousand pounds. As to the quality of the wines, and, by the way, that of the cuisine, they are unsurpassed in London. The sanitary arrangements bear the closest inspection. Some of the very old and small London hotels are not to be trusted in case of fire. Bailey’s Hotel is American-like in the particulars of fire-escapes and preparations for extinguishing a fire.
There is no attempt to lead people to believe that very low prices prevail or that Bailey’s is a “cheap house”in any sense of the term. On the contrary, you pay for the best, and you get it. You can live at Bailey’s Hotel on the European plan at about the same rate as at an American hotel of the first-class. Single rooms rent at about one dollar per day; double rooms from a dollar and a half; suites from four dollars and a half upward. These are the winter rates. They are a trifle higher during “the season.”
As at all English hotels, breakfast varies in price from fifty cents to seventy-five cents; luncheon from sixty cents; table d’hôte dinner, one dollar and twenty-five cents. Of course it is English, and there are some extras. It is a rule at every English hotel, except the Savoy in London, to make a separate charge for “attendance,” about thirty-five cents per day for each person, and Bailey’s conforms to the rule. No American likes it and it seems odd, but it is the custom in England, and when in Rome—-. Four dollars per week is the charge for each member of the canine race.
So much for Bailey’s Hotel proper, but the same proprietor, Mr. James Bailey, is also proprietor of the South Kensington Hotel, and, strange to say, the two hotels are distant from each other only five minutes’ walk, the South Kensington being in Queen’s Gate Terrace.
Being in the same locality, and having the same proprietor, the above remarks and particulars will apply, almost word for word, to both houses. Americans who prefer a quiet, aristocratic quarter, and especially those who have children, will make no mistake in applying for rooms at either hotel, each with its surrounding parks and gardens being particularly adapted to families. For the South Kensington, address Queen’s Gate Terrace, London, S. W.
A couple of small, quiet hotels in Jermyn street—a street which runs parallel with Piccadilly—may be found pleasant by families or by ladies without escort. They lack that bustle and noise to which some people object, and they are not “company hotels,” that is to say the head and front of each is always visible and approachable. Mr. Rawlings is proprietor of the Rawlings Hotel, and Mr. Morle with his family keeps and manages the house which bears his name.
While Jermyn street is narrow and its two hotels are quiet, plenty of life and gayety are to be had near at hand. Bond street and Regent street, two of the most fashionable shopping streets of London, are hard by, and the parks and palaces are within walking distance. Rawlings’ Hotel is famous for its cuisine, and a feature at Morle’s is that you can arrange to live on the American plan if you prefer, the charges being “inclusive,” as they call this plan there, and very moderate withal. Both these houses are homelike and comfortable, but they are not strictly fashionable.
Do not confuse Morle’s in Jermyn street with Morley’s in Trafalgar square. Morley’s has a magnificent outlook, with the noble Nelson Monument, Landseer’s lions and the playing fountains in front, and the dinner served at Morley’s is of the best quality, but the house is very old and rather worn, notwithstanding its white and attractive exterior.
If you want to get away from the Strand, Regent street and Piccadilly; if you are tired of the glare and blare of showy “American hotels,” and you prefer avery quiet, but healthy locality, jot down in your memorandum book, “Norfolk Hotel, Harrington Road, South Kensington, S.W.” The Norfolk was built in the year 1889, not by a company, but by Mr. A. Fatman, who himself keeps the house. It is not large, there is room only for eighty guests, but these eighty can be made very comfortable.
It is not like a hotel in certain respects. The rooms are not all of one size nor of one shape. The furniture does not look as if it were turned out by machinery in Grand Rapids and bought by the car-load. It has character and distinction, no suites of furniture being alike. There is nothing at the Norfolk to remind you, for instance, of a Salt Lake hotel, with its great halls and corridors, and its cold, bare walls. Good taste, as well as money, was used in building and furnishing the Norfolk, and the result is an attractive, cosy, home-like house.
After entering the Norfolk and admiring its pleasant surroundings, the tariff of charges will surprise you. Rooms are let as low as two-and-six (about sixty cents) a night, and, wonderful to relate for a London hotel, there is no charge for attendance. Fish breakfast, one-and-six (thirty-five cents); afternoon tea, sixpence; the same price for hot or cold bath.
Don’t be prejudiced at the sound of “First Avenue Hotel.” It is in Holborn, a bustling, busy thoroughfare, but which has nothing in common with our First avenue in New York. The Gordon’s Hotel Company made a mistake in naming the house; they meant to say Fifth Avenue Hotel, for the First Avenue Hotel ranks probably with our Fifth Avenue Hotel in NewYork, only the First Avenue is not an old house. Holborn is one of London’s main arteries, a continuation, east, of Oxford street. The First Avenue is not very far from St. Paul’s and Newgate. The former being a noble cathedral, you will wish to get into; the latter being a prison, you will wish to keep out of, unless for a temporary visit.
Another hotel in Holborn which may be commended is the Holborn Viaduct Hotel, near the city station of the London, Chatham and Dover Railway.
A pleasant house in High Holborn is the Inns of Court; neither fashionable nor grand, but select and comfortable; largely patronized by English people. Terms moderate. The main entrance is in Lincoln’s Inn Fields.
There are some famous old houses farther east, in the city, in such a bustling, busy quarter as St. Martin’s le Grand, near the General Post Office. The Queen’s Hotel in this neighborhood is best known.
Not far from this locality is the Manchester Hotel, in Aldersgate street. The proprietor of the Manchester Hotel especially solicits American patronage.
Those who desire to make frequent visits to the Houses of Parliament and that grand old pile, Westminster Abbey, will find the Westminster Palace Hotel convenient. It has an imposing front, in Victoria street, Westminster, almost opposite to the Abbey. Within five minutes’ walk of this hotel are the Home Office, St. James’s Park, the Horse Guards, Westminster Bridge, leading to the Surrey side of London, the United States Legation, and the Victoria Station of the London, Chatham and Dover Railway. The favorite and well keptHotel Windsor, referred to elsewhere, is also in Victoria street, and still nearer to the Station and the Legation before mentioned.
Convenient to Hyde Park are the Alexandra Hotel, 16 to 21 St. George’s Place, Hyde Park Corner, and the Hyde Park Hotel. The latter is at the west end of Oxford street, in Hyde Park Place, near the Marble Arch.
Claridge’s Hotel used to be considered “the crack” house of London, and it is still patronized by the nobility, members of the diplomatic corps and by royalty. Nos. 49 to 55 Brook street, Grosvenor Square.
The Hotels connected with the railway stations are large structures, solidly built, fire-proof, as a general rule, and fitted up with every modern contrivance. They are desirable stopping places if you arrive late at night or if you intend to make an early start by rail, from the station, in the morning. They were erected for that purpose and they serve it admirably.
There are very many reputable hotels in London which are worthy of the best patronage, detailed reference to which, in this limited space, it would not be possible to make.
If none of the hotels described or alluded to in the foregoing list suits your plans and purposes, consult friends who have had experience in such matters. But don’t go, hap-hazard, into the smallest and oldest London hotels of whose very existence you never heard. Some of them are unpleasant, as residences; others are unhealthy. If your stay in London is short there is every reason why you should put up at the best houses. If you make a protracted visit and desire to economize, go to a boarding house or take lodgings. You will see signs in windows all over London: hire rooms and eat where your fancy or purse directs. London housekeepers are glad to “eke out” by letting rooms in the summer, and with a small tip now and then to the maid, life can be made very comfortable in London lodgings.
There are plenty of first-class boarding houses where Americans are welcome. Five or six come to mind—Mrs. Pool’s, No. 20 Bedford place; Mrs. Goodman’s, No. 13 Montague place; Mrs. Philp’s, No. 6 Montague place; Mrs. Wright’s, No. 15 Upper Woburn place, and Mr. Cooper’s, No. 1 Bedford place, Russell square. Mrs. Philp is an American whose husband keeps the Cockburn Hotel in Glasgow; and there is a Philp’s Cockburn Hotel in Edinburgh. Mrs. Philp’s drawing-room is beautiful, the dining-room cheerful, and there is a pretty garden which is backed by the walls of the British Museum, so Mrs. Philp is easily found.
Those who want to live economically but comfortably are recommended to the handsome private hotel orpensionof Mrs. Marcus Pool, 20 Bedford place, Russell square. This is a pleasant and convenient quarter of the city—quite handy for the British Museum, not far from Charing Cross, and a shilling cab fare to railway stations and places of amusement. The house is furnished and appointed on a liberal scale; the drawing-room is large and cheerful; the bedrooms are luxuriously fitted up in the best taste, and they have a pleasant outlook. There is a Broadwood piano, also a new billiard room, with a table from the famous firm of Bennett. The house has a refined, home-like air, well representing the character of Mrs. Pool and her charming daughter. French and German are spoken. The terms at the Pool pension are from two dollars a day, which include breakfast, table d’hôte dinner and attendance—“everything inclusive.” Those are the terms “in the season;” the winter rates are lower. The cuisine is of the substantial English quality, but not heavy. At Pool’s pension you are sure to meet cultivated and select people. Those who have been Mrs.Pool’s guests appear perfectly satisfied; for they return again and again. Mr. Cooper keeps a good house and he caters to people accustomed to refined surroundings. He is a typical Londoner of the middle class—honest, blunt and out-spoken. Mrs. Lucy H. Hooper, wife of the American Vice-Consul in Paris, recommends No. 1 Bedford place. Mrs. Hooper makes it her stopping place when she is in London.
“American Family Home.”—An establishment which meets with especial favor among fastidious tourists is Demeter House, 13 Montague place, Russell square, W. C. The location is select, within easy access of the centres of shopping and amusement. The house is kept by Mrs. A. Goodman, who aims to maintain a house replete with the comforts and freedom of a refined home and the advantages of a hotel, but with less expense. The house is spacious and well furnished, the table excellent and carefully provided. Many leading American families make this their home during their annual visits to London.
Put down “No. 15 Upper Woburn place, Tavistock square,” and note that it is not far from Euston station. It is a quiet street. The house is kept by an English woman of refinement, Mrs. Wright and her maiden daughters, and it may be commended as a pleasant Christian home, where grace is said before meals.
Of these boarding houses, like all the hotels mentioned in this article, the writer speaks from his own knowledge and experience. But don’t count on getting accommodation in London hotels in the season, without making previous arrangements or giving notice in advance of your arrival, or you may be disappointed.
It may be set down at the outset that there are no restaurants in London equal to Delmonico’s in Fifth avenue, or the Café Savarin in the Equitable Building, New York, and no London restaurant serves a table d’hôte dinner at any price equal in quality and style of service to that furnished at the select and elegant “Cambridge,” Fifth avenue and 33d street, New York.
Neither is there a restaurant of the third class that will compare with Mouquin’s, in Ann street, where everything is cooked to a turn, and where even a fastidiousgourmetneed not find fault. There are two or three Italian places in Regent street where they serve a “Chateaubriand,” enough for two persons, for one dollar, but nowhere do you get a dish of maccaroni that is more palatable than at Mouquin’s, and neither in London nor Paris do you get as good Burgundy for the price as Mouquin’s beaujolais—half bottle, forty cents.
The foreign halls are more richly gilded, and the furniture is of finer texture, but if you are looking for as good food and as well served at that at Mouquin’s, at Mouquin’s prices, you will look in vain.
In the price of wines, however, no first-class hotel or restaurant anywhere that I know of sells wines as low as the manager of the Hotel del Monte, Monterey, Cal. In France, on the Swiss border, I foundvin ordinairealmost as cheap as water, in the small inns. The Hotel del Monte, please bear in mind, is a superbly appointed and grand establishment, and they serve you a halfbottle of good California Zinfandel for fifteen cents. But then this hotel company own their own vineyards, and make no profit on wine served at table. It is a sort of “sample” or advertisement for their wines.
“The Aerated Bread Shops,” which are as “thick as flies” in London, are probably good enough places to drop into if you are in a great hurry, for a cup of coffee or cocoa and a roll or piece of dry, digestible seed cake. If you abhor marble tables, if you must have aservietteand you would avoid a crowd and mixed company, keep out of the “aerated bread shops,” and by the same token and by all means keep out of the Lockhart lunch shops. The “aerated bread shops” are tolerable; the others are not.
Much more worthy of patronage than aerated bread shops or Lockhart’s lunch shops is the confectionery and cake counter of William Buszard, 197 and 199 Oxford street, where everything is clean and inviting. A similar place of the first-class is that in “the city” of Alfred Purssell & Co., No. 80 Cornhill, E. C. The proprietor of this establishment is related to the late William Purssell, founder of the famous restaurant in Broadway which still bears his name. There are several pleasant places in and near Piccadilly where you may obtain a cup of tea or cocoa and a dainty sandwich, just enough to “stay the appetite.” One of the best of these is Callard’s, 146 New Bond street, but even in this neat and clean little shop they don’t know what aservietteis.
Romano’s, called “The Vaudeville,” 399 Strand, is recommended for its moderate charges, but this is a place I have never tried. So much for the confectioners and the cheap restaurants.
The Tivoli restaurant, up stairs, connected with the Tivoli Music Hall, is in the Strand, just East of Charing Cross. “La Haute Cuisine Française,” as they term it, is in charge of a famouschef, M. Gerard. A Table d’HôteLuncheon, at 2s. 6d., from 12 to 3; Parisian dinner, at 5s., from 6 to 9, served in the Flemish Room.
Londoners are proud of their Holborn Restaurant, 218 High Holborn, where the glass and the brass and the marble columns are resplendent and imposing, and where you are regaled with vocal music (English glees) during the dinner hour, but the meals are not daintily served: the butter is not cold, and the plates are not warm, and unless you order a costly meal at the Holborn Restaurant, the waiter may wait on you with condescension. Dinner, three-and-six.
If you are in “the city,” in the neighborhood of the Bank (the Bank of England), and you have a desire to see how and where some of the brokers and commission merchants lunch, step into the Winchester House in Bishopgate street—a well-lighted, well-furnished restaurant, where no charge is made to customers, strange to say, for use of water and soap.
Ladies who are in the neighborhood of Westminster Abbey or who have business at the American Legation, are recommended to the Army and Navy stores, in Victoria street, opposite the Windsor Hotel, where a dainty lunch is served at a very moderate sum. You can do your shopping in the same large establishment. They sell everything, from a poached egg to an Axminster carpet or a wedding outfit. The Army and Navy stores is on the coöperative plan. To gain entrance you must either use a member’s ticket number or use good judgment.
Gatti is a well-known name in the Strand, where the Gattis have two large, gaudily furnished restaurants, one of which extends to King William street. The Gattis are also owners of the Adelphi Theatre, where you may always enjoy a drama—if you enjoy melodrama. The Gattis are Swiss, and one of the brothers is a legislator in one of the Swiss Cantons. They commenced in a small way, in the east end of London, manyyears ago and made a reputation for their ices. They long since moved to the west end, where they increased their business and they now conduct a thriving trade. All Gatti’s waiters are foreigners. They are a talkative set and some people might prefer that their linen be nearer the color of snow.
If you are in the neighborhood of Piccadilly Circus, a fair place to get luncheon at a fair price is “the Florence” in Rupert street, Regent street. It is an Italian restaurant; the lunch is served table d’hôte and the price is one shilling and sixpence. But there is no profit to the restaurateur in the mere lunch: you are expected to order wine—indeed that is the expectation in all English restaurants and hotels—all hotels that are not temperance houses. At the Florence you can get dinner from six to nine, for half-a-crown—sixty-two cents—and you order wine of course.
If you are fond of high living, and you don’t mind paying for it, take a meal in the middle of the day orearlyin the evening at the Hotel Continental. It is in the lower part of Regent street, on the corner of Waterloo place, within the shadow of the Duke of York column. It was one of the first houses in London to adopt the French style in name—Hotel Continental in lieu of Continental Hotel—and it was one of the first to serve a first class dinner in the French style. The reputation for itscuisineis second to none, and the hotel prides itself upon the accuracy of the names and vintages of the wines supplied. It has the monopoly in London of that famous brand of champagne, “Medaille d’Or” which received the grand prize in the French Exhibitionof 1878 over sixty other competing wines. Cigarettes made of the finest tobacco are manufactured expressly for the hotel in Constantinople and Salonica.
There is always a very gay scene in the Hotel Continental supper room after the theatres close; it might become too lively in the early hours of the morning, but the police regulations oblige such places as the Continental to close their doors at one A.M. Dinner from seven-and-six to twelve-and-six, without wine, of course; for although you are in the Continental you are not on the Continent. A. Y. Wilson, who has been connected with the house since its opening, is the manager.
More attention is given to “the inner man” in London than in any other place I wot of. They seem to live to eat there, not eat to live, and yet some one has noted this difference—you eat dinner in London, while in Paris you dine. Mention the subject of restaurants in London and the majority will ask you, “Have you dined at Verrey’s in Regent street?” Yes, I’ve been to Verrey’s and I found it very gloomy, and very expensive not to say oppressive. You are in the middle of the house and the room is lighted from a skylight. It is not at all cheerful.
Blanchard’s, “The Burlington,” 169 Regent street, is patronized by the higher classes. Dinner from five shillings to twelve-and-six. No higher priced dinner in London.
For a healthful, nicely-served meal, whether it consist of a mutton chop and a boiled potato or a dinner of several courses, much better than the aforesaid establishments in Regent street is the Café Royal, at No. 68 Regent street. In the “Grand Café Restaurant Royal,” where dinner is served, prices rule high. For luncheon go into the “Grill Room” of the Café Royal. You will find the rates reasonable, the food of the best, the appointments on a grand scale, and the service satisfactory.These remarks will also apply to “The Monico,” at Piccadilly Circus and Shaftesbury avenue.
The St. James Restaurant, which extends from Piccadilly to Regent street, with entrances on both streets, is a large, showy place, with plenty of glitter about it, and wearing the big-sounding title of St. James Hall. The rates are not low, the food is not of the choicest quality, the service is not of the best, and the waiters may over-charge you unless you watch them closely. The charge for washing your hands at the St. James, be you a patron or not, is two-pence. This is a regular charge made by the proprietors, but if you don’t also fee the man who hands you a towel or fills your basin, you might get a cold reception down-stairs the next time you call, and you may fill your own basin.
At the Criterion, in Piccadilly Circus, you can take your choice; go up stairs, and the charges are higher; down in the basement the same dishes are served at a lower price. To quote their bill, “table d’hôte three-and-six,le diner Parisien, five shillings.”
English people when they are thirsty drink beer, wine, or something stronger; Americans who live in cities, American women at least, prefer something weaker, soda water, for instance, which, charged with gas, looks cool and inviting as it comes bubbling from a highly polished, silver-plated fountain. Not until recently could American taste in this matter be gratified in London. Now there are two “American confectioneries” kept by Fuller, one, the principle establishment, at 206 Regent street; the other, at 358 Strand, both central locations. The first is close to Oxford Circus and not far from the Langham Hotel. At Fuller’s you can get ice-cream soda and “caramels fresh ever hour.” In fact, on a pleasant summer day Fuller’s, in Regent street, will remind you of Huyler’s on Broadway, and if you are a New Yorker, you will meet many familiar faces there. If you retain a juvenilepenchantfor peanuts, that taste can also be gratified at Fuller’s.
So many of the transient guests at hotels in London are out shopping and sight-seeing, that they generally take only breakfast, or, at most, breakfast and dinner, at their hotels, always lunching wherever convenience may permit. The meals at European hotels being usually a separate charge, the hotel is a sufferer by this custom, so that at some, if not most houses, it is understood that, if you take your meals out, a higher charge will be made for your apartment. The manager of the Grand Hotel, however, has opened a restaurant of his own, in his own house, which is so attractive that it not only keeps together his regular guests, but allures “the outside world,” and thus the “Grill Room,” as it is called, of the Grand has become famous in London.
While within and a part of the Grand Hotel, it is not reached by the main entrance in Northumberland avenue. It is at the eastern end of the building, around the corner, in the Strand, and is in what we would call in New York a basement, but no ordinary “basement” is this, and the staircase leading to it is anything but ordinary. The Grill Room of the Grand is a well-lighted, cheerful apartment, richly carpeted and finely furnished. The chairs are comfortably upholstered, the walls are gorgeous with polished tiles, the table furniture is dainty, the food is of prime quality, and the tariff of charges moderate.
Don’t be surprised at the charge, two-pence, for washing your hands in the Grill Room lavatory, and unless you occupy a room, the charge for use of lavatory in the hotel proper is three-pence; but it is worth half a crown merely to see the lavatory, or rather the staircase and landing leading to it, so beautiful are the colored marble fountain, the eastern rugs, the fernery and the Oriental lamps, with which this lower part of the houseis decorated. The view of this lower part from the marble staircase on the main floor has been called fairy-like; it is certainly very pleasing.
Strangers are not allowed the run and freedom of the hotels in Europe as they are in “the States.” They can’t use the smoking-room, read the newspapers, loiter about the halls, make a general rendezvous of the house and help themselves to stationery in European hotels as they do on this side. Their hotels lack some of our popular features and the excellent service and discipline of the American hotels, but, on the other hand, they are not so noisy, and are more private. American hotels suit Americans, and the hotels in England satisfy the wants and desires of English people.
A Characteristic English Restaurant.—A good, plain, thoroughly wholesome English dinner is served in an appetizing way by English waiters at Simpson’s, in the Strand, next door to Terry’s Theatre, opposite Exeter Hall. You get a bowl of good soup, a course of fish, a cut from the joint, a salad, two kinds of vegetables, with bread and butter, a biscuit and a bit of rich Gorgonzola or dry Wiltshire cheese to wind up with, and your whole bill will be four shillings, to which add threepence for “attendance,” which is charged in the bill, and about threepence more which you will hand to the waiter. A feature of the place is that the hot joint, over a chafing dish and on a small table, is wheeled round to you, and it is there cut before your eyes and transferred to your plate. You can get a lower-priced dinner in London, and higher-priced dinners where you please, but none of a better quality and none that is more satisfactory unless you demand fancy fol de rols, indigestibleentrées and French dishes made of little or nothing.
Simpson’s is justly celebrated for its “fish” dinners. Both these and the meal above described are served in the middle of the day and in the evening also. On Sunday the evening dinner only is served; the place is closed until 6 P.M.
Simpson’s enjoys the patronage of Henry Irving and of other people famous in the theatrical world, just as it did in the last century. Henry Irving’s Lyceum Theatre, by the way, is in the Strand, near Simpson’s, but on the opposite side of the street. In the summer of 1890 I saw D’Oyly Carte enjoying his dinner at Simpson’s. This is a special compliment to the place, because that magnificent hotel, the Savoy, in which this theatrical manager is interested, is just around the corner from Simpson’s, on the Thames Embankment. During the summer of ’91 I met at Simpson’s another theatrical manager, our own Augustin Daly, with his wife. Mr. and Mrs. Daly occasionally left the Hotel Métropole, where they had apartments, to partake of one of Simpson’s substantial, well-cooked and appetizing meals. There’s no Simpson now, the founder died long ago, but “Simpson’s” is there yet, as it was a hundred years ago, although it is now a limited company. Howard Paul eulogizes this place, and Stephen Fiske recommends it. Besides being a brilliant writer on dramatic matters, Mr. Fiske has made a study of the gastronomic art, and he lived in London continuously during nine years. The reading public put faith in Stephen Fiske’s dramatic criticism; his intimates also trust to his good taste and judgment in ordering a dinner.
It is a well-known fact that changes in the employees at this establishment are seldom made. Some of the waiters have stood at the tables for nearly two decades, and the head waiter has been there (probably not always as head waiter) for more than thirty years. The name of thishead water is Charles Flowerdew, so he informed me, and I can impart this piece of information—that this same Flowerdew is a character worth studying. There is nothing of the “Yellowplush” type about him, but he is such a character, courteous and civil (yes, seemingly servile to an American’s eye), such as Dickens delighted to draw.
Mr. Flowerdew knows all the old customers at Simpson’s, and, what is of more consequence to a hungry man, he knows all the choice cuts. He will suggest the best dishes, the rare bits, and he will serve you from the joint,ad libitum, as he proudly remarks. When next you go to London, go to Simpson’s, 103 Strand. You will be sure to meet a few London notabilities, you will be sure of a good dinner, and last, but by no means least, you will see the polite and dignified Mr. Charles Flowerdew. Managing director, E. W. Cathie.