Ep 37 Soho Pub Crawl Pt 3 - The Leicester Arms, The Glassblower, The Crown, The Queen's Head, The Lyric Tavern, The Saint James Tavern

In this episode, our third in Soho, we explore pubs on the west edge: Leicester Arms, Glassblower, The Queens Head, The Crown, The Lyric and The St. James 

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Google map with pubs covered in previous episodes pinned, courtesy of Andy Meddick:

https://www.google.com/maps/d/u/4/edit?mid=12c-WKa3XiT1qTLydK8psZocUR7Y_Wes&usp=sharing

Or TinyURL: https://tinyurl.com/bduca5dv

The following resources are referenced or quoted frequently in these episodes:

• Ted Bruning  -- Historic Pubs of London (ISBN 978-0658005022) and London By Pub (ISBN 978-0658005022)
• Wikipedia
• https://londonspubswherehistoryreallyhappened.wordpress.com/  by Ann Laffeaty 
• Pubwiki.co.uk

Additionally, the  following resource(s) were used / quoted in this episode:

Leicester Arms & The Glass Blower

https://www.closedpubs.co.uk/london/wc2_coventgarden_leicester.html

https://www.rootschat.com/forum/index.php?topic=570689.0

https://camra.org.uk/pubs/glassblower-london-128981

https://whatpub.com/pubs/WLD/16080/leicester-arms-london

The Crown and The Queens Head

https://alondoninheritance.com/londonpubs/soho-pubs-part-1/#:~:text=There%20is%20some%20interesting%20history,18th%20century%2C%20the%20Hickford%20Rooms.

https://london.randomness.org.uk/wiki.cgi?Queen%27s_Head,_W1D_7HN

Pubnames.co.uk & pubsgalore.co.uk

The Lyric and The St James

https://whatpub.com/pubs/WLD/16487/lyric-london

https://pubsandbeer.co.uk/index.php?ID=P&pub=3653&O=P

https://londonist.com/pubs/pubs/pubs/the-lyric

https://www.pubsmiths.co.uk/st-james-tavern-piccadilly

James Potts & Sam Cullen, What’s in a London Pub Name? (ISBN 9781854144713)

Intro Music:  Vivaldi - Spring Allegro by John Harrison w/ the Wichita State University Chamber Orch.

Photo:  Ewan Munro

Website: https://historiclondonpubcast.com/

E-mail: hosteric@historiclondonpubcast.com

Transcript

Welcome to this episode of The Historic London Pubcast. I'm Eric Blair, and I'd like to take you on a journey through the rich history of London's iconic pubs. My goal is to share with you my passion for the great old pubs of London. I want to give you some facts to help you appreciate the history of these hallowed establishments mixed in with some fun stories that make it all go down as smooth as a well poured pint.

Before we start, though, I would like to mention that we have some exciting improvements coming to our Pubcast. I'll give you a brief rundown at the end, so please stay with us a bit after the last pub. Okay, let's get going. Today we are back in Soho for the third episode in this district. Our last Episode, Mayfair Three, covered the easternmost area of that district.

So, let's jump across Oxford Street, the dividing line, and check out some pubs in the western side of Soho. Lots of pubs here, so we won't have to walk much. Incredibly, about five-minutes from the first pub to the last. 

Let's start with The Leicester Arms on Glasshouse Street. This tavern was first licensed in 1725, and although it has stood in the same place for 300 years, it has changed names and street addresses over the years. See! Wait in one spot long enough and anything can happen. It started out named The Harp, then changed to The Harp and Crown and then Cambridge Stores. In 1927 it took the name Leicester Lounge, but by 1935 today's The Leicester Arms was firmly in place. It was at the corner of Glasshouse Street and Warwick Street, and until around 1900 was said to be at 50 Warwick Street, but after that its location is today's 44 Glasshouse Street.

One of the intermediate names, Cambridge Stores, likely indicated that it was licensed to sell alcohol for takeaway. This was an interesting point in the long history of British regulation of alcohol. In 1860, reforms in the laws championed by William Gladstone, then the Chancellor of the Exchequer, reduced duties on wine and facilitated the growth of wine merchants, grocers and even pubs selling for takeaway.

It was thought that wine would be a healthier alternative form of alcohol consumption. A consolidation of the licensing laws in 1872 put stricter controls on operating hours and the conduct of licensed premises, and formally recognized licenses that permitted takeaway sales. The intent was to reduce excessive public drinking. 

Okay, back to The Leicester Arms. The pub got a rebuild in the pub construction frenzy period of the 1890s. Today it's a drinking pub with a nice cozy Victorian feel. Single lounge bar on the ground floor and a restaurant function room on the first floor. So, when you are there sipping on a pint, who are your fellow patrons displaced in time? Legend has it that it was none other than Oscar Wilde. Sorry you missed him. Don't be. 

Some say his ghostly presence is still there. Maybe like Dorian Gray. He never ages. Another famous patron was associated with a group that had its inaugural meeting at the pub in the 1840s. The group was, ‘Young England,” and included a man in his 30s that would go on to make a name for himself in British politics - Benjamin Disraeli. Around this time, Disraeli was a man of letters that was making his transition into politics. That road would lead to two stints as Prime Minister for a total of about eight years. He was a Conservative. In other words, a member of The Tory Party, but with his Young England colleagues, he was trying to get the party to adopt more concern for the working class and to promote social reform. Though it fizzled out politically.

Young England shaped the ideological roots of Disraeli's later policies as PM. One more example. How right Pub Blogger Ann Lafferty was when she came up with the title of her site - London's Pubs Where History Really Happened. Okay, before we leave, want to speculate a bit about the origin of the name The Leicester Arms? If you search around, you get offerings that it was a tribute to the city of the same name or to the Earl of Leicester, a noted patron of the Arts – a high credential in Artsy Soho, but don't believe any of that. Thanks to the website closedpubs.co.uk, we find the real story. It starts with the now long-gone pub, The Leicester, which was at the corner of New Coventry and Water Street, one block off Leicester Square.

Now it's not hard to guess how it got its name. Built in 1886, The Leicester was demolished in 1927 to make way for an expansion of a department store, and the license was transferred to the Cambridge Stores on Glass House, about six minutes away. With that, a name change was implemented, first to The Leicester Lounge and finally to the more proper Leicester Arms.

So, as the Leicester fell, another stood up to carry the Leicester flag forward. Inspiring, isn't it? Well, that inspiration carries to the next pub. Let's hope so. It's just across the street, only 100ft away. The Glassblower at 40 to 42 Glasshouse Street. There are sources that say this building was originally connected to The Leicester Arms, and the building served as a workhouse in Victorian times.

They go on to say that the two were separated when an underground line constructed by the cut and cover method, resulted in the street being placed between the two. But this doesn't make sense to me. There are records that clearly show that The Leicester was operating as a pub, going back to before 1800. I think it's a case of not letting facts getting in the way of a good story.

We do know that the building was owned from around 1900 by the Bodega Company, a wine bar chain, and many of its outlets were simply called The Bodega, which was probably the case for this pub. One source takes it back a ways from that. Number 42 was The Hotel de Paris before becoming part of the Bodega Spanish Wine Cellars Company by 1869.

That's probably right. An April 1882 newspaper reported an assault of the Manager by a disgruntled young customer who didn't accept the 10 p.m. closing time. That article mentioned that life as a wine bar had started around 1870. At some point, a transition was made to a pub, likely in the 1950s, and that the name, taken as a tribute to the area's Artisan glass working past. The current pub is standard in architecture and generally pleasing.

CAMRA describes its internals this way. 

“This pub consists of a wedge-shaped room with the bar against the far wall. There's a large liner hanging from the center of the beam ceiling and high tables and chairs. The first-floor dining area has its own bar.” 

Thanks, CAMRA. 

Reviews generally praised the location as a convenient retreat from the more frenetic parts of Soho. So, sit down, take a load off and think about the folks who have passed by this location in the last 300 years, particularly those hard working Glassblowers. Here's another thing to ponder less than 500ft south at 68 Regent Street once stood a very happening place for celebs. What? Where? When? Who, you might ask? Well, it was the Cafe Royal at 68 Regent Street, founded in 1865 by a nearly broke French wine maker with one good idea left to try. By the 1890s, The Cafe Royal had become the place to see and be seen. It remained so for years to come. Its celeb patrons have included Oscar Wilde, Aleister Crowley, Virginia Woolf, D.H. Lawrence, Winston Churchill, Noel Coward, Brigitte Bardo, J. Paul Getty, George Bernard Shaw, Mick Jagger, Elizabeth Taylor, Muhammad Ali, and Diana, Princess of Wales. 

For patron Oscar Wilde, the cafe was the site of a pivotal point in his life. In early 1895, Wilde was at the peak of his fame, dazzling London with his plays, his wit and his charm. But on March 24th at The Cafe Royal, he was given a warning he would sadly ignore.  Over drinks, Frank Harris, an influential Editor man about town and well-connected in literary circles of London, urged Wilde to drop his criminal libel suit against The Marquis of Queensberry, father of Wilde's close companion, Lord Alfred Douglas. Harris sensed the danger that a courtroom battle could expose Wilde to public ruin. Wilde, full of confidence, chose to press ahead - a decision that would soon unravel his career, his freedom and his place in society. The Cafe Royal, so often the stage for Wilde’s glittering conversation became instead the backdrop to one of the great ‘what ifs’ of literary history.

In 2008, The Cafe Royal was closed and there was a transformation to The Hotel Cafe Royal, a 159-room high-end hotel. This was all done while still conforming to the original cafe building's Grade II protection status. We can only wonder what Oscar would say about it, but I'm too chicken to ask his supposed ghost over at The Leicester Arms.

All done with your pint? Okay, let's move on to the next one, The Crown only one-minute away. We will be walking on Brewer Street to Number 64. One guess how the street got its name? Yes, at one time there was not just one, but two breweries operating down here. But the pub's biggest claim to fame is not related to brewing, but rather to classical music. It is located on the site of The Hickford’s Room. Hickord’s Long Room was a public concert room in London which ran from 1713 until 1787. It has been said that most of the great performers, both vocal and instrumental, who visited England, gave their concerts there. Originally established over near Haymarket, it was a well-attended venue by the time it relocated to 64 Brewer Street, but apparently there wasn't a sold-out crowd on June 5th, 1765. That was when two child prodigies played there - Wolfgang Mozart, aged eight, and his 13-year-old sister. 

alondoninheritance.com fills us in a bit, first quoting from an article published in 1906 that seems to know some details of a show that happened 140 years before it was written. 

“Two shadows, brother and sister play the harpsichord. The boy is eight years old, and the girl 13, a demure, motherly child, her hair crowned by a mop cap. The boy's playing is phenomenal, and he bids fair to rival Mr. Handel in composition. But the scanty audience is not interested. It cares no longer for these two children, who only a year ago, or the spoiled darlings of the whole town.”

Too bad attendance at the show was like, ‘Maybe they should have booked them as the warmup act?’ Hickford's Room lasted until 1787, but the building stayed on long after that. alondoninheritance.com continues.

“The hall went through a number of changes and owners and used, but survived until 1934, when it was demolished to make way for an annex of the Regent Palace Hotel. If the hall lasted until 1934, it obviously raises the question how can the pub be on the site? As far as I can tell, the house and the main entrance to the hall was on the site of The Crown, and the hall was near the rear of The Crown. The earliest references to The Crown that I can find are from the years around 1830, so I suspect that the house and entrance to the hall demolished, and The Crown built, with the hall surviving just behind the pub until demolition in 1934.”

Thank you alondoninheritance.com. Your conclusions sound very reasonable. This is another case of a historic pub that has a Victorian look to it but doesn't really have many distinctive or unique features. Save one the aforementioned link to Mozart. It's a in Nicholson's pub so you can expect it to be well run. Pop in and hoist one to young Wolfie. He certainly learned how to pack them in since he played here. 

Okay, up for another one-minute walk? This time over to 15 Denman Street and The Queen's Head. Does the name sound familiar? According to an analysis done in 2019, there were about 16 pubs named The Queen's Head in Greater London, making it one of the more common pub names in the city.

Across the entire United Kingdom, the number is significantly higher. Almost 200 pubs use Queen's Head in some fashion, and another 60 UK pubs are named The Queen's Arms. I know you, dear Listeners out there, are worried where this anatomical naming trend is going? Queen's Head, Queen's Arms. What's next? Relax - that's where it ends! 

london.randomness.org.uk gives us the best introduction to the pub today,

“The Queen's Head is a small pub just off Piccadilly Circus, apparently free house and having a change of management around the start of 2012. This is an odd little site, squeezed in between a theater and a curry house, and opposite another pub. Inside it's long and thin, with two floors, 3 or 4 small two-person tables fit in between pillars to the rear on the ground floor. The decor, however, still harks back to an older era of pubs with frosted glass and wooden fittings.”

Thanks london.randomness.org.uk 

The pub claims to go back to 1736. There are clear records that show it was around in the 1830s, so I'll go with what they say that it started 100 years back from that. One source says that its current fitting dates to a rebuild done in 1928. Apparently, it was part of the scruffy Murphys Pub Group for a while, taking that name but emerging free at last as an independent pub and took back its original name. Congratulations! Good move. 

Somehow The Queen's Headis the pub associated with a distasteful ‘sport’ of the Victorian era - Rat Baiting. This blood sport was carried out at numerous locations, mainly pubs in the more rough and tumble part of town, but The Queen's Head drew the short straw when it came to distancing its history from this unpleasant practice. Blood Sports, where dogs were pitted against other animals while humans watched, drank and wagered, were long part of what passes for entertainment in London's more down and dirty scene. South of the river and east a bit, Southwark was an area well known for this in the 16 and 1700s, but by the 1830s the tide was turning against blood sports in Britain.

Bear baiting, bull bating, and even cockfighting, all were getting the official boot from polite society. But rats, well, rats were still fair game. Nobody was shedding tears for a rat. And so, while the big beasts and the feathered friends were spared, a whole new sport sprang up in the pubs and back alleys of London. Rat Baiting. 

The rules were simple enough. A pit would be set up in a pub or yard, usually low walled circle or sunken box. A set number of rats were released inside, sometimes a few dozen, sometimes 100, the number often tied to the weight of the canine adversary. Then the dog was let loose to do its work. Bets were placed, drinks were poured, and the crowd roared as man's best friend raced to kill as many rats as possible in the shortest time.

It was grisly business, yes, but in the often-hard scrabble world of Victorian London, it was also seen as a test of grit, both for the dogs and the men who bred and backed them. Like most spectacles passing as sports, the rat baiting world had its stars. Wiki provides a list of four legged legends, but if someone stops you at the mall today and ask you to name a human rat baiting superstar of Victorian London, I would suggest you reply, “Jack Black.” He referred to himself as, “Rat Catcher to Her Majesty,” and just to be clear, he also served as a moral destroyer because everyone hated rats. Everyone loved Jack, and he leaned into it with his gaudy waistcoats and a knack for self-promotion. Jack wasn't just a hunter of vermin. He was a showman. He bred his own line of fierce little Rat Terriers and sometimes staged impromptu rat baiting matches as a bit of advertisement.

His flair made him a minor celebrity in London, and he moved easily between the city's grimiest pubs and grandest drawing rooms. But Jack's contributions were not just anti rats. His sales of rats as pets during the 1840s 1860s play a role in the rat’s domestication, and widespread acceptance as a pet. He bred many different colors of rats, which became known as fancy rats.  Fab, you might say I think not! The National Mouse Club was founded in 1895 and is still going strong today. There was even an offshoot group established in 1976, The National Fancy Rat Society. What's going on? These rat clubs are breeding like… Well, we better move on now. Don't let any of this put you off today's pub. All that rat baiting stuff went away about 150 years ago.

The current pub gets good reviews. Now, I don't remember if I popped in here or not, but from all I can see from the poking around I've done for this episode, it appears to be a nice island of sanity in the busy city, perhaps providing that all too rare experience in central London. The feel of a local in the midst of the hustle and bustle. 

Off again now, two minutes away to 37 Great Windmill Street. This is The Lyric Tavern pub, which he tells us that this pub is no spring chicken. By 1739 there were two separate pubs present here - The Ham and The Windmill. By 1811 the two had merged to become The Ham and Windmill. The name was changed to The Lyric Tavern in 1890, and the pub was rebuilt to its current form in 1906. The name came from the nearby West End Theater,which had opened two years earlier. CAMRA’s descriptions typically don't hand out compliments, but I think this one might count as an exception, albeit kind of dryly. See what you think. 

“Small pub just off Shaftesbury Avenue. Very popular with the local trade. Bay fronted with the tile paneled interior. It was originally two adjacent taverns, The windmill and The Ham, which were merged in the mid-18th Century to form The Windmill and Ham. The pub was renamed in 1890 and rebuilt 16 years later. This is an unusually authentic real pub for one so close to the traditional heart of London and Piccadilly Circus and for all beer drinkers, casual fans or not. There are often some unusual beers to be found and enjoyed. One source reports this pub's near-death experience. The pub closed in 2007 and was boarded up for a period but reopened in April of 2013.”

Yay! From the ashes the phoenix rises. All reviews loved the beer selection. Some even likened it to The Harp of Leicester Square. High praise indeed. As you might expect, londonist has a good turn of phrase on this one,

“Thank the hop god for The Lyric. It looks and feels like a typical Soho boozer. Small, dark, bit cramped. A few period features, such as glazed tiles on the entrance, but the bar stocked the best range of beer in the area.”

Okay. Take in a good craft beer and then let's head back to the street. It's Windmill Street, so where's the windmill? Well, you just missed it. It was around in 1585 but had to be demolished in the 1690s, but it did give the street a really snappy name. The street has a history of containing some good clubs and music venues, maybe the most notable being Club 11, which started in 1948 and was on the street for a couple of years before moving over to Carnaby Street. It's worth mentioning because it was the first modern jazz club for London musicians providing regular pay.

Many of these players had been influenced by hearing early bebop pioneers such as Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie. During New York stopovers, they performed as ship musicians on the Atlantic going liners. But it was Club 11 that gave UK audiences the first chance to hear the new bebop music. Formation of Club 11 is viewed as one of the most important milestones in the development of modern jazz in postwar Britain.

Sadly, Club 11 closed after a few months on Carnaby Street due to a drug raid. Hey, these were jazz musicians after all, but there's one more significant point about the area near The Lyric. Just across the way from The Lyric, on the opposite corner of Great Windmill Street once stood another drinking establishment, long since vanished, called The Red Lion.

Now, this wasn't just any old pub. Back in November of 1847, a rather serious-minded group called The Communist League gathered in its upstairs room. Among them were two names of note - Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels. Over pints and politics, they were handed a task to write a pamphlet that would spell out the league's radical new ideas. What came of it? Nothing less than The Communist Manifesto. A slim but fiery little tract that would go on to stir revolutions and shake empires. I remember reading The Manifesto myself a few years ago, and being surprised at just how radical, and I guess you could say bombastic it really was. It's a pamphlet, after all, so it doesn't waste time with niceties. It paints history as a grand clash between oppressors and oppressed, and calls quite plainly for workers to rise up, seize the means of production and tear down the old order, private property, class divisions, and even the state itself. Marx and Engels wanted the whole lot gone - not exactly a modest little reform plan. After being charged with the writing, Marx headed back to Europe, first Brussels, where he finished The Manifesto, then Germany, where he tried to run a left-wing newspaper.

Within a year, he'd been kicked out of Germany, booted from France and finally landed back in Britain, where, despite his radicalism, he was allowed to stay. I've always thought that Britain doesn't get enough credit for that. When the rest of Europe was showing Marx the door, Britain passed the free speech test. It let him rail, rant and scribble away for the rest of his life, mostly unbothered, right here on London streets.

Heck, he even got his own desk at The British Library. Good news. Despite Marx and Engels suggestions, pubs have not been nationalized. So, let's celebrate by heading out to one more. Just a few numbers down. 45 Great Windmill, The Saint James Tavern. This pub is operated by Pubsmiths, who self-described as a, “Small batch of signature pubs.” Their website does the best history intro of the lot,

“A pub has stood on this site since 1733. Originally called The Catherine’s Wheel, it became St James Tavern when the current building, including its specially designed tiles, was erected in 1896. Frequented by celebrities, such as Charles Dickens and Dick Turpin, it still attracts famous names from nearby theatres. You never know who might be sitting behind you as you enjoy a quiet drink.”

Thank you, Pubsmiths. Nice write-up.

Catherine's Wheel, the old name was not a tribute to the Saint like you might think. It most probably referred to the medieval torture and execution device called that. Or alternately, it was called The Breaking Wheel. It was used largely in Europe, mostly for severe criminals like murderers or robbers. It's interesting that Highwayman Dick Turpin would even be thought to have drank there, but I think we can only say that that's just legend. So maybe the name did scare him away. The name that replaced Catherine's Wheel, Saint James is a better name, I think. Less grim. This name referred to the parish the pub was in, and was taken after the rebuild of 1896. The result of the rebuilding was a handsome three-storey pub with ornamental red brick and terracotta facade, typical of the 1890s. The rebuild also included specially commissioned interior decor. Most famously a set of tile panels by Daltons of Lambeth depicting scenes from Shakespeare. These glazed tile murals featured characters like Falstaff and also include motifs of hops and grape vines still adoring the walls over a century later. They are a rare surviving example of Victorian Pub Art. The guy that gets credit for this fine rebuild is noted Pub Architect William Mortimer Bruton.

Bruton was a late Victorian Designer who helped transform the image of London pub from a rowdy gin shop to a respectable meeting place. His work had a kind of theatrical elegance, elaborate brickwork, sculpted wood and decorative tiles that wouldn't look out of place in a music hall. In fact, he worked on those two, and just a few streets away was another one of his creations, The Fitzroy Tavern, which was done up in the 1880s.

But The Fitz has had to redos since. So, we are lucky to have Bruton's works arriving at the Saint James. Bruton was a busy guy. He designed The King's Head pub near Wimbledon, (described by CAMRA as, “A historic pub interior of national importance”), The Princess Victoria in Shepherd's Bush and the remodeling of The Alhambra Theater in Leicester Square.

What makes Bruton especially fascinating, and more than a little tragic, is that while he was designing some of London's finest drinking establishments, he was quietly unraveling in his own private life. His wife, Ada eventually filed for divorce, citing his excessive drinking and violent behavior. The case was withdrawn, but the damage had been done. They never lived together again.

It's one of those historical ironies that sticks with you a man who made its mark creating places for sociable drinking, undone by alcohol himself. A cautionary tale. So, if you want to fill your pint with something unleaded at the end of our crawl today, feel free. It might be a way of conveying to the Architect we both appreciate his work and have learned from his story.

That brings us to the end of our third episode on Soho. There's still plenty more great pubs to explore in Soho, so we'll definitely be back, but not in the very next episode. We'll be applying a little geo diversity with our next pub group selection. Now, before we wrap, I want to quickly share some exciting updates to The Historic London Podcast.

First, we have a brand-new website! You'll find it at historiclondonpubcast.com. It is your one stop shop for all of our episodes, plus the interactive pub map we've had for the last several weeks. Click on any pen and you'll get details about the pub and which episode we covered it in. You can even sort episodes by borough, tube station and other handy categories.

Perfect for planning your next London pub trip. We also want the website to be a place for you to connect with us. We hope you'll find it an easy way to send us your ideas, comments, and feedback. And don't miss the new Pub Stories section. Short, tasty pub tidbits to get you in the mood for an episode or two.

Second, if you listen to us on your favorite podcast app, nothing is changing. Except we've got a new, snappier logo. While you're there, why not hit subscribe? It will let you know when a new episode is available. And speaking of that, we're now on a regular schedule, a new episode every other Monday. Mondays are tough enough. Let's soften the blow with a visit to a few historic pubs and the pub stories.

Tidbits will come out weekly to keep you going between episodes. Lastly, we've upgraded our presence on Facebook,  X, which was Twitter, and YouTube. That's where you'll find new pub stories, post and episode announcements. It's another easy way to send us your thoughts and recommend us to your friends. We hope these changes make it even more fun and easy to share our enthusiasm for these wonderful old pubs.

Thanks for being part of the journey and we'll see you at the next pub, Cheers!