Bovril, black tie & the pen is mightier than the sword

London calling.

London Walks connecting.

This… is London.

This is London Walks.

Streets ahead.

Story time. History time.

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It’s Sunday, May 25th, 2025. And a very warm welcome to you, London Walkers. Come in, make yourself comfortable, gather round the hearth. Yes, that’s right, that’s a new salutation of sorts. And it pleases me no end. I’ve just found out that the root of of the word focus is the Latin word for hearth. It’s made my day, finding that out. Because, after all, what do we do on a London Walk – and indeed on this podcast – we focus on this, that, and the other. On a London Walk it’s probably 40 or 50 stops to look at – to focus on – this house or that square or this alleyway that’s just up ahead or that church spire or this piece of street furniture or the way this series of terraced houses is like so many Russian dolls, descending to the left, each one a tiny bit smaller than its neighbour or this pond on Hampstead Heath or what Prince Albert is holding in his hand there in the centre of the Albert Memorial or that roofline or this unique crosswalk – with it’s blue and white underfoot inlays there’s no other crosswalk like it in the world  – or the way the front of this grandest of shops is fitted to the curvature of the High Street and so on. And if the word focus – which is what we’re doing – comes from the word hearth, and what do you get from a hearth, you get light and warmth and fellowship, well, how perfect is that. That’s what we get on a London Walk. And, I hope, on this podcast. So, yes, gather round the hearth. There’s some warmth and light here. And, yes, some fellowship. What’s more, I’m going to start a new occasional series with this episode of London Calling. It’s me, David, getting back to what for me is ground zero. English Literature. Well, English Literature and London. And that of course is ab ovo for me. I’m in this country because of English Literature. Came over to do – and did do – a PhD on Dickens. And what followed from that, so quickly, was my falling in love with London. And being fascinated by it. It’s some famous lines from Shakespeare that best sum up how I feel about London. It’s what Enobarbus in Antony & Cleopatra says about the Egyptian Queen: “Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale her infinite variety.”  Yes, it’s Enobarbus talking about Cleopatra but it sums up perfectly how I feel about London. London is my Cleopatra.

And the other fitment to this new occasional series is I’ve always been fascinated by the sense of place you get in London. Finding out, oh, so this is where that happened, I find that deeply satisfying. And the other thing I’m going to do in this occasional series is make these pieces date-specific. And – because it’s English Literature  – by definition writing at its best – each episode is going to end with a flambé dish. A really fine poem or passage by the author in question.

So let’s get started with a tracer. It’s May 25th. For our purposes May 25th, 1803. And we’re at 31 Baker Street. Where a baby boy has just come into the world. Aside here, I hope some, maybe all of you can see how deeply satisfying this is. Finding out something like this changes the way you see that block of Baker Street. Maybe the house itself. I’ll have to check to see if the original house is still there. Anyway, yes, a baby has just been born at 31 Baker Street on this day in 1803. That baby boy was Edward George Earle Lytton Bulwer Lytton, the first Baron Lytton. Known today as Bulwer Lytton. Though he’s hardly known at all today. But the astonishing thing is, in his day he was one of the brightest stars in the literary firmament.  In the words of his biographer, Andrew Brown, “during his lifetime Bulwer-Lytton was outsold only by Dickens, and only Dickens was more widely translated. For thirty years after his death he remained a pillar of the literary establishment; besides innumerable cheap reprints, no fewer than twenty-five multi-volume collections of his complete novels were issued in Britain and America between 1875 and 1900.”

In 1857 W. H. Smith himself reported that Bulwer-Lytton was the most requested author at his station bookstalls.

Andrew Brown goes on to say, “when Bulwer Lytton ceased to appeal to the common reader his reputation sank almost without trace. Nevertheless, his historical significance was immense, for he epitomized that category of writers who, in his own words:

‘form a link in the great chain of a nation’s authors, which may be afterwards forgotten by the superficial, but without which the chain would be incomplete. And thus if not first-rate for all time, they have been first-rate in their own day.’”

But here’s the thing, when you get right down to it, Bulwer-Lytton’s day is our day. He’s like Banquo’s ghost. We may not realise it but he’s with us, he’s at the party.

Ever use – or hear – the immortal words, “the pen is mightier than the sword.” Bulwer Lytton wrote those words.

Or his now-forgotten novel, Pelham or The Adventures of a Gentleman. In its day it was a huge best seller. George IV ordered several copies so the book would be there in each of his residences.

The main character, Henry Pelham, is arguably the most consummate dandy in English literature. But here’s the takeaway. Henry Pelham’s affectation for wearing black for dinner set a fashion for evening dress that’s still very much with us today. When I put on my black tie and dinner jacket the other night for that knees-up at Cutler’s Hall, it was Bulwer Lytton who dressed me.

And if you’ve got a taste for Bovril it’s the ghost of Bulwer Lytton who’s right there beside you.

His novel The Coming Race was one of the earliest examples of English science fiction. In it we meet a subterranean people who whose extraordinary technological and telekinetic power derives from their control of a mysterious energy called vril.

The novel was a runaway success. Eight editions in eighteen months. Everybody was reading it, talking about it. And sure enough the word vril entered the language. It was the word for a strength-giving elixir. So sure enough, the name of the famous beef extract product Bovril is a composite of ‘bovine’ and ‘vril’. Bovril.

Well, one could go on. Bulwer Lytton is worth getting to know. His was an extraordinary life. And we meet up with him again and again in swanky London. We can plant a ‘Bulwer Lytton lived here’ flag at 36 Hertford Street, just off Park Lane. And another one at the Albany, the exclusive gentlemen’s apartments there on Piccadilly. And sure enough he’s buried in Westminster Abbey. But not where you’d expect, not in Poets’ Corner. He’s in St Edmund’s Chapel, near Sir Humphrey Bourgchier, a knight who was killed at the battle of Barnet and who appear in one of Lytton’s romances.

There was a lot of drama in Bulwer Lytton’s life. So maybe it should come as no surprise that the same could be said for his death. Or at least his interment in Westminster Abbey. The great Victorian Dean of Westminster, Dean Stanley, was reluctant to give consent to Bulwer Lytton’s burial in the Abbey. But Charles Dickens – who died three years before Bulwer-Lytton – had been his good friend. And Dickens’s close friend John Forster turned the screws on Dean Stanley. Forster said if a man like Lord Lytton was not buried in the Abbey, he could not see on what ground anyone else should be included. Brought round, Dean Stanley said, “this was the funeral which was at the extremest verge of what ought to be allowed. His great European reputation, his combination of public office and literature and the variety of his attainments, appeared to me to justify what any point taken singly could not have procured.

The body of the inscription on the gravestone reads: Member of Parliament for St Ives and for Lincoln. Baronet of the United Kingdom. Knight of the Shire for the county of Hertford. One of Her Majesty’s principal Secretaries of State. Knight Grand Cross of St Michael and St George. Baron Lytton of Knebworth. Laborious and distinguished in all fields of intellectual activity indefatigable and ardent in the cultivation and love of letters his genius as an author was displayed in the most varied forms which have connected indissolubly with every department of the literature of his time the name of Edward Bulwer Lytton.

Ok, here’s the flambé.

It’s Bulwer-Lytton’s poem The Chess Board

My little love, do you remember,

Ere we were grown so sadly wise,

Those evenings in the bleak December,

Curtained warm from the snowy weather,

When you and I played chess together.

Checkmated by each other’s eyes?

Ah! still I see your soft white hand

Hovering warm o’er Queen or Knight;

Brave Pawns in valiant battle stand;

The double Castles guard the wings;

The Bishop, bent on distant things,

Moves, sliding, through the fight.

Our fingers touch; our glances meet,

And falter; falls your golden hair

Against my cheek; your bosom sweet

Is heaving. Down the field, your Queen

Rides slow, her soldiery all between,

And checks me unaware.

Ah me! the little battle’s done:

Dispersed is all its chivalry.

Full many a move, since then, have we

‘Mid Life’s perplexing chequers made,

And many a game with Fortune played;–

What is it we have won?

This, this at least,–if this alone:

That never, never, never more,

As in those old still nights of yore

(Ere we were grown so sadly wise),

Can you and I shut out the skies,

Shut out the world and wintry weather,

And, eyes exchanging warmth with eyes,

Play chess, as then we played together!

And c’est tout. Except to wish a very happy 25th birthday to walker Matthew, from New York City.

You’ve been listening to This… is London, the London Walks podcast. Emanating from www.walks.com –

home of London Walks,

London’s signature walking tour company.

London’s local, time-honoured, fiercely independent, family-owned, just-the-right-size walking tour company.

And as long as we’re at it, London’s multi-award-winning walking tour company. Indeed, London’s only award-winning walking tour company.

And here’s the secret: London Walks is essentially run as a guides’ cooperative.

That’s the key to everything.

It’s the reason we’re able to attract and keep the best guides in London. You can get schlubbers to do this for £20 a walk. But you cannot get world-class guides – let alone accomplished professionals.

It’s not rocket science: you get what you pay for.

And just as surely, you also get what you don’t pay for.

Back in 1968 when we got started we quickly came to a fork in the road. We had to answer a searching question: Do we want to make the most money? Or do we want to be the best walking tour company in the world?

You want to make the most money you go the schlubbers route. You want to be the best walking tour company in the world you do whatever you have to do

to attract and keep the best guides in London –

you want them guiding for you, not for somebody else.

Bears repeating:

the way we’re structured – a guides’ cooperative –

is the key to the whole thing.

It’s the reason for all those awards, it’s the reason people who know go with London Walks, it’s the reason we’ve got a big following, a lively, loyal, discerning following – quality attracts quality.

It’s the reason we’re able – uniquely – to front our walks with accomplished, in many cases distinguished professionals:

By way of example, Stewart Purvis, the former Editor

(and subsequently CEO) of Independent Television News.

And Lisa Honan, who had a distinguished career as a diplomat (Lisa was the Governor of St Helena, the island where Napoleon breathed his last and, some say, had his penis amputated – Napoleon didn’t feel a thing – if thing’s the mot juste – he was dead.)

Stewart and Lisa – both of them CBEs – are just a couple of our headline acts.

Or take our Ripper Walk. It’s the creation of the world’s leading expert on Jack the Ripper, Donald Rumbelow, the author of the definitive book on the subject.  Britain’s most distinguished crime historian, Donald is, in the words of The Jack the Ripper A to Z, “internationally recognised as the leading authority on Jack the Ripper.” Donald’s emeritus now but he’s still the guiding light on our Ripper Walk. He curates the walk. He trains up and mentors our Ripper Walk guides. Fields any and all questions they throw at him.

The London Walks Aristocracy of Talent – its All-Star Team of Guides – includes a former London Mayor. It includes the former Chief Music Critic for the Evening Standard. It includes the Chair of the Association of Professional Tour Guides. And the former chair of the Guild of Guides.

It includes barristers, doctors, geologists, museum curators, a former London Museum archaeologist, historians,

university professors (one of them a distinguished Cambridge University paleontologist); it includes a criminal defence lawyer, Royal Shakespeare Company and National Theatre actors, a bevy of MVPs, Oscar winners (people who’ve won the big one, the Guide of the Year Award)…

well, you get the idea.

As that travel writer famously put it, “if this were a golf tournament, every name on the Leader Board would be a London Walks guide.”

And as we put it: London Walks Guides make the new familiar

and the familiar new.

And on that agreeable note…

come then, let us go forward together on some great London Walks.

And that’s by way of saying, Good walking and Good Londoning one and all. See ya next time.

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