The metropolis is in recess. Most of the many millions are in bed. For night owls with no instinct for clubbing or for drinking, this is a sublime hour for exploring the City. And I use the word with the capital ‘C’. The City of London, or the Square Mile, is among the most densely packed areas of town during the day, and long into the evening. Its medieval streets can barely contain the throng of office workers who must reach their desks, wine bars and sushi shops. In the early hours of the morning, everything is different. The silence can startle. These roads are the oldest in London, where remnants of the Roman city rub shoulders with the medieval, Georgian, Victorian and modern. An ancient church may parley with a skyscraper. In both senses of the superlative, the City holds the richest concentration of architecture in London. At night, it looks its best.
Start at Chancery Lane tube station; like many stations this is now open all night on Fridays and Saturdays. You are at the very western part of the Square Mile, as suggested by the two imposing dragon sculptures guarding the roadway. As we head east, High Holborn slopes downward slightly into the ancient valley of the River Fleet, long ago converted into a sewer. The valley becomes even more obvious once on Holborn Viaduct, a Victorian intervention to span the chasm. Ahead lie the silhouettes of St Sepulchre’s Church and the Lady Justice-topped dome of the Old Bailey, on the site of the notorious Newgate Prison. These landmarks are in ancient concord. A handbell, still kept in the church, would be rung outside the condemned criminal’s cell at midnight before an execution.
Head south, down the road known as Old Bailey, until you reach Ludgate Hill. In doing so, you follow the Roman and medieval city walls, whose remnants still linger beneath the buildings on your left. Glance up Ludgate to see the famous dome of St Paul’s, gloriously illuminated yet recalling that dreadful night in 1940 when every street around the cathedral blazed with the firebombs of the Blitz. Cross, and duck down Pageantmaster Court. Here, the City is at its quietest, as we explore some of the capital’s most ancient streets. Follow the road round to the left and on to Carter Lane. This ranks among the most atmospheric parts of the city, with a wide variety of architecture crowding in over the street. Shakespeare lived hereabouts, close to the site of the Cock Tavern. Exchanges and conversations overheard on these byways must have informed his writing.
Halfway down Carter Lane, look out for the unusual Venetian-style building on the left. This is surely London’s most attractive youth hostel: hopefully, they’re all asleep by this time. Directly opposite is the surreally named Wardrobe Place. It takes its name from the King’s Wardrobe, the department of the Royal Household concerned with the monarch’s clothing, which was formerly based here. Today, the cul-de-sac contains serviced apartments, which I’m told are cheaper to hire than hotel rooms in this area. Carter Lane soon opens out into St Paul’s Churchyard, where the cathedral dominates the view. Few people know this, but that mighty dome is merely a bauble. The weight of the lantern structure on top is supported by two hidden inner-domes, while the familiar profile is just for show. Even less well known, the entire hemisphere was lifted up from the body of the cathedral by a bomb blast one night in 1940. It only moved upwards a fraction of an inch, but a hairline crack can still be seen (by those with privileged access) around the dome’s perimeter.
As St Paul’s Churchyard debouches into Cannon Street, look out for the imposing red-brick building on your right. This is Bracken House, a post-war development notable for its arcane zodiacal clock, which features Winston Churchill’s face as a centrepiece. It is, without question, one of the loopiest architectural features in London.
We’re in the heart of the City now, and any road you care to follow would offer a layer cake of historical associations and anecdotes. Head, instead, for the merciless silhouette of One New Change, an angular glass shopping centre said to be inspired by the profile of a stealth ship. It doesn’t work, even at night. The building is indisputably ugly and obtrudes on the cathedral like a slug devouring a macaron. Tiptoe past its southern flank, along Watling Street, a rare road alignment in the City that has existed since Roman times. Part of the way down, head north along Bow Lane, a remarkable network of closely drawn alleys that give a flavour of the medieval city that was destroyed in the Great Fire. Some are dead ends, others lead through – enjoy the exploration.
You should eventually emerge beneath St Mary-le-Bow, a Christopher Wren church that was largely demolished by the Blitz, but has since been seamlessly rebuilt. This houses the famous ‘bow bells’ from which traditional Cockneys are aurally judged. Its tintinnabulation can be heard today, and true Cockneys are born, still within earshot, at nearby St Bart’s. Cheapside derives its name from the Old English chepe, meaning market. This was the Oxford Street of medieval times. Subsidiary roads like Bread Street, Milk Street and Poultry hint further at this commercial past, partially restored (albeit in a way that would have boggled 13th-century shoppers) by the One New Change complex and other recent mixed-use developments.
Cheapside slopes gently down into the valley of the now-buried River Walbrook, where we reach the familiar junction of Bank station. The unholy trinity of politics, money and commerce are represented by Mansion House, the Bank of England and the Royal Exchange (itself now a luxury shopping and dining centre). This grand imperial statement offers a world-famous view of the capital to rival Piccadilly Circus, but just a road or two over and we can slip into another London. Work your way over the junction to Lombard Street, one of the few streets in the capital to have retained the ancient tradition of hanging street signs. Look out for the grasshopper sign. This is the sigil of Thomas Gresham, founder of the original Royal Exchange.
We’re now approaching the greatest warren of alleyways in London. Duck into Change Alley – a favoured stopping point for tour guides who like to make stories up about the enigmatic name… it’s another reference to the Royal Exchange. I’m not going to guide you through these passages – I’m not sure I could – but take your time wandering around looking at the various plaques and commemorations. You might even find another grasshopper or two, as well as the original London coffee house. Finish off beside St Michael Cornhill, noting its ornate Gothic doorway. The next alley along is St Peter’s Alley. Look up, and if the moon is bright enough you should see one of the most menacing sights in the City: a trio of red she-devils peering down at passers-by. Legend has it that they were erected by the building’s owners in retaliation against the church, which had obstructed development of the building. Whatever their origins, the devils prove that it always pays to look up when walking around the City.
On that spooky note, you’re now just a five minute walk away from an all-night café in Liverpool Street. The next hour awaits...