St. Martin’s Lane is a far more interesting street than might be supposed, being full of strange Hogarthian memories. Bishop Horsley told the antiquary so oddly named “Rainy-day Smith,” that he had often heard his father describe the time when St. Martin’s Church was literally “In the fields,” and when there was a turnpike leading into St. Martin’s Lane. Mr. Smith wrote this over sixty years ago, and there have been enormous changes since then. There are two curious little lanes or passages turning out of it on the right hand as you go up, one of which bears the name of “May’s Buildings, 1739,” in faint characters. This was built by a gentleman of that name, whose house is still to be seen at No. 43, a sausage shop, a striking and elegant piece of brick-work, though unpretending. It was thus that it struck “Rainy-day Smith,” fifty years ago, who was much praised in his day for “his attention to old houses.” He says that Mr. May’s house “consisted of two pilasters supporting a cornice; and it is, in my opinion, one of the _neatest specimens of architectural brick-work in London_. The site of the White Horse livery stables was originally a tea-garden; and south of it was a hop-garden, which still retains that appellation. The extensive premises, No. 60, were formerly held by Chippendale, the most famous upholsterer and cabinet-maker of his day, to whose folio work on household furniture the trade formerly made constant reference. It contains in many instances specimens of the style of furniture so much in vogue in France in the reign of Louis XIV., but which for many years past has been discontinued in England. However, as most fashions come round again, I should not wonder if we were to see the unmeaning scroll and shell-work, with which the furniture of Louis’s reign was so profusely incumbered, revive; when Chippendale’s book will again be sought after with redoubled avidity, and, as many of the copies must have been sold as waste paper, the few remaining will probably bear rather a high price.”[1] Another house that always attracts attention is the one numbered 96, and which deserves notice for its artistic doorway--certainly one of the most effective in London for its flowing style of carving and elegant design. It is now a cloth shop, but Mr. Smith describes it as being in his day “one of the oldest colour-shops in London, and has one of the very few remaining shop-fronts where the shutters slide in grooves. The street-door frame is of the style of Queen Anne, with a spread-eagle, foliage, and flowers, curiously and deeply carved in wood, over the entrance, similar to those remaining in Carey Street and in Great Ormond Street. The late Mr. Powel, the colourman, and family inhabited it; and I have heard him say that _his mother for many years made a pipe of wine from the grapes which grew in their garden, which at that time was nearly one hundred feet in length_, before the smoke of so many surrounding buildings destroyed their growth.