Let us first see what were the “inns” which clustered here in such profusion that a solemn topographer should have thought it necessary to specifically mention them. The names of some of them have survived, and I find, appropriately enough, “The Nag’s Head,” “The White Horse,” “The Black Horse,” and “The Cock,” as well as “The Phœnix” (that perennial fowl), “The Unicorn” (that hardly less ubiquitous animal), and “The Blue Posts,” one of the best known of them all. If we look at a plan of this locality, dated 1755, we shall see that the west side of the street was riddled with small alleys or yards, some of which were part and parcel of the taverns that once congregated here. Thus, nearly at the bottom, on the site of the Carlton Hotel, was Phœnix Inn Yard; next to it, where His Majesty’s Theatre now stands, the yard of “The White Horse”; “The Cock” Yard was about half-way up, and “The Nag’s Head” Yard next it. At the back of these, approached from Pall Mall by two streets, known as St. Alban’s, and Market Streets, was the St. James’s Market itself, since replaced by an extension of Regent Street and Waterloo Place. “Black Horse” Yard was nearly at the top of the Haymarket, where the continuation of Jermyn Street now runs, and practically on the site of the Piccadilly Station of the Tube Railway; while where Charles Street crosses the Haymarket on its western side was formerly a small passage, known as Six Bell Alley. “The Blue Posts” Tavern was at No. 59, and was long a favourite resort. Otway mentions it in one of his plays; so does Bishop Cartwright in his diary; and in contemporary newspapers are accounts of those affrays which so frequently disturbed the harmony of these places of recreation. “The Cock” was probably identical with the tavern bearing this sign in Suffolk Street close by, which Pepys mentions, and which it is likely had something to do with the origin of the name of the adjacent Cockspur Street; while the other taverns must have often afforded refreshment to the various notable people, who once resided in the Haymarket. One of the greatest of these, who we know loved to take his ease at his inn, was Addison, who, while lodging in an attic over a small shop here, wrote “The Campaign,” at the request of the Government. One day, in after years, a little deformed man with eloquent eyes, fired with enthusiasm, brought a friend to this same attic, and mounting the three pair of stairs, opened the door of the small room, and exclaimed, “In this garret Addison wrote his ‘Campaign’”--it was Pope pointing out the workshop of genius to Harte.