There is much at Baker Street which is interesting to the discerning traveller, some of which we must rush over, other parts of which we shall linger on, partly because they are obscure and concern Watts.
The site of the shop on Baker St is something that gives us a clue to the exact whereabouts of 221b, Baker Street. In one of the stories (I forget which), it is mentioned that Holmes breaks into the upper rooms of 30 Baker Street, in order to stake out his own front door, so as to watch for Moriarty. Alas, the frontage of 30 Baker St is currently covered in scaffolding, and really does not warrant a photograph, and there is, insofar as we know, no extant photograph of J.L. Davenport.
There are few churches, in your intrepid reporter’s humble opinion, more ravishing than Comper’s masterpiece at Clarence Gate: St. Cyrpian. Betjeman’s description is straightforward enough, but one can almost hear the wonder in his voice as he writes the words “Altars, hangings, statues, light fittings, font cover and stained glass are all by Comper”. This part of London was once very down at heel, and not an especially nice place to be, and Fr. Gutch, sometime vicar of St. Saviour’s, Leeds, and curate of various well known parishes around London, not least St. Paul’s, Knightsbridge.
The church was scene, in the 1920s, to a famous series of photographs published by the Alcuin Clb, and entitled “Ceremonial Pictured in Photographs”, these were the best example of how Sarum ceremonial could be best applied to the Book of Common Prayer, 1662. The photographs were re-created in 2001, using the same vestments (lovingly restored by Watts & Co), and are an excellent set, which brings the whole scene to life beautifully, and you get a much better idea of the truly ravishing quality of the colour of the place.
The Doom at St. Cyprian