FARRINGDON

 A historic area bordering the City of London, Farringdon is known for Smithfield Market, a centre for meat trading since medieval times, St. Bartholomew the Great is a 12th-century, Romanesque-style church, while The Charterhouse complex, dating to 1348, includes a museum with tours.
All three of those sites warrant their own pages, so this one will just deal with Farringdon as a whole. 

Farringdon Road dips down past it's Underground Station and Smithfield Market. As you walk down the hill, take the time to look ahead.

This picture was taken on a mirky, drizzly day, but nevertheless, the dome of St. Paul's Cathedral and the lofty pinnacle of the Shard appear in front of you. They look to be quite close, but they are actually quite a distance away. 

As I only walked in one direction, I only spotted two interesting buildings, but I'm certain the back streets of Farringdon have a lot more to offer.

Formerly the Butchers Arms this Victorian pub is named after the character in David Copperfield. The main bar is at street level with a shabby chic vibe. There are separate function rooms on the first floor and the cellar which host music gigs and comedy nights 

It stands at the junction of Farringdon Road, and Farringdon Lane, within spitting distance of Farringdon Station

Farringdon station was the scene of the very first crash on the running railway. The collision happened on Friday 27 February 1863, just seven weeks after the line opened. A departing train struck another coming in from Paddington, after an error by a pointsman had sent it down the wrong track. We learn from news reports that around 25 people were injured, often with cuts to the head and face. Mr James Best and Mrs Charlotte Shortland received the most serious injuries, and we may consider them to be the first passengers to be harmed while riding the London Underground.
The line was cleared and reopened within half an hour. Today, it would (rightly) have been declared a major incident with serious ramifications, but the Victorians just got on with things.

Next to the ultra-modern Farringdon Station is the former Metropolitan Railway Parcels Office.

The Metropolitan Railway (also known as the Met) was a passenger and goods railway that served London from 1863 to 1933, its main line heading north-west from the capital's financial heart in the City to what were to become the Middlesex suburbs. Its first line connected the main-line railway termini at Paddington, Euston, and King's Cross to the City. The first section was built beneath the New Road using cut-and-cover between Paddington and King's Cross and in tunnel and cuttings beside Farringdon Road from King's Cross to near Smithfield, near the City. It opened to the public on 10 January 1863 with gas-lit wooden carriages hauled by steam locomotives, the world's first passenger-carrying designated underground railway.

Past the station, the road continues down to the road junction outside Smithfield market. This area has been turned into quite a pleasant spot, with pubs and eateries, and seating in the little 'square' opposite the Grand Avenue of Smithfield.

At the southern end of Saint Johns Street, the gable of number 5 bears a bas-relief of a boar and the date 1897, when the building was re-built by William Harris. 

William Harris was known as 'The Sausage King of London'. 

To the outer world Mr Harris was known almost as widely for his eccentricities as for his sausages.

Some people – inspired by his name – frankly refused to believe that there was such a person.

Smithfield, however, knew Mr Harris for the over 50 years as being very real indeed.

A man of ‘‘original and forceful character’’, Harris had appeared every day, in his shop and in the street, wearing evening dress of swallow-tail coat, white tie, expansive shirt front with an enormous diamond stud in it, and an opera hat. An inventive self-promoter, Harris made his name and fortune with one product – the humble sausage – making sure it was tastier than anyone else’s.

He started young, working for a butcher in Woolwich, southeast London, at the age of 9. Much later, he started his own business, which grew rapidly through his offbeat ways of advertising.

He used tiny brown and white ponies, bred by himself, which used to trot between the shafts of his flamingred sausage carts. He once drove a mule from Hastings to London with a lady’s sunshade fastened over its head.

The Sausage King’s prosperity grew so fast that at one time he had between 40 and 50 sausage shops in London, with others at Brighton and Southend. His chain of restaurants specialised in a new dish: sausages and mash.

Publicity was second nature to this man: his registered trademark was a colour picture of himself ‘‘riding a huge pig to victory in the Derby’’.

He and his wife Elizabeth had three sons and four daughters, born between 1876 and 1887. William decided to name all the boys after himself, so they became William Two, William Three and William Four. They didn’t seem to mind.

In 1893, William was summoned to Clerkenwell School for the nonattendance of his son William. He turned up with all three Williams and asked, ‘‘Which one was it?’’ He was fined two shillings and sixpence. Afterwards, the proud dad told everyone the publicity had been worth £20,000 to him.

His daughters were not exempt from the Harris naming style – all were called Elizabeth (Two to Five), although they converted this to Betsy, Betty, Elizabeth and Bess.

Their now-considerable wealth enabled the Harris family to build a home and business, William Harris & Son, at 3-5 St John St, across from Smithfield Market, in central London, on a 50-year lease. Designed by architect Francis John Hames, the south frontage featured an ornate gable decorated in relief with a wild boar and Harris’ name.

Although the Sausage King was rich, he was never stingy. Every Christmas Mr

Harris gave a pound of sausages to every policeman and every fireman in London. In Smithfield his hand was always in his pocket and a mob of children would follow him about like the Pied Piper.

At Brighton, a tramp ran off with a string of sausages from one of William’s shops, on a day when the owner happened to be visiting. The thief was caught, and was dared to a sausage-eating contest – if he won, he could go free. A huge crowd gathered to watch; when William delightedly won (by four sausages), he gave the tramp a sovereign and his freedom.

The Sausage King was 69 when his tumultuous life came to an end on April 19, 1912.

But the family business, and his legend, would continue well into the 1950s.

Whilst next door...........I St. John Street also faces the little Square. Ground level is a healthy eating doffee shop, whilst uopstairs is given over to office space.