What do you think?
Rate this book
H.V. Morton's London #4
In Search of London
H. V. Morton turns his traveler's intuition and his reporter's eye for detail to the city that has fascinated him since childhood-London past, present, and timeless. He explores the City and the Temple, Covent Garden, SoHo, and all the "submerged villages beneath the flood of bricks and mortar," uncovering layer upon layer of London's history. Morton follows the thread of imagination back and forth across the city, tracing unforgettable the Emperor Claudius leading his war elephants across the Thames. . .the grisly executions at the Tower. . .the world of Shakespeare, Dickens, and Queen Victoria. . .and the shattered yet defiant city of the Blitz as well as the postwar London of "ruins and hatless crowds." Morton's quest for Londonâ s heart reveals how its daily life is rooted in a past that is closer and more familiar than we might think, making the book as informative, entertaining, and rich in human color today as when it was written fifty years ago.
440 pages, Paperback
First published May 24, 1951
12 people are currently reading
357 people want to read
About the author
H.V. Morton
113 books50 followersHenry Canova Vollam (H.V.) Morton, FRSL, was a journalist and pioneering travel writer from Lancashire, England, best known for his prolific and popular books on Britain and the Holy Land. He first achieved fame in 1923 when, while working for the Daily Express, he scooped the official Times correspondent during the coverage of the opening of the Tomb of Tutankhamon by Howard Carter in Egypt.
In the late 1940s he moved to South Africa, settling near Cape Town in Somerset West and became a South African citizen.
In the late 1940s he moved to South Africa, settling near Cape Town in Somerset West and became a South African citizen.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 29 of 29 reviews
February 24, 2014
H. V. Morton - In Search of London
The book begins with HVM flying in over London looking down, identifying landmarks and seeing the river winding through the city, and reflecting that Shakespeare died only three hundred and thirty years previously. 'Looking over the County of London covering over 117 miles, non of which existed in Shakespeare's time.' That's the magic of HVM's style - quirky analogies as travel/history writer with his unique touch.
In Search of London isn't a linear timeline of the history of this two thousand year old city from Roman times to 1951. There is a charm with the way Morton writes - the comparisons of events and places at different times in the history of the city.
Published in 1951, London is still to be rebuilt after the destruction from the Blitz. So much damage everywhere.
HVM draws interesting comparisons with various times in history. It's clearly evident Londoners are living in history. It is everywhere. It evokes in me a sense of envy. One thing I liked while reading, the book being written in 1950-51, was knowing what was still to come for London - Swinging London, ALL THAT MUSIC that was made, Thatcherism, Monty Python, the phone hacking scandal.
HVM doesn't remember Edwardian London, he spent his school years elsewhere. Returning in 1913, he saw his second London, remembers the stylish well dressed city before WWI. Four years later he saw his third London. Between the two wars London became one of the most popular cities of the world. After the second war, with London in ruins and austerity still in place, HVM saw his fourth London. It would have been surreal riding a bus through London looking at the results of the Blitz, bombed out buildings. One couldn't tell between class, everyone looked alike. The elegance of Eighteenth Cent. London had gone. It looked provincial.
Looking at the size of London, HVM reflects on and gives superb visual descriptions of ancient Britons fishing in the Thames and cooking on fires where St. Paul's Cathedral now stands. HVM tries to imagine wherever he looked, a street or building or park, how it looked in prehistoric London or Roman London. This is a wonderful history book, briefly touching on important times and the why it happened then is enough to get an understanding of the history, with the added enjoyment of MVH's quirky observations. So much he touches on stirs a curiosity to investigate certain times and events in more depth.
HVM never gets bogged down in too much detail. Being a journalist by training he keeps it brief and succinct, packing a lot into a paragraph. Why the Romans decided to invade Briton is clearly explained.
The foundation of London after the Claudian invasion of Briton was around the time of the Crucifixion described in the bible. There is a great description of the possibility of the Roman Legionaries putting the pegs in English soil might also have served with the XII Legion in Jerusalem and possibly been at the Crucifixion. Paul was starting his missionary travels when London was being pegged out.
HVM says "It is believed that before London was converted to Christianity the prevailing religion was the worship of Diana, the goddess of the chase, and it was once widely held that her temple stood on the site of St. Paul's Cathedral." Imagine the ancient Britons who worshipped the goddess Diana zipping forward in time to stand amongst the crowds lining the streets of London in September 1997.
The square mile of London, now known as the City of London, remains as it was established by the Romans. Custom has it the reigning monarch has to ask permission to enter the City of London, which has retained its independence. HVM says "But the English are a strange people".
HVM describes looking at the ruins on a morning after the bombing during the Blitz. Such evocative prose, a very poignant snapshot of a long queue of well dressed men and women waiting in line for a police pass to go beyond the barrier to see if anything was left of their business. "I stepped into the ruins of one building through a great hole in the wall, and saw a man walking about amid the pile of rubble. He was wearing a bowler hat and carrying an umbrella", and further, "I walked about this lonely place looking at acres upon acres of sunlit cellars". HVM brings the whole insane catastrophe and devastation of the Blitz to a point of focus when he says all this destruction was done when "a youth in the sky presses a button". HVM's writing has a clean tight journalistic style, a simple description and economy that ends with a line that nails it.
Among the ruins, wildflowers and plants quickly sprang up everywhere.
This is the first part of my review, I'll add another section as I type it up.
The book begins with HVM flying in over London looking down, identifying landmarks and seeing the river winding through the city, and reflecting that Shakespeare died only three hundred and thirty years previously. 'Looking over the County of London covering over 117 miles, non of which existed in Shakespeare's time.' That's the magic of HVM's style - quirky analogies as travel/history writer with his unique touch.
In Search of London isn't a linear timeline of the history of this two thousand year old city from Roman times to 1951. There is a charm with the way Morton writes - the comparisons of events and places at different times in the history of the city.
Published in 1951, London is still to be rebuilt after the destruction from the Blitz. So much damage everywhere.
HVM draws interesting comparisons with various times in history. It's clearly evident Londoners are living in history. It is everywhere. It evokes in me a sense of envy. One thing I liked while reading, the book being written in 1950-51, was knowing what was still to come for London - Swinging London, ALL THAT MUSIC that was made, Thatcherism, Monty Python, the phone hacking scandal.
HVM doesn't remember Edwardian London, he spent his school years elsewhere. Returning in 1913, he saw his second London, remembers the stylish well dressed city before WWI. Four years later he saw his third London. Between the two wars London became one of the most popular cities of the world. After the second war, with London in ruins and austerity still in place, HVM saw his fourth London. It would have been surreal riding a bus through London looking at the results of the Blitz, bombed out buildings. One couldn't tell between class, everyone looked alike. The elegance of Eighteenth Cent. London had gone. It looked provincial.
Looking at the size of London, HVM reflects on and gives superb visual descriptions of ancient Britons fishing in the Thames and cooking on fires where St. Paul's Cathedral now stands. HVM tries to imagine wherever he looked, a street or building or park, how it looked in prehistoric London or Roman London. This is a wonderful history book, briefly touching on important times and the why it happened then is enough to get an understanding of the history, with the added enjoyment of MVH's quirky observations. So much he touches on stirs a curiosity to investigate certain times and events in more depth.
HVM never gets bogged down in too much detail. Being a journalist by training he keeps it brief and succinct, packing a lot into a paragraph. Why the Romans decided to invade Briton is clearly explained.
The foundation of London after the Claudian invasion of Briton was around the time of the Crucifixion described in the bible. There is a great description of the possibility of the Roman Legionaries putting the pegs in English soil might also have served with the XII Legion in Jerusalem and possibly been at the Crucifixion. Paul was starting his missionary travels when London was being pegged out.
HVM says "It is believed that before London was converted to Christianity the prevailing religion was the worship of Diana, the goddess of the chase, and it was once widely held that her temple stood on the site of St. Paul's Cathedral." Imagine the ancient Britons who worshipped the goddess Diana zipping forward in time to stand amongst the crowds lining the streets of London in September 1997.
The square mile of London, now known as the City of London, remains as it was established by the Romans. Custom has it the reigning monarch has to ask permission to enter the City of London, which has retained its independence. HVM says "But the English are a strange people".
HVM describes looking at the ruins on a morning after the bombing during the Blitz. Such evocative prose, a very poignant snapshot of a long queue of well dressed men and women waiting in line for a police pass to go beyond the barrier to see if anything was left of their business. "I stepped into the ruins of one building through a great hole in the wall, and saw a man walking about amid the pile of rubble. He was wearing a bowler hat and carrying an umbrella", and further, "I walked about this lonely place looking at acres upon acres of sunlit cellars". HVM brings the whole insane catastrophe and devastation of the Blitz to a point of focus when he says all this destruction was done when "a youth in the sky presses a button". HVM's writing has a clean tight journalistic style, a simple description and economy that ends with a line that nails it.
Among the ruins, wildflowers and plants quickly sprang up everywhere.
This is the first part of my review, I'll add another section as I type it up.
April 10, 2017
I love everything HVM writes, but especially this one because it's the London of my childhood.
August 17, 2025
The rarest of things for me these days – a book I picked up in a second-hand bookstore (in this case Through the Looking Glass on Brunswick Street) on a whim and purchased after flicking through it a bit despite never having heard of the writer before. Apparently Morton was quite famous for his travel writing in his day, and he’s one of those early 20th century writers who has a breezily readable and even modern style.
I never thought of London in the 1950s as a particularly interesting place – more of a dreary black-and-white city sandwiched in between the dreadful thrill of World War II and the cultural revolution of the 1960s – but what In Search of London made me appreciate was just how much Londoners were still living in the shadow of the war and the Blitz: vast swathes of the city still in ruins, every single person except the smallest children having first-hand experience of war, rationing still in effect, and the general gnawing anxiety of the nascent Cold War hanging like a Sword of Damocles.
I glanced down at the people. Those over the age of forty had lived through two wars and had survived the Blitz. Boys and girls of sixteen and seventeen remembered no other London but a city of jagged ruins, of hob grates perched in the sunlight in shattered walls, of cellars draped with willow-herb and Canadian fleabane. This London, so heartbreaking to me, and still in a sense so incredible, is to them normal and commonplace.
That word “incredible” is useful one; I also recently read for the first time Lee Sandlin’s excellent long-form essay Losing the War, and noted with interest the passage in which he observes repeated phrases in the way contemporary war correspondents described events:
Hersey, like Pyle, calls the sound of a shell in flight “weird.” That word and its cognates recur countless times in American war reporting. The war was weird. Or it was haunted, or spectral, or uncanny, or supernatural. Battle zones were eerie; bomb craters were unearthly; even diplomatic conferences were strange and unreal.
This war – which marked the final end of many eras, and is the foundation stone of the modern world we live in today – feels so distant to us, and so important and so influential, that it’s impossible to see it as anything other than an immutable fact of history. Which of course it is; but that in turn makes it easy to forget that for those who lived it, it was just another case of history happening all the time, and happening around you, and perhaps feeling like something had gone wrong and this level of slaughter and destruction wasn’t supposed to be happening.
That’s probably a trite or stupid observation. But it was one which kept returning to my head throughout this entire book, which runs a pretty even keel between recounting History with a capital H – as Morton takes us through London’s grand parks and palaces, the museums and cathedrals, the execution of King Charles and the wives of Henry VIII, all those things which are basically as distant in time to him as they are to us – and the history of the Blitz, which for him and everyone around him is an ever-present recent memory. You come to see it as he does: how strange it is that this great city, capital of this sceptred isle, on which a foreign enemy had not set foot in a thousand years, could come – in your own lifetime – under powerful bombardment as the sky above became the enemy’s domain. You come to understand his use of that word “incredible” – simply not feasible or believable. In some ways it seems inevitable that all of history should lead up to that point, and in other ways, it still feels like some horrible mistake. Either way, everywhere in The Heart of London one has the sense of an ancient, beautiful, storied and majestic past, which was violently wrenched into the present by the industrial-scale 20th century war machine. Here, for example, Morton recalls a visit he paid to Westminster Abbey during the Blitz:
Returning to ground level, we made our way to the crypt, where I saw an unusual sight. This small stone chamber has a single squat pillar of red sandstone, from the centre of which spring the sixteen ribs that support the floor of the Chapter House above. The vestments for the next day’s services were carefully laid out – beautiful shimmering brocades with threads of gold and silver – and next to them, on four kitchen chairs, were laid out with military precision four firemen’s kits with gumboots, gas-proof clothing, gas masks and shrapnel helmets… As I groped my way to an almost invisible omnibus I thought how many strange things nine centuries have shown to Westminster Abbey. It has seen dead kings lying stripped to the waist in the glow of unbleached tapers; it has seen a Queen of England, Elizabeth Woodville, sitting “alone on the rushes all desolate and amazed,” seeking sanctuary from her enemies; it has seen pomp and pride and piety go marching down the centuries in company with greed and envy and treachery; it has even known one murder. During the War something entirely new happened to it, something that neither king nor abbot could have imagined. We called it A.R.P. or our own unhappy gift to history.
Visiting Piccadilly:
I am sure that few of the thousands of people who see these four streets every day know that their cellars are firmly planted in the London of Charles II. I remember during the last war – and during an air raid – having to go to a building at the Piccadilly end of Dover Street, now split up into dozens of separate shops and businesses, and on the way up my hand fell upon the magnificent broad handrail of the original staircase, standing there still, complete with its fat, twisted, typically Stuart balusters. It was an unexpected treasure to find in a building that gave no hint from the outside that its stairs had been trodden by men who had lived in the London of Charles and Nell Gwyn, Pepys, Evelyn and Wren; and the idea so delighted me that I stood there examining the balusters by the light of a cigarette-lighter until brought to my senses by the sound of an approaching V1.
Visiting the Monument to the Great Fire of London:
It was easy for complacent centuries like the Nineteenth, which knew no overwhelming disasters, to say that the Great Fire was a blessing because it swept out of existence a vast conglomeration of insanitary streets and made way for the cleaner brick-and-stone London of Stuart and later times; but we of today, who have seen so much that we loved go up in flames, are probably in a better position to feel sympathy for those of our forebears who suffered the tragedy of the Great Fire.
Visiting the Chelsea Pensioners:
It might have been thought that a veteran aged a hundred and one, who had survived many a dangerous campaign, would have been fairly safe from the King’s enemies in Chelsea Hospital, but this is an unusually dangerous world, and when a parachute mine floated down in 1941 it killed thirteen veterans, including one who had been born in 1840, the year of Queen Victoria’s marriage.
Watching the Trooping of the Colour:
There is something infinitely touching about military ceremonial, and I thought that an age which has endured two wars, and is talking about a third, ought not to be enjoying, as I and all those around me were enjoying, this bright burst of militarism. But, after all, I reflected, this was not war. War is a poor old lady hiding under the stairs, holding a beloved cat, while a young man thousands of feet above her in the sky, who has no hatred for her at all, who doesn’t even know she exists, is doing his best to kill her and destroy the street in which she lives.
Morton’s direct reflections and experiences bring the war, and the Blitz, and the manner in which London was laid waste, into the frame in a way which reminds us that not a single aspect of human life was unscathed by those great events, and that their direct effects lingered for many years and decades to come. It’s a book which touches on many aspects of London’s history, and he could have written a deeply engrossing book on these subjects at any time – indeed, it’s far from his only book on the city, and while reading this I also read The Heart of London, a collection of his newspaper columns from the early 1920s, which is out of copyright and available free on Project Gutenberg. But writing In Search of London around 1950 stamps it with the indelible mark of the Second World War – or, as Morton would put it, just ‘the War’ – and it’s all the better for it. A fascinating perspective from someone who was there for one of the most important of London’s many stories.
I never thought of London in the 1950s as a particularly interesting place – more of a dreary black-and-white city sandwiched in between the dreadful thrill of World War II and the cultural revolution of the 1960s – but what In Search of London made me appreciate was just how much Londoners were still living in the shadow of the war and the Blitz: vast swathes of the city still in ruins, every single person except the smallest children having first-hand experience of war, rationing still in effect, and the general gnawing anxiety of the nascent Cold War hanging like a Sword of Damocles.
I glanced down at the people. Those over the age of forty had lived through two wars and had survived the Blitz. Boys and girls of sixteen and seventeen remembered no other London but a city of jagged ruins, of hob grates perched in the sunlight in shattered walls, of cellars draped with willow-herb and Canadian fleabane. This London, so heartbreaking to me, and still in a sense so incredible, is to them normal and commonplace.
That word “incredible” is useful one; I also recently read for the first time Lee Sandlin’s excellent long-form essay Losing the War, and noted with interest the passage in which he observes repeated phrases in the way contemporary war correspondents described events:
Hersey, like Pyle, calls the sound of a shell in flight “weird.” That word and its cognates recur countless times in American war reporting. The war was weird. Or it was haunted, or spectral, or uncanny, or supernatural. Battle zones were eerie; bomb craters were unearthly; even diplomatic conferences were strange and unreal.
This war – which marked the final end of many eras, and is the foundation stone of the modern world we live in today – feels so distant to us, and so important and so influential, that it’s impossible to see it as anything other than an immutable fact of history. Which of course it is; but that in turn makes it easy to forget that for those who lived it, it was just another case of history happening all the time, and happening around you, and perhaps feeling like something had gone wrong and this level of slaughter and destruction wasn’t supposed to be happening.
That’s probably a trite or stupid observation. But it was one which kept returning to my head throughout this entire book, which runs a pretty even keel between recounting History with a capital H – as Morton takes us through London’s grand parks and palaces, the museums and cathedrals, the execution of King Charles and the wives of Henry VIII, all those things which are basically as distant in time to him as they are to us – and the history of the Blitz, which for him and everyone around him is an ever-present recent memory. You come to see it as he does: how strange it is that this great city, capital of this sceptred isle, on which a foreign enemy had not set foot in a thousand years, could come – in your own lifetime – under powerful bombardment as the sky above became the enemy’s domain. You come to understand his use of that word “incredible” – simply not feasible or believable. In some ways it seems inevitable that all of history should lead up to that point, and in other ways, it still feels like some horrible mistake. Either way, everywhere in The Heart of London one has the sense of an ancient, beautiful, storied and majestic past, which was violently wrenched into the present by the industrial-scale 20th century war machine. Here, for example, Morton recalls a visit he paid to Westminster Abbey during the Blitz:
Returning to ground level, we made our way to the crypt, where I saw an unusual sight. This small stone chamber has a single squat pillar of red sandstone, from the centre of which spring the sixteen ribs that support the floor of the Chapter House above. The vestments for the next day’s services were carefully laid out – beautiful shimmering brocades with threads of gold and silver – and next to them, on four kitchen chairs, were laid out with military precision four firemen’s kits with gumboots, gas-proof clothing, gas masks and shrapnel helmets… As I groped my way to an almost invisible omnibus I thought how many strange things nine centuries have shown to Westminster Abbey. It has seen dead kings lying stripped to the waist in the glow of unbleached tapers; it has seen a Queen of England, Elizabeth Woodville, sitting “alone on the rushes all desolate and amazed,” seeking sanctuary from her enemies; it has seen pomp and pride and piety go marching down the centuries in company with greed and envy and treachery; it has even known one murder. During the War something entirely new happened to it, something that neither king nor abbot could have imagined. We called it A.R.P. or our own unhappy gift to history.
Visiting Piccadilly:
I am sure that few of the thousands of people who see these four streets every day know that their cellars are firmly planted in the London of Charles II. I remember during the last war – and during an air raid – having to go to a building at the Piccadilly end of Dover Street, now split up into dozens of separate shops and businesses, and on the way up my hand fell upon the magnificent broad handrail of the original staircase, standing there still, complete with its fat, twisted, typically Stuart balusters. It was an unexpected treasure to find in a building that gave no hint from the outside that its stairs had been trodden by men who had lived in the London of Charles and Nell Gwyn, Pepys, Evelyn and Wren; and the idea so delighted me that I stood there examining the balusters by the light of a cigarette-lighter until brought to my senses by the sound of an approaching V1.
Visiting the Monument to the Great Fire of London:
It was easy for complacent centuries like the Nineteenth, which knew no overwhelming disasters, to say that the Great Fire was a blessing because it swept out of existence a vast conglomeration of insanitary streets and made way for the cleaner brick-and-stone London of Stuart and later times; but we of today, who have seen so much that we loved go up in flames, are probably in a better position to feel sympathy for those of our forebears who suffered the tragedy of the Great Fire.
Visiting the Chelsea Pensioners:
It might have been thought that a veteran aged a hundred and one, who had survived many a dangerous campaign, would have been fairly safe from the King’s enemies in Chelsea Hospital, but this is an unusually dangerous world, and when a parachute mine floated down in 1941 it killed thirteen veterans, including one who had been born in 1840, the year of Queen Victoria’s marriage.
Watching the Trooping of the Colour:
There is something infinitely touching about military ceremonial, and I thought that an age which has endured two wars, and is talking about a third, ought not to be enjoying, as I and all those around me were enjoying, this bright burst of militarism. But, after all, I reflected, this was not war. War is a poor old lady hiding under the stairs, holding a beloved cat, while a young man thousands of feet above her in the sky, who has no hatred for her at all, who doesn’t even know she exists, is doing his best to kill her and destroy the street in which she lives.
Morton’s direct reflections and experiences bring the war, and the Blitz, and the manner in which London was laid waste, into the frame in a way which reminds us that not a single aspect of human life was unscathed by those great events, and that their direct effects lingered for many years and decades to come. It’s a book which touches on many aspects of London’s history, and he could have written a deeply engrossing book on these subjects at any time – indeed, it’s far from his only book on the city, and while reading this I also read The Heart of London, a collection of his newspaper columns from the early 1920s, which is out of copyright and available free on Project Gutenberg. But writing In Search of London around 1950 stamps it with the indelible mark of the Second World War – or, as Morton would put it, just ‘the War’ – and it’s all the better for it. A fascinating perspective from someone who was there for one of the most important of London’s many stories.
Read
March 16, 2017He's a wonderful, descriptive and thoughtful writer who brings London very much to life with his words. It's a travelogue but also has lots of interesting history in it, which he presents in a very lively and interesting and easy-to-follow fashion.
September 5, 2025
In Search of London by H.V. Morton:
“What, I have often asked myself, really constitutes the charm of London, that something about London which satisfies you as only Rome does, that queer, disturbing vision of bridges, spires, towers and crowded streets which comes to you at moments when you are far away and brings with it as much pain as pleasure? The answer is to be found in history. Behind everything in London is something else, and, behind that, is something else still; and so on through the centuries, so that London as we see her is only the latest manifestation of other Londons, and to love her is to plunge into ancestor-worship. London is a place where millions of people have been living and dying for a very long time on the same plot of earth, drenching it with their blood, glorifying it with their nobility or degrading it with their villainy, pulling it down and building it up, generation after generation, yet never destroying the vision of an earlier day.”
This was an extraordinarily impactful book for me. It was also incredibly poignant, both from the author’s reminiscences and my own personal experiences. I had, as I’ve written in many reviews, the incredible privilege to live in London in 2014. It was an experience that changed my life forever. London is one of my favorite cities and I have many memories there, from 2014 and from my many trips since. It’s a living thing, a constantly changing organism. A place of a full range of emotions and experiences.
As such, the London I knew nearly twelve years ago is no more. But, the London I knew is still not so far away as the London Morton knew throughout his life. Morton was born in the WWI generation, serving in that war and living until I believe the 1970s. He was born in Victorian times, was a child in Edwardian times, fought in the war as a young man, saw the changes of the 20s and 30s, was in London for the Blitz, and wrote this book in the early 1950s.
In his incredibly average lifespan, Morton saw many incredible changes and many different Londons. He saw the London of the British Empire and a peaceful world in his youth and the London of a much-diminished but still vigorous Britain half a century later. If only I could see the worlds of different Londons that he describes!
This is a travel book first and foremost, and Morton influenced the great modern travel writer Bill Bryson. It’s fun to compare the two. Both are great writers, but very different men from entirely unique eras and worldviews. Much of this book is ramblings through the past, London’s and Morton’s own. The anecdotes about people and places, lost to time now, make the book unique because they come from Morton’s own memories.
The stories of ghosts, monarchs, Romans, and builders make this book even more interesting. I’ve heard much of them before: Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn, Victoria and Albert, etc. But the way Morton tells them, in his romantic way, makes them nearly come off the pages. He was a monarchist through and through, an old school British gentlemen. Another thing that’s lost to time.
This book is dated with some light prejudices, which is to be expected. Quite a few of the references and slang were beyond me too, and I struggled in that area. I felt like Morton rambled on a bit more in this book than in In Search of England. All in all, a wonderful read and excellent window into the many pasts of London.
“What, I have often asked myself, really constitutes the charm of London, that something about London which satisfies you as only Rome does, that queer, disturbing vision of bridges, spires, towers and crowded streets which comes to you at moments when you are far away and brings with it as much pain as pleasure? The answer is to be found in history. Behind everything in London is something else, and, behind that, is something else still; and so on through the centuries, so that London as we see her is only the latest manifestation of other Londons, and to love her is to plunge into ancestor-worship. London is a place where millions of people have been living and dying for a very long time on the same plot of earth, drenching it with their blood, glorifying it with their nobility or degrading it with their villainy, pulling it down and building it up, generation after generation, yet never destroying the vision of an earlier day.”
This was an extraordinarily impactful book for me. It was also incredibly poignant, both from the author’s reminiscences and my own personal experiences. I had, as I’ve written in many reviews, the incredible privilege to live in London in 2014. It was an experience that changed my life forever. London is one of my favorite cities and I have many memories there, from 2014 and from my many trips since. It’s a living thing, a constantly changing organism. A place of a full range of emotions and experiences.
As such, the London I knew nearly twelve years ago is no more. But, the London I knew is still not so far away as the London Morton knew throughout his life. Morton was born in the WWI generation, serving in that war and living until I believe the 1970s. He was born in Victorian times, was a child in Edwardian times, fought in the war as a young man, saw the changes of the 20s and 30s, was in London for the Blitz, and wrote this book in the early 1950s.
In his incredibly average lifespan, Morton saw many incredible changes and many different Londons. He saw the London of the British Empire and a peaceful world in his youth and the London of a much-diminished but still vigorous Britain half a century later. If only I could see the worlds of different Londons that he describes!
This is a travel book first and foremost, and Morton influenced the great modern travel writer Bill Bryson. It’s fun to compare the two. Both are great writers, but very different men from entirely unique eras and worldviews. Much of this book is ramblings through the past, London’s and Morton’s own. The anecdotes about people and places, lost to time now, make the book unique because they come from Morton’s own memories.
The stories of ghosts, monarchs, Romans, and builders make this book even more interesting. I’ve heard much of them before: Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn, Victoria and Albert, etc. But the way Morton tells them, in his romantic way, makes them nearly come off the pages. He was a monarchist through and through, an old school British gentlemen. Another thing that’s lost to time.
This book is dated with some light prejudices, which is to be expected. Quite a few of the references and slang were beyond me too, and I struggled in that area. I felt like Morton rambled on a bit more in this book than in In Search of England. All in all, a wonderful read and excellent window into the many pasts of London.
June 26, 2017
This was for the most part exactly what I expected: a poignant, gossipy, historical and old-fashioned exploration of London after the war. Two-thirds of this book make a great companion to a tour of Westminster Abbey or Whitehall, but the other portion is a reminder of a particularly imperial outlook on the world. Morton would be a wonderful guide if you could look past his opinions about women and immigrants, but alas, he provides more than one picture of post-war London, not all of which are flattering.
January 2, 2018
For the modern-day fans of Bill Bryson, this is his predecessor. A fantastic walk through London form a time, which forms Time's perspective isn't all that far from us, but might as well be as distant as Roman London itself. What a spectacular view of a city which has seen and been a part of so much history. And a fun read, if you know the city but a little, and can pick out they very dry sense of British humour which pops up every now and agin in Morton's internal monologue.
March 29, 2018
An informative, interesting and very enjoyable travel guide -plus -history of London by an extremely knowledgeable and entertaining writer.
April 14, 2019
A social/historical tour of London written by a man who obviously loved her. So few modern writers can put pen to paper with such emotion and attachment. Lovely.
March 17, 2024
Fabulous. Love this author.
June 26, 2023
The author places you there! Just lovely and British and historical and a delight to read.
May 29, 2015
IN SEARCH OF LONDON chronicles Morton's thoughts and historical musings as he spends a few days wandering through various London neighborhoods. Morton intersperses these episodes, which capture a London still healing from the Blitz, with entertaining and informative lessons on the history of the sites he visits and the occasional reminiscence on pre-war London.
For a journalistic travel writer, Morton wrote very romanticized, poetic descriptions of the London landscape, which I loved. Beyond detailing the city's past, Morton captures a moment in history that I, for one, often overlook when I think of Britain. In my mind, I usually skip from thoughts of wartime London to the London of the Swinging '60s. I admit that I'd given little thought to the bomb-ravaged London of the early '50s. Morton makes this atmosphere come alive with his gratitude for sites that survived the Blitz and his grief over the ones that didn't.
A product of his time, Morton's subtle (and not so subtle) prejudices stood out to me. Morton obviously hankers for the good ole days of the all-powerful aristocracy. Again and again he laments the new 'serventless age' that contributed to the loss of a certain magic in the city.
Beyond his slight elitism, Morton is blatantly sexist and racist. His South African friend, knowledgable about "numerous unimportant administrators in the Cape," is completely ignorant of what Morton deems the 'superior' history of England (231). To Morton, the Africans at the dance halls look as if they have just come from the jungle.
Women are not free from his stereotyping either. One passage that particularly stands out to me is about booksellers. Morton claims he has never met a book-woman, and he believes that women only come to bookstores to buy a certain book. They depart as soon as they purchase their books, for they are incapable of spending idle hours among the shelves. Evidently, Morton never met any girls like me. I love his quote: "the bookmen stand with their backs to the world, the book readers, the book hunters, the book tasters, the book maniacs--for books, like drink, can affect the brain--completely oblivious that they are not standing in an empty street," but, alas, according to Morton, I couldn't understand it. Morton's prejudices do not take away from the book's value as an informative and pleasurable piece of travel writing on London, but they do illuminate how far we've come, if not to stamp out such prejudices, to at least self-regulate according to PC standards.
Much like the book hunters and maniacs of Morton's prose, I lost track of my whereabouts as I read his beautifully written text. I value this book not only as a detailed (though not too detailed) history of London landmarks, but also as an artifact that preserves the feelings and prejudices of a mid-century Londoner. Thanks to IN SEARCH OF LONDON, my London sightseeing list has grown, and I'm thankful for it.
For a journalistic travel writer, Morton wrote very romanticized, poetic descriptions of the London landscape, which I loved. Beyond detailing the city's past, Morton captures a moment in history that I, for one, often overlook when I think of Britain. In my mind, I usually skip from thoughts of wartime London to the London of the Swinging '60s. I admit that I'd given little thought to the bomb-ravaged London of the early '50s. Morton makes this atmosphere come alive with his gratitude for sites that survived the Blitz and his grief over the ones that didn't.
A product of his time, Morton's subtle (and not so subtle) prejudices stood out to me. Morton obviously hankers for the good ole days of the all-powerful aristocracy. Again and again he laments the new 'serventless age' that contributed to the loss of a certain magic in the city.
Beyond his slight elitism, Morton is blatantly sexist and racist. His South African friend, knowledgable about "numerous unimportant administrators in the Cape," is completely ignorant of what Morton deems the 'superior' history of England (231). To Morton, the Africans at the dance halls look as if they have just come from the jungle.
Women are not free from his stereotyping either. One passage that particularly stands out to me is about booksellers. Morton claims he has never met a book-woman, and he believes that women only come to bookstores to buy a certain book. They depart as soon as they purchase their books, for they are incapable of spending idle hours among the shelves. Evidently, Morton never met any girls like me. I love his quote: "the bookmen stand with their backs to the world, the book readers, the book hunters, the book tasters, the book maniacs--for books, like drink, can affect the brain--completely oblivious that they are not standing in an empty street," but, alas, according to Morton, I couldn't understand it. Morton's prejudices do not take away from the book's value as an informative and pleasurable piece of travel writing on London, but they do illuminate how far we've come, if not to stamp out such prejudices, to at least self-regulate according to PC standards.
Much like the book hunters and maniacs of Morton's prose, I lost track of my whereabouts as I read his beautifully written text. I value this book not only as a detailed (though not too detailed) history of London landmarks, but also as an artifact that preserves the feelings and prejudices of a mid-century Londoner. Thanks to IN SEARCH OF LONDON, my London sightseeing list has grown, and I'm thankful for it.
February 13, 2010
From the back cover:
'"H. V. Morton is English, urbane, immensely cultivated, a man with a lively curiousity and an indefatigable interest in people, places, and the historical past. His books are among the best and most popular works of their kind...H. V. Morton is a fine traveling companion." - Orville Prescott, The New York Times
In this volume, packed with anecdotes and stories of famous personages in London's history, Mr. Morton describes the separate and distinct Londons which he has known in his lifetime, from the rich and arrogant city of his youth to the battered London of World War II. He delves into history and presents vivid pen pictures of great events of the past. He takes the reader into London's venerable buildings and streets and squares, with an eye to the odd and interesting things to be found in the great city. In fact, there can be few aspects of London that Mr. Morton has not touched upon in the pages of this fascinating book. Here is an enduring companion for the traveller or reader at home and for all those to whom Mr. Morton has long been the perfect guide and moste entertaining of interpreters.'
'"H. V. Morton is English, urbane, immensely cultivated, a man with a lively curiousity and an indefatigable interest in people, places, and the historical past. His books are among the best and most popular works of their kind...H. V. Morton is a fine traveling companion." - Orville Prescott, The New York Times
In this volume, packed with anecdotes and stories of famous personages in London's history, Mr. Morton describes the separate and distinct Londons which he has known in his lifetime, from the rich and arrogant city of his youth to the battered London of World War II. He delves into history and presents vivid pen pictures of great events of the past. He takes the reader into London's venerable buildings and streets and squares, with an eye to the odd and interesting things to be found in the great city. In fact, there can be few aspects of London that Mr. Morton has not touched upon in the pages of this fascinating book. Here is an enduring companion for the traveller or reader at home and for all those to whom Mr. Morton has long been the perfect guide and moste entertaining of interpreters.'
July 23, 2011
c1951. This is technically a travelogue but with a difference. Although dated as much of the bomb damage incurred during the Second World War, it is more of a history book anyway. Morton has included some really charming historical events told in such a way as to make the historical landmarks come alive. Ghoul that I am, I particularly enjoyed the section regarding the numerous executions at the Tower. Definitely recommended and I wish I could have seen the London he so beautifully described. At the end of the book, Rhodesia cracked a nod when he was describing his time on the BBC "talking to Africa" - ie "whether Charles or Mabel, surrounded by their tobacco, would hear me in Rhodesia". In describing the bomb damage to The Temple Inns, Morton mentions the following; "Who could have believed, when fifty thousand books were blown from their shelves and eight thousand damaged when the Middle Temple library was hit, that only one book would be beyond repair? This was Decisions of the Court of Southern Rhodesia, and it has now been replaced by another copy, the gift of a South African judge."
Read
August 30, 2011In Search of London is especially valuable as a record of what one observer, who first lived in London immediately after World War I, sees when returning to the City after the Blitz. Morton presents the book almost as a touristic account, arriving by air and taking a bus from Piccadilly to Bank, but then makes clear that he knows the city better than any tourist, through extensive walks and conversations with a variety of Londoners. He's always aware of the layers of past Londons, from the Romans through many royal generations to first-hand accounts of the air-raids. The book was first published in 1951, though, and his attitudes about women, Jews, and people of color read offensively now. He's a committed royalist, though one wonders how he felt when Princess Elizabeth became Queen, and his London seems to be populated mostly by white males. But for readers who can overlook those attitudes, he provides an interesting account of London.
June 18, 2012
I never heard of H.V. Morton until I saw that Amy Welborn gave his "A Traveler in Rome" five stars and began checking out what he'd written. A talented young journalist who got the lucky break of being the reporter to break the story of King Tut's tomb being discovered, Morton found his metier in travel writing (or so all the tidbits in books tell me). I checked out samples via Kindle and was entranced by all of them. I especially was interested in In the Steps of St. Paul and In the Steps of the Master, but Morton travels all over Europe and as far as South Africa, where I believe he retired and lived until his demise.
I chose to begin with his most loved book, In Search of London. Thus far, I am still entranced and looking forward to Morton's unique blend of history, personal memory, and "current" reporting from 1951.
I chose to begin with his most loved book, In Search of London. Thus far, I am still entranced and looking forward to Morton's unique blend of history, personal memory, and "current" reporting from 1951.
August 11, 2016
Morton tells the story of London from its founding by the Romans to the ravaged saddened city after the Blitz. He uses a mixture of informed populist history, his memories of visits he made himself and observation with a notebook at the time of writing. It is not a linear account, it is almost a stream of consciousness as places remind him of his memories and their history, skipping through the Romans, Mediaeval merchants, Shakespeare, the Great Fire, Georgian society, Dickens in a way that is linked thematically more to place than time. He has an engaging style of writing, nostalgic and occasionally whimsical. He loves this city and if you read his book, you will too.
The copy I read is the property of Hampshire County Library and is a first edition published by Methuen in 1951. It contains a *Warning* sticker, 'This is a store book. Do not reshelve in main library. Put in workroom for return to store.' This is an important historical document and I feel privileged to have read it.
The copy I read is the property of Hampshire County Library and is a first edition published by Methuen in 1951. It contains a *Warning* sticker, 'This is a store book. Do not reshelve in main library. Put in workroom for return to store.' This is an important historical document and I feel privileged to have read it.
July 2, 2007
This book was an unexpected treat. Morton was a travel writer, in this case writing about a city he had visited or lived in since he was a child. The book consists of a tour of various London sites, some well-known and some less well-known. It includes fascinating bits of history, legends and anecdotes about the various places he visits.
The book was written in 1951 (although it contains the occasional footnote updating some facts through 1961); the Blitz and the damage done to many London buildings is very much present in the writing.
The book was written in 1951 (although it contains the occasional footnote updating some facts through 1961); the Blitz and the damage done to many London buildings is very much present in the writing.
March 7, 2008
I enjoy this book because of the author's ability to delve into the heart of a city and then transport the reader smack dab into the middle of it. H.V. describes the evolution of London from the time he was a boy in the early 1900's up until the destruction from the second world war. He has seen London at it's finest and worst hours. This book is full of history and wonderful tidbits. One of the few books that I can read over and over.
January 30, 2015
I have visited London twice and this book makes me realize that I missed a lot. Morton writes about London and its long history in such a way that you gain a real feel for the city. On the downside, the book is very dated. Published in 1951, much of it was written when London was still recovering from the blitz. It is so lengthy and detailed that I must plead guilty to skimming the final chapter. In all a very worthwhile read for a history lover who plans to spend time in London.
July 7, 2008
It's been awhile since I've read a Morton book all the way through, but I am constantly referring to them, to look up some reference, or just to enjoy a beautifully written passage. Morton was the perfect travel writer - going about the UK in the 20's and combining current descriptions and encounters with the history of the place. He writes so beautifully, it is a joy just to read his books.
August 31, 2013
An excellent book, with Morton walking through post W.W. II London, exalting in what was preserved, and mourning what wasn't. It is full of personal and historical anecdotes that the best tour guides share. But I wonder how many of the sites he describes, saved from destruction in WW II, have survived the half century since.
Read
November 9, 2014This is a largely retrospective book, with the author reflecting upon his memories of London before the First World War. This is a well-written book, written in 1952, and in certain parts describes the damage done by bombs and V2 rockets launched by the Germans during the war. For me, one of the best parts of In Search of London was the history behind some of the more famous London landmarks.
July 22, 2009
H. V. Morton is one of the best travel writers. This book was written in 1952. He travels around London and describes the damage caused by the bombing. Also, gives a lot of history of the buildings. Very interesting book.
August 10, 2016
Very well-written and engaging picture of London with lots of interesting historical background. Still relevant although dated about some things given it was published in the early 1950s. And fortunately there is only a small number of sexist and racist comments.
November 14, 2016
FABULOUS !!!
Read
April 9, 2012Great, as always.
April 22, 2017
H.V. Morton transports the reader to a secret London. He writes beautifully and sweeps you away so that even in your livingroom, your mind is strolling down back alleys and the wonderful museums of London. I am a big fan of Morton and rarely have I read such delightful books.
October 2, 2018
This book is on my ipad Kindle and I read and reread chapters periodically. It's a very interesting view of London by H.V. Morton, who wrote this in the 1950s, shortly after WWII. The damage from the Blitz was still much in evidence during his writings, and it's very enlightening, almost surreal, to try to picture London, along with him, of entire neighborhoods completely annihilated or with remaining ruins. He visits Parliament, libraries or just walks the streets trying to identify the places and buildings he knew, loved and remembered before the War. It's a non-victimy telling that probably shows the English stiff upper lip approach to tragedy or disaster at its best.
Displaying 1 - 29 of 29 reviews