The area between the Strand and the Embankment is a fascinating place to explore. There are plenty of small streets and alleys, many running between the Strand and Embankment, others linking between many of these streets. Those that run down to the Embankment can be (for central London) relatively steep, with a number having steps up to the Strand – a reminder of how this area was once the steep bank between the foreshore of the Thames, and the high ground along which the Strand became part of a well travelled route linking the City of London and Westminster.
The area was also once the home of the great London homes of the rich and titled, estates such as Arundel House, York House, Essex House and Northumberland House.
As with most of London, continuous redevelopment has transformed the streets and buildings, perhaps the most significant being the construction of the Embankment and Embankment Gardens which now provide an expanse of flat land between what was the boundary between land and river, and the Thames of today.
The descent from the Strand down to the river needed some creative construction techniques for many of the large estates and buildings, and one of these was the late 18th century Adelphi development by Robert Adam.
Located where the 1930s Adelphi now stands, Roberts Adam’s original Adelphi was a development of streets and houses on a level platform to bring the estate up to, as close as possible, a level with the Strand.
To level up the Adelphi development, it was built on a complex of arches that created an area below the houses that was intended to be rented out for storage, stabling, warehouses for the wharf between the Adelphi and the river, etc.
There is almost nothing left of this dark and damp subterranean area following the development of the existing Adelphi building, however the following mid 19th century print by John Wykeham Archer gives an impression of what these vaults were like:

Image: © The Trustees of the British Museum. Shared under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) licence.
One place we can get feel for what it was like to walk down into the vaults under the Adelphi, is in the street York Buildings, where towards the upper part of the street, there is an entrance under a 20th century building, into Lower Robert Street:

Much has been written about Lower Robert Street, about its eerie atmosphere, and the story that it apparently even has a ghost, but in today’s post I will be concentrating on the history and architecture of the place, what it was like when the Adelphi was built, and the difficulty of showing Lower Robert Street on a map, although there is also a very tragic story that could have been the source of the ghost story.
When we walk into Lower Robert Street via the entrance shown in the above photo, we are walking under a 20th century building, and when the Adelphi was built, this was through an open gap at the end of a terrace of houses.
After passing under the later building, we get to the original, late 18th century stretch of the street, where it passes under the rear of one of the terrace buildings that line Robert Street above:

In the above photo, you can see the cheap approach to building this side of the buildings. The rear of the terrace was not meant to be on public display. It was not facing onto a street, and if you had business in the house (apart from those who were servants or workers), you would access the house from the front, on Robert Street.
The photo below shows the terrace of houses in Robert Street that the tunnel passes under, and shows the fine front of these buildings, Good brick work and decoration, compare with the cheap finish of the rear of the buildings:

Horwood’s 1799 map of London shows the area soon after the completion of the Adelphi.
In the following extract, the Adelphi is the rectangular block of terrace houses between Royal Adelphi Terrace and John Street (now John Adam Street), and to the left of the Adelphi, we can see Robert Street, and continuing to the left is George Street (now York Buildings):

In the above extract, the arrow points to the entrance in George Street / York Buildings to what is now Lower Robert Street, and as can be seen, this was an open entrance at the northern end of a terrace of houses, and that led into what appears to be a narrow, open space between the buildings in George Street and Robert Street – probably for service access to the buildings – a space that is open at its southern end.
Although not marked on the map, I assume that the length of tunnel underneath the house on Robert Street was there at the time, as the house is of the time of the Adelphi, and it would not have made much sense to build the tunnel at a later date.
I have marked the route of the tunnel and current route down to the south of the Adelphi with the red line in the above map.
This routing shows the source of the name as Lower Robert Street as part of the route runs below Robert Street.
A possible error in a map leads to an intriguing possibility.
I use OpenStreetMap as a source of maps for the blog, as they can be reproduced on non-commercial sites, and when checking OpenStreetMap for the area around the Adelphi, I found that it shows the route of Lower Robert Street mirroring the open space in the 1799 Horwood map, all the way down to the gap between rows of buildings at the southern end.
This can be seen in the following extract, and I have added the route of what is assumed to be Lower Robert Street today, and is shown in red (© OpenStreetMap contributors):

There was once very limited access between the two rows of buildings along the line of what is shown as Lower Robert Street in the above map, however it was not a street as implied by the map, and today is closed off at both ends.
If we follow the old part of the tunnel under the buildings on Robert Street, we can see the bright lights of the loading bay for the Adelphi at the end:

I assume that instead of the loading bay, the tunnel of Lower Robert Street provided access to the vaults underneath the Adelphi, and the view would have been of a series of arches, vaults and dark space running off into the distance.
We can get an impression of the area around Little Robert Street by looking at mentions in old newspapers, and the following dates from 1774, listing the prizes of the lottery held to raise finance for the construction of the Adelphi, where winners received houses or vaults:
A double vault for coach-house and stable with hay loft and servants rooms, over, on the north side of the Mews Street, situate between Lower Adam Street, and Lower Robert Street, being the first west from Lower Adam Street, which is let on and in occupation by Mr William Adam, Mr Capel, and Mess. Hodgson & Co. tenants at will at £34, 13s per annum.
A vault on the north side of Lower John Street westward of the vault facing Lower Robert Street. Ground rent 7s 6d per annum.
Note that as well as Lower Robert Street, the list mentions Lower Adam Street and Lower John Street, so there must have been a network of subterranean streets, with names mirroring the streets above.
We can get an idea of the size of the vaults and the uses to which they were put, from the following advert of leaseholds for sale in the Morning Herald on the 22nd of March, 1819:
“Numerous spacious Warehouses and Vaults, seven coach houses, stables for 50 horses, and other extensive and improvable premises, situate in Robert-street, Lower Adam-street, Lower Robert-street, Mews-street, Durham Street and under the Arcade, all in the Adelphi”
The rent obtainable from the above premises, which were already let, amounted to £448 8s per annum.
There is not much further mention of Lower Robert Street, or the vaults under the Adelphi. The build of the Embankment would later cut off the Adelphi from the Thames, so there was no opportunity to use the space for storing goods transported by river, and when there was an attempt to sell the vaults, warehouses, and houses around and under the Adelphi, they would not sell, perhaps indicative of the condition of the estate, certainly of the vaults below.
The record of the auction, from the London Daily Chronicle on the 22nd of June, 1927, includes Lower Robert Street within Lot 1, which compriosed:
“The freehold island block, Adelphi Terrace, including Nos. 1 to 10, John Street, 5 and 6 Robert Street, 19 Adam Street, the Adelphi foreground, with the lofty vaults and arches, embracing buildings in Adelphi Arches, Adelphi Cottages, Lower Robert Street, Lower Adam Street, part of Durham Hill, and ‘Jenny’s Hole’, together with soil of the subterranean private roads”
The contents of Lot 1 include some interesti8ng references. Firstly the “subterranean private roads” confirms that there was a network of streets below the Adelphi, which must have provided access to the vaults and warehouses below ground.
Secondly the reference to “Jenny’s Hole”.
There are a number of references to “Jenny’s Hole” the first is from Thackers Overland News on the 25th of March 1858, where:
“The notorious Adelphi arches will, it is expected, shortly cease to afford shelter to the helpless outcasts of London. They are in gradual process of letting. The most fearful den among them, one upon which had been bestowed the title of ‘Jenny’s Hole’ was taken a short time since by a publican for a wine-cellar”
The above article hints at the state of the area underneath the Adelphi, and the following report from Lloyds Weekly Newspaper on the 19th of September, 1852, paints an even darker picture, both of the area below the Adelphi, and of the tragic conditions that children could get into in 19th century London. It is a long and harrowing read:
“YOUTHFUL PROSTITUION AND DEATH – On Friday, Mr Langham, the deputy coroner for Westminster, held a lengthy inquiry at the St. Martin’s Workhouse, touching the death of Mary Ann Palmer, aged fifteen years, which occurred on Tuesday last at the workhouse, having been brought there by the police, who found here on the previous Sunday in a frightful state of disease and destitution, under the dark arches of the Adelphi in the Strand.
The case was one of these harrowing details exhibiting the horrible extent of juvenile prostitution in the metropolis, the bare recital of which appals the mind.
Sarah Cunningham, a girl only eighteen years of age, but whose appearance indicated the rapid course to an early grave, said that she had been fatherless and motherless since she was nine years old, having from that period got her livelihood on the streets, with the exception of about three months when she had a place shortly after her parents’ death (the jury shuddered as they looked upon the girl).
She formed an acquaintance with the deceased about eighteen months ago, since which time they had been companions up to her death.
The deceased and witness used to frequent an unoccupied stable, under the dark arches of the Adelphi, and a place also known as Jenny’s Hole down there from about half-past eight in the morning until nine at night, as they were too dirty and ragged to walk the streets, and they used to be visited by the young men working about the place, as also those passing to and fro by the halfpenny steamboats.
The police used to visit the place frequently, both day and night, but they were eluded, as the various girls went and hid, or left the place by another opening, returning again as soon as the constables had gone by.
The deceased was following her late course of life when the witness first met her, which was one evening at the Victoria theatre. The young men at the stables used to give them something to eat, and help to screen them from the police. They got no other money, but what they obtained under the arches in the way stated.
Deceased was very bad and had been in hospital twice. Witness had heard her say that she had a good home to go to – In answer to the coroner, witness stated that she would be glad to do anything that would take her off the streets.
Policeman Joseph Kelly, 137 F, said he found the deceased in ‘Jenny’s Hole’ on Sunday week last. She was lying down in a very bad state, being exceedingly filthy and loathsome in the extreme, labouring under a complication of diseases, and being covered in sores and vermin. Everything that could be done was done for her at the workhouse, but she died about four o’clock on Tuesday morning, the immediate cause being dropsy.
The father of the deceased said that she had been enticed from home nearly two years ago. He had spared no money on her education, and the last time he saw her alive was in November, when he had her home from the hospital and cleansed, but she soon went away again. She was his only child.
A verdict of ‘Natural Death’ was taken, and the coroner and jury sent the girl Cunningham to St. Mary’s workhouse, Lambeth, that being her father’s parish, and if she was not taken in, Mr. Testall, the master of St. Martin’s would receive her until her proper settlement was ascertained.”
A dreadful story, and one that tells much about being poor and at risk in London in the mid 19th century. The comment about whether the workhouse in Lambeth would accept Sarah Cunningham, was probably down to the common problem of lack of money, and a parish workhouse not wanting to take people from outside the parish, or seek more funds from those in the parish.
In many of the stories and accounts of Lower Robert Street on the Internet, there are references to Poor Jenny being a prostitute murdered by a client, and it is her screams that still haunt Lower Robert Street, and presumably where the name Jenny’s Hole came from.
The list of hauntings in London at this link, claims that Jenny was a prostitute murdered in 1875, and presumably is the source of the name Jenny’s Hole, however as can be seen in the above articles from 1852 and 1858, Jenny’s Hole was in use almost 25 years before the supposed murdered prostitute of the same name.
I cannot find the source of the name “Jenny’s Hole”, however I do find the tales of the haunting of Lower Robert Street a rather glib dismissal of the appalling and tragic conditions that young girls such as Mary Ann Palmer and Sarah Cunningham could find themselves in. and the way they were treated and abused.
At the bottom of the old tunnel of Lower Robert Street, looking back up in the direction of the entrance at York Buildings:

In the above photo, the Adelphi loading bay was behind me, and when I turned to the left, I could now look along the route of what may have been Lower Robert Street, and which is now part of the underground car park of the redeveloped Adelphi:

Which then leads to the exit onto Savoy Place – the street that runs between the Adelphi and Embankment Gardens. The exit / entrance can be seen to the left of the following photo:

In the following print of the original Adam’s development of the Adelphi, the entrance can be seen to the far left of the run of arches that faced from the vaults onto the foreshore of the Thames:

Image: © The Trustees of the British Museum. Shared under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) licence.
I am still unsure of the full route of Lower Robert Street. There is only a very small part of the original structure remaining, where it passes under the terrace house on Robert Street.
Did it then turn right and head to the river side of the Adelphi? Was it an actual street, or more probably just an access route from the street to the west of the Adelphi that ran alongside the western edge of the vaults under the Adelphi to exist to the south.
The fact that there was also a Lower Adam Street (mirroring Adam Street on the east of the Adelphi) and Lower John Street (mirroring John Street to the north of the Adelphi, implies that there were three subterranean streets running along each of the western, northern and eastern sides of the vaults, with the southern side looking straight through the arches on to the Thames foreshore.
Whatever the source of the name Jenny’s Hole (it probably refers to a previous occupant of this small place, possibly an alcove within the vaults), it was where fifteen year old Mary Ann Palmer was found, and soon after died, and her death tells an important story of the tragic circumstances that children could find themselves in, in 19th century London.
And the small stretch of Lower Robert Street is the only surviving part of the subterranean environment beneath the Adelphi that she would recognise today.