In May 1917, T. S. Eliot described for his mother a visit to the American poet Hilda Doolittle, his new colleague on the Egoist magazine. "London is an amazing place," he wrote. "One is constantly discovering new quarters; this woman lives in a most beautiful dilapidated old square, which I had never heard of before; a square in the middle of town, near King's Cross station, but with spacious old gardens about it." Somehow, Mecklenburgh Square has remained a quiet enclave out on Bloomsbury's easternmost edge, separated from the better-known garden squares by Coram's Fields and the brutalist ziggurat of the Brunswick Centre. It is bounded by a graveyard (St George's Gardens) and the noisy Gray's Inn Road, while its central garden-unusually for Bloomsbury-remains locked to non-residents and hidden behind high hedges. But for D. H. Lawrence, a one-time lodger there, Mecklenburgh Square was the "dark, bristling heart of London."
In a Quiet London Enclave, Five Iconic Women Writers Forged a Home | Literary Hub
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