
Mr Wolfe’s review of Hazlitt’s
- Privately owned
- Historic building
Three Georgian houses on Frith Street, all creaking floorboards, four-poster beds and Victorian bathtubs. The essayist William Hazlitt died here in 1830, and I suspect he would happily have stayed a little longer.
There is no restaurant and no need for one: Soho is outside the door. The honesty bar in the library is the most civilised arrangement in London, provided one remains honest.







