It would be an exaggeration to say that Great Russell Street was empty at 8.55am on a summer morning. There are passengers walking solemnly towards the offices, and the lights are on in the branch of the large American coffee franchise directly opposite the front door.
But at this relatively early hour there is still something remarkable in the British Museum. And this is the absence of people. Or at least the absence of large numbers of people who would gather outside later in the day and form a snaking line around the courtyard.
We are human too. But we are a smaller group of 12 people. There’s a reason we’re here 65 minutes before the doors of Sir Robert Smirke’s neo-classical marvel are due to open. We go “behind the scenes” of London’s most prominent cultural icon.
We haven’t come very far. In fact it’s just around the corner – from where Montague in the Gardens is an almost equally great offering; a classic London townhouse hotel, all afternoon teas, live jazz performances and Bloomsbury finesse.
But as of last month, he is also a tour guide, or at least the organizer of the “Conflict and Protection” tour, a tour that is happy to pay for privileged access to the British Museum beyond its standard schedule.
The irony here is that “privileged access” does not mean entering the museum between the eight epic Corinthian columns on the main façade. Instead, we’ll turn right and enter through one of the staff doors. Suddenly, the architectural splendor of the exterior gives way to something simpler and more pragmatic; Service corridors and storage areas.
But the internal canals of the British Museum are no less fascinating due to various scratch marks. Guide Matt Harrison explains that during World War II, these interior parts of the structure served as bomb shelters for the institution’s staff units.
And as we go further, we pass facilities and features that are not visible to the public. On the right is the Hirayama studio, a space specializing in the repair and restoration of Southeast Asian artworks. I also notice a closed door with a striking warning attached to it: “Egypt: No trespassing.”
But when my overeager eyes followed the rest of the message – “Mummy Tins, Turath Scarves, Soft Toy Anubis” – I realized it was just storage for the gift shop.
The tour isn’t cheap – £950 for groups of up to 12 people; When you remember that basic entrance to the museum is free, you may think that this figure is even more expensive. And if there was a souvenir cabinet on the edge of excitement, it would be terrible value. But after climbing two flights of internal staircases, we emerge, excitingly, into the Enlightenment Gallery. In an exciting way? Why yes.
There’s an element of Harry Potter at Hogwarts, or perhaps the secret passages in the corner of the Cluedo boards (delete to your preferred generational reference point), describing stepping through a secret door into this mythical space.
The book, hidden as part of the bookcase, disappears almost as soon as it is locked again. When we leave the gallery minutes later, I have trouble finding him, unidentified except through the keyhole.
A more obvious joy is that the tour spends time in the otherwise abandoned Gallery of Enlightenment. On a normal visit, you must politely wait your turn to look at the Sloane astrolabe or the second-century Piranesi vase plucked from Hadrian’s ruined villa at Tivoli. Here, at 9.20am, the view is unobstructed and sparkling with silence.
Of course, there’s more to the tour than the feeling of exploring a famous and popular attraction with little other than your own impressions for close companionship. As its title, as well as Harrison’s reference to bomb shelters, make clear, “Conflict and Preservation” focuses on a period in the British Museum’s own history that is rarely mentioned among its antiquities and priceless exhibits: war and its perilous location within it.
Very little of London survived German bombing, and Bloomsbury was no different. The evening of 10-11 May 1941, at the tail end of the Blitz, was particularly damaging for the British Museum.
As we pass Roman wonders (not least the remarkable bust of Augustus with painted eyes, found in Meroe, Sudan, in 1910), Harrison shows us a photo of Room 70 after the hellish night; The roof is gone and the floor is slippery. This.
By the end of the Luftwaffe’s offensive, most of the museum’s important treasures were safely hidden underground; but at least 200,000 irreplaceable manuscripts and medieval texts were lost to fire and flood.
Another perspective is that the organization avoided the worst attacks. Harrison adds that one rumor is that Hitler designed the Art Deco giant Senate House, a block north of the museum, as his potential headquarters in conquered Britain, and that Bloomsbury would suffer less as a result.
Whatever the truth of this, time itself will not be conquered. We are in Room 37 when a magnificent 16th-century bell clock strikes 10 a.m.
Almost simultaneously, the espresso machine in the café next door begins to hum, and a faint rumble can be heard from the floors below as people file in. the experience stays with me until the afternoon.
how to
The “Conflict and Conservation” tour at the British Museum costs £950 for up to 12 people (from £79 per person; montaguehotel.com/experiences/conflict-and-conservation-tour). Guests must stay at The Montague on the Gardens. Double rooms start from £276.