by It would be an exaggeration to say that Russell High Street is empty in the summer daylight of 8.55am. Commuters are flocking to the offices, and the branch of the major American coffee franchise just in front of the front gates has lights on.
But there is still something remarkable about the British Museum at this relatively early hour. And that is the lack of people. Or, at least, not many people who will gather outside it a little later in the day – creating a queue that goes around the yard.
We are people too. But we’re a smaller group, of 12. And there’s a reason we’re here, 65 minutes before the doors of Sir Robert Smirke’s neo-classical wonder are due to open. We’re going “behind the scenes” at London’s best cultural landmark.
We haven’t come far. From just around the corner, in fact – where The Montague on the Gardens has almost as much to offer; a classic London town hotel, afternoon tea, live jazz performances and Bloomsbury finesse.
But since last month, he is also a tour guide – or, at least, the organizer of “Conflict and Conservation”, a tour that gives those willing to pay for the privileged access to the British Museum beyond its standard schedule.
The irony is that “privileged access” is not the same as entering the museum between the eight epic Corinthian columns on the main facade. Instead we do the right thing, enter through one of the team doors. At a stroke, the architectural splendor of the exterior is swapped for something more scrappy and pragmatic; service corridors and storage spaces.
But the interior passages of the British Museum are less interesting for their various scuff marks. Guide Matt Harrison explains that during World War II, these arches of the structure acted as bomb shelters for the institution’s Legion staff.
As we go further in, we will go over facilities and features that are invisible to the public. Here, on the right, is Hirayama’s studio – a specialist area for the repair and restoration of works of art from Southeast Asia. My attention is also drawn to a closed door, on which the warning is struck: “Egypt: No unauthorized access”.
I only realize when my overzealous eye goes down to the rest of the message – “Mummy Tins, Turath Scaves, Soft-Toy Anubis” – that it’s just a stock room for the gift shop.
The trip isn’t cheap – £950 for groups of up to 12; a figure you might consider more expensive when you remember that basic entry to the museum is free. And it would be a terrible value if the commemorative chest was the limit of excitement. But after climbing two flights of internal stairs, we rise, excitingly, into the Enlightenment Gallery. Thrillingly? Why is that.
There is an element of Harry Potter in Hogwarts, or perhaps, the secret passageways in the corner of the Cluedo boards (delete according to the reference point for your favorite generation) in terms of entering this legendary area through a hidden door.
Disguised as part of the bookcase, it disappears almost as soon as it is locked again. When we leave the gallery a moment later, it is hard for me to see him, unrecognizable only because of his keyhole.
A more obvious reason for joy is that the tour manages to spend time in the Enlightenment Gallery when it is otherwise abandoned. On a typical visit, you must politely wait your turn to view the Sloane asterism – or the second-century Piranesi vase, plucked from Hadrian’s ruined home in Tivoli. Here, at 9.20am, the view is unobstructed – lit by silence.
Of course, there’s more to the trip than the thrill of exploring a popular attraction with just a little of your own impressions for close company. As its name suggests – as well as Harrison’s reference to bomb shelters – “Conflict and Conservation” focuses on a period in the British Museum’s own history that is rarely mentioned among the precious artefacts and exhibits: The war – and its setting dangerous. within it.
Few parts of London escaped German bombing, and Bloomsbury was no different. The evening of 10-11 May 1941, at the tail end of the Blitz, was very damaging for the British Museum.
As we go over his Roman wonders (notably the magnificent bust of Augustus with painted eyes, found at Meroe in the Sudan in 1910), Harrison shows us a photograph of Room 70 after that hellish night – its roof gone, the slick floor with it. water.
By that late in the Luftwaffe attack, most of the museum’s key supports were safely kept underground – although at least 200,000 irreplaceable manuscripts and medieval texts were lost to fire and flood.
Another view is that the institution avoided the worst of the attacks. Harrison says that Hitler had designs on Senate House – the Art Deco giant a block north of the museum – as a potential British headquarters, and that Bloomsbury suffered less as a result.
Whatever the truth of this, time itself will not be conquered. We are in Room 37 when a gorgeous 16th century carillon clock strikes the arrival of 10am.
Almost simultaneously, the espresso machine in the nearby cafe starts whirring, and a low rumble comes from the floors below, as the public makes their way inside. Within a moment, the silence has evaporated, – but there is great joy on this special subject. The experience stays with me, long into the afternoon.
How to do it
The “Conflict and Conservation” tour of the British Museum costs £950, for up to 12 people (from £79pp; montaguehotel.com/experiences/conflict-and-conservation-tour). Guests must be staying at The Montague on the Gardens. Double rooms start at £276.
