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The Project Gutenberg eBook ofA Walk from London to Fulham

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Title: A Walk from London to Fulham

Author: Thomas Crofton Croker

Editor: T. F. Dillon Croker

Illustrator: F. W. Fairholt

Release date: July 29, 2009 [eBook #29541]

Language: English

Credits: This ebook was transcribed by Les Bowler

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A WALK FROM LONDON TO FULHAM ***

This ebook was transcribed by Les Bowler.

A WALK
From London to Fulham

by thelate
THOMAS CROFTON CROKER, F.S.A., M.R.I.A.

revised andedited by his son,
T. F. DILLON CROKER, F.S.A., F.R.G.S.

with additionalillustrations,by
F. W. FAIRHOLT, F.S.A.

LONDON: WILLIAM TEGG.
1860.

CONTENTS.

Note by T. F. Dillon Croker.

v

Dedication to Thomas Wright, Esq., M.A., F.S.A.

vii

Memoir of the late Thomas Crofton Croker, F.S.A.,M.R.I.A., Etc.

ix

Text of ‘A Walk from London to Fulham.’

22

Index of Places.

250

Index of Names of Persons.

253

Footnotes.

p.vNOTE.

A series of papers which originally appeared in‘Fraser’ are now, for the first time, published in acollected form with the consent of the proprietors of thatMagazine.  It should, however, be stated, that this is not amere reprint, but that other matter has been inserted, andseveral illustrations, which did not appear originally, are nowadded, by which the work is very materially increased: the wholehaving undergone a necessary revision.

Since the late Mr. Crofton Croker contributed to‘Fraser’ the ‘Walk from London toFulham,’ there have been many important changes on theroad: time has continued to efface interesting associations; moreold houses have been pulled down, new ones built up, and greatalterations and improvements have taken place not contemplated afew years ago.  It would be impossible, for example, thatany one who has not visited the locality during the last fewyears could recognize the narrow lanesp. viof yesterdayin the fine roads now diverging beyond the South KensingtonMuseum, which building has so recently been erected at thecommencement of Old Brompton; but modern improvements areseemingly endless, and have of late become frequent.  It isin the belief that the following pages will be an interesting andacceptable record of many places no longer in existence, thatthey are submitted to the public in their present shape by

T. F. DILLON CROKER.

p. viito
THOMAS WRIGHT,Esq., M.A., F.S.A.

My dear Mr. Wright,

As a mark of sincere regard to an old and esteemed friend ofmy late Father, I offer these pages to you.

Yours most faithfully,

T. F. DILLON CROKER.

19Pelham Place,
     Brompton, 1860.

p.ixMEMOIR
of the late
THOMAS CROFTON CROKER, F.S.A., M.R.I.A.,etc.

The late eminent genealogist, Sir W. Betham of Dublin, UlsterKing-at-Arms, well known as the author of numerous works on theAntiquities of Ireland, and Mr. Richard Sainthill, an equallyzealous antiquary still living in Cork, were two of the mostintimate friends and correspondents of the late Mr. CroftonCroker.

The first-named gentleman drew up an elaborate table tracingthe Croker pedigree as far back as the battle of Agincourt. The Croker crest—“Deus alit eos”—wasgranted to Sir John Croker, who accompanied Edward IV. on hisexpedition to France in 1475, as cup and standard-bearer; butwithout going back to the original generation, or tracing theLimerick or any other branch of the family, it will be sufficientto say here that the Crokers, if they did not “come overwith William the Conqueror” came originally fromDevonshire, and settled in Ireland in the reign ofElizabeth.  Thomas Crofton Croker was the only son of ThomasCroker, who, after twenty-five years of arduous andp. xfaithfulmilitary service in North America, Holland, and Ireland, andafter having purchased every step in the army, was gazettedbrevet-major on the 11th May, 1802, in the same regiment which hehad at first joined (the 38th, or 1st Staffordshire Foot), and inwhich he had uninterruptedly served.  Indeed, he was so muchattached to his regiment, that, in his case at least, theStaffordshire knot became perfectly symbolic.  The closerthe knot was drawn the firmer the tie became.  He commenced,continued, and ended an honourable life of activity in theservice of his country from mere boyhood, until ill-health and abroken constitution forced him to sell his commission. Thomas Croker was the eldest son of Richard Croker, of Mount Longin the county of Tipperary, who died on the 1st January, 1771;and his mother was Anne, the daughter of James Long of Dublin, bythe Honourable Mary Butler, daughter of Theobald the seventh Earlof Cahir.  Thomas Croker was born on the 29th March,1761.  In 1796 he married Maria, eldest daughter and co-heirof Croker Dillon of Baltidaniel in the county of Cork, and on the15th January, 1798, Thomas Crofton Croker was born at the houseof his maternal grandmother in Buckingham Square, Cork, receivinghis first Christian name after his father, and his second afterhis godfather, the Honourable Sir E. Crofton, Bart.

While very young, during the years 1812 and 1815, CroftonCroker made several excursions in the south of Ireland, studyingthe character and traditions of the country, on which occasionshe was frequently accompanied by Mr. Joseph Humphreys, a Quaker,afterwards master of thep. xiDeaf and DumbInstitution at Claremont near Dublin.  In 1813 he was placedwith the mercantile firm of Messrs. Lecky and Mark, and in 1817he appeared as an exhibitor in the second exhibition of the CorkSociety, for he had already displayed considerable talent as anartist.  In 1818 he contributed to an ephemeral productioncalled ‘The Literary and Political Examiner:’ on the22nd March of that year his father died, and he left Ireland, notto revisit it until he made a short excursion there in 1821 withAlfred Nicholson and Miss Nicholson (who afterwards became Mrs.Croker), children of the late Mr. Francis Nicholson, one of thefounders of the English water-colour school, and who died in 1844at the patriarchal age of ninety-one years.

Crofton Croker’s first visit to England was paid toThomas Moore in Wiltshire; and soon after his establishing inLondon he received from the late Right Hon. John Wilson Croker anappointment at the Admiralty, of which office his namesake (butno relation) was secretary, and from which he (Crofton) retiredin 1850 as senior clerk of the first class, having served upwardsof thirty years, thirteen of which were passed in the highestclass.  This retirement, although he stood first forpromotion to the office of chief clerk, was compulsory upon areduction of office, and was not a matter of privateconvenience.  In 1830 Crofton Croker married Miss MarianneNicholson, and the result of their union was an only child,Thomas Francis Dillon Croker, born 26th August, 1831, the writerof the present memoir.

The literary labours of Crofton Croker were attendedp.xiiwith more gratifying results than his long andunwearied official services.  The ‘Researches in theSouth of Ireland’ (1824), an arrangement of notes madeduring several excursions between the years 1812 and 1822, washis first important work.  It was published by John Murray,the father of the present publisher of the ‘QuarterlyReview,’ and contained illustrations by Mr. Alfred and MissNicholson: with the ‘Fairy Legends,’ however, thename of Crofton Croker became more especially associated, thefirst edition of which appeared anonymously in 1825, and produceda complimentary letter from Sir Walter Scott, which has beenpublished in all subsequent editions.  The success of thefirst edition of the legends was such as immediately to justify asecond, which appeared the next year, illustrated with etchingsafter sketches by Maclise, and which was followed by a secondseries (Parts 2 and 3) in 1827.  The third part, although itappeared under the same title, namely ‘Fairy Legends andTraditions of the South of Ireland,’ may be considered asforming almost a separate work, inasmuch as it comprised thefairy superstitions of Wales and other countries, in addition tothose current in Ireland.  A translation of the legends bythe Brothers Grimm appeared in Germany in 1825, and another inParis in 1828 (‘Les Contes Irlandais,précédés d’une introduction par M. P.A. Dufau’), but it was not until 1834 that Murray publishedthem in a condensed form in his ‘Family Library,’ thecopyright of which edition, as revised by the author, waspurchased of Murray by the late Mr. Tegg, and is now published byhis son.  In October, 1826, Croker was introduced to Sirp.xiiiWalter Scott at Lockhart’s in Pall Mall. Sir Walter recorded the interview thus:—“At breakfastCrofton Croker, author of the Irish fairy tales—little as adwarf, keen-eyed as a hawk, and of easy, prepossessing manners,something like Tom Moore.  Here were also Terry, AllanCunningham, Newton, and others.”  At this meeting, SirWalter Scott suggested the adventures of Daniel O’Rourke asthe subject for the Adelphi pantomime, and, at the request ofMessrs. Terry and Yates, Croker wrote a pantomime founded uponthe legend, which was produced at the Adelphi the sameyear.  It succeeded, and underwent two editions: the secondwas published in 1828, uniform with the legends, and entitled‘Daniel O’Rourke; or, Rhymes of a Pantomime, foundedon that Story.’  Croker wrote to his sister (Mrs. EyreCoote, alive at the present time) the following account of thebreakfast party at Lockhart’s, which, though alreadypublished in ‘The Gentleman’s Magazine’(November, 1854), is sufficiently interesting to berepeated.  He first mentions “the writing andpreparing for the Adelphi Theatre a Christmas pantomime from therenowned adventures of Daniel O’Rourke, two or threemeetings with Sir Walter Scott, some anxious experiments inlithography under the directions of Mr. Coindet, one of thepartners of Englemann’s house of Paris, who has latelyopened an establishment here, which will be of the utmostimportance to the advancement of the art in this country, and ofwhich I hope soon to send you specimens.”  Then headds: “To tell half the kindness and attention which Ireceived from Sir Walter Scott would be impossible.  Thebreakfast party at Lockhart’s consisted ofp.xivAllan Cunningham, Terry (the actor), Newton (theartist), a Dr. Yates of Brighton, Captain, Mr., and Mrs.Lockhart, Miss Scott, Mr. Hogg, and your humble servant.  Wehad all assembled when Sir Walter entered the room. Maclise’s sketch does not give his expression, althoughthere is certainly a strong likeness—a likeness in it whichcannot be mistaken; but I have a very rough profile sketch in penand ink by Newton, which is admirable, and which some time orother I will copy and send you.  When I was introduced tothe ‘Great Unknown’ I really had not the power ofspeaking; it was a strange feeling of embarrassment, which I donot remember having felt before in so strong a manner; and ofcourse to his ‘I am glad to see you, Mr. Croker, you and Iare not unknown to each other,’ I could say nothing. He contrived to say something neat to every one in the kindestmanner—a well-turned compliment, without, however, theslightest appearance of flattery—something at which everyone felt gratified.  After speaking for a few moments to Mr.Terry and Allan Cunningham, he returned to where I stood fixedand ‘mute as the monument on Fish Street Hill;’ but Isoon recovered the use of my tongue from the easy manner in whichhe addressed me, and no longer seemed to feel myself in thepresence of some mighty and mysterious personage.  He spokeslowly, with a Scotch accent, and in rather a low tone of voice,so much so, indeed, that I found it difficult to catch everyword.  He mentioned my ‘Fairy Legends,’ andhoped he should soon have the very great enjoyment of reading thesecond volume.  ‘You are our—I speak of theCeltic nations’ (said Sir Walter)—‘greatauthority now on fairyp. xvsuperstition, and have made FairyLand your kingdom; most sincerely do I hope it may prove a goldeninheritance to you.  To me,’ (continued Sir Walter)‘it is the land of promise of much futureentertainment.  I have been reading the German translationof your tales and the Grimms’ very elaborateintroduction.’  Mr. Terry mentioned having receivedfrom me Daniel O’Rourke in the shape of a Christmaspantomime.  ‘It is an admirable subject,’ saidSir Walter, ‘and if Mr. Croker has only dramatized it withhalf the skill of tricking up old wives’ tales which he hasshown himself to possess, it must be, and I prophesy, although Ihave not seen it, it will be as great a golden egg in your nest,Terry, as Mother Goose was to one of the greater theatres someyears ago.’  He then repeated by heart part of theconversation between Dan and the Eagle, with great zest.  Imust confess it was most sweet from such a man.  But reallyI blush, or ought to blush, at writing all thisflattery.”  Here the origin of Maclise’sillustrations to the legends is thus given by the editor of the‘Gentleman’s Magazine.’  “Theartist, who had not then quitted his native city of Cork, was afrequent visitor to Mr. Sainthill (the author of ‘OllaPodrida’), at the time that the first edition of the workappeared.  Mr. Sainthill read the tales aloud from time totime in the evening, and Maclise would frequently, on the nextmorning, produce a drawing of what he had heard.  These werenot seen by Mr. Croker until his next visit to Cork: but when hedid see them he was so much pleased with them that he prevailedupon Mr. Sainthill to allow them to be copied for his forthcomingedition: and this was done by Maclise, andp. xvithedrawings were engraved by W. H. Brooke, and Maclise’s namewas not attached to them, but merely mentioned by Mr. Croker inhis preface.”

Scott made favourable mention of the ‘FairyLegends’ in the collected edition of the ‘WaverleyNovels’ published in 1830.  In a note on FairySuperstitions to Chapter XI. of ‘Rob Roy,’ speakingof the elfin traditions peculiar to the wild scenery where AvonDhu or the River Forth has its birth, he observes: “Theopinions entertained about these beings are much the same withthose of the Irish, so exquisitely well narrated by Mr. CroftonCroker.”  Again, in his ‘Letters on Demonologyand Witchcraft,’ Scott says: “We know from the livelyand entertaining legends published by Mr. Crofton Croker, which,though in most cases, told with the wit of the editor and thehumour of his country, contain points of curious antiquarianinformation” as to what the opinions of the Irishare.  And again, speaking of the Banshee: “The subjecthas been so lately and beautifully investigated and illustratedby Mr. Crofton Croker and others, that I may dispense with beingvery particular regarding it.”  This was indeedgratifying from such an authority.  The late Thomas HaynesBayley dedicated to Crofton Croker a volume entitled ‘Songsfrom Fairy Land.’

Having dwelt at considerable length upon the legends, therequired limits of this notice will not permit more than areference to the literary works of Mr. Croker which succeededthem; and as there is but occasion for their enumeration, theyshall be here given in the order of their appearance, merelypremising that the tales ofp.xvii‘Barney Mahoney’ and ‘My Villageversus Our Village,’ were not by Mr. Croker,although they bore his name: they were, in reality, written byMrs. Croker.  The list stands thus:—

1828–9.  ‘The Christmas-Box, an AnnualPresent for Children, a collection of Tales edited by Mr. Croker,and published by Harrison Ainsworth’ (Sir Walter Scott,Lockhart, Ainsworth, Maria Edgeworth, and Miss Mitford were amongthe contributors).

1829.  ‘Legends of the Lakes; or, Sayings andDoings at Killarney, collected chiefly from the Manuscripts of R.Adolphus Lynch, Esq., H. P. King’s German Legion, withillustrations by Maclise (Ebers).’  A second edition,compressed into one volume as a guide to the Lakes, appeared in1831.  (Fisher.)

From this time Croker became contributor to the‘Gentleman’s’ and ‘Fraser’s’Magazines.  In 1832 he was a steward at the famous literarydinner given to Hogg the Ettrick Shepherd.

1835.  ‘Landscape Illustrations to Moore’sIrish Melodies, with Comments for the Curious.’  (Onlyone number appeared.)  (Power.)

1837.  ‘A Memoir of Joseph Holt, General of theIrish Rebels in 1798.  From Holt’s AutobiographicalMS. in the possession of Sir W. Betham.’ (Colburn.)

‘The Journal of a Tour through Ireland in 1644,translated from the French of M. de la Boullaye le Gouz, assistedby J. Roche, Father Prout, and Thomas Wright.’ (Boone.)  Dedicated to the elder Disraeli, “inremembrance of much attention and kindness received from himp.xviiimany years ago;” which dedication was cordiallyresponded to by that author.

1839.  ‘The Popular Songs of Ireland.’ (Colburn.)

1843.  A Description of Rosamond’s Bower, Fulham[18] (the residence of Mr. Croker for eightyears), with an inventory of the pictures, furniture,curiosities, etc., etc.  (Privately printed.)

It was here that Moore, Rogers, Maria Edgeworth, Lucy Aikin,“Father Prout” (Mahony), Barham (Ingoldsby), SydneySmith, Jerdan, Theodore Hook, Lover, Planché, LordsBraybrooke, Strangford, and Northampton, Sir G. Back, JohnBarrow, Sir Emerson Tennent, Wyon, Mr. and Mrs. S. C. Hall, T.Wright, and many others were the guests of Mr. Croker.  Oneroom in the house was fitted up as a Museum, where such visitorsdelighted to assemble.

During subsequent years Mr. Croker produced several minorworks on antiquarian and popular subjects, some of them printedfor private circulation among his friends, and others ascontributions to the different societies of which he was amember.  He died at his residence, 3, Gloucester Road, OldBrompton, on the 8th of August, 1854, aged 57, and was buried inthe private grave of his father-in-law, Mr. Francis Nicholson, inthe Brompton Cemetery, a sketch of which, by Mr. Fairholt,appears in these pages.  It should not be forgotten that Mr.Crofton Croker was a contributor to the ‘Amulet,’‘Literary Souvenir,’ and ‘Friendship’sOffering,’ as well as (more extensively) top.xixthe ‘Literary Gazette,’ when that journalpossessed considerable influence under the editorship of W.Jerdan.  Mr. Croker also edited for the Camden and PercySocieties (in the formation of which he took an active part) manyworks of antiquarian interest.  He was connected, also, withthe British Archæological Association as one of thesecretaries (1844–9) under the presidency of Lord AlbertConyngham (the late Lord Londesborough).  Thatrecently-deceased nobleman was one of Mr. Croker’s mostattached friends, and opposite his Lordship’s pew inGrimston church, Yorkshire, a neat marble tablet was erectedbearing the following inscription: “In memory of ThomasCrofton Croker, Esq., the amiable and accomplished author of the‘Fairy Legends of Ireland,’ and other works, Literaryand Antiquarian.  This tablet is erected by his friend LordLondesborough, 1855.”

To enumerate all the societies and institutions of whichCrofton Croker was a member, honorary or otherwise, would inthese pages be superfluous; but one society shall be hereespecially mentioned as originating with Mr. Croker and a fewmembers of the Society of Antiquaries.  In 1828 a club wasestablished, composed of a select few F.S.A.’s, inconsequence of an excursion during the summer to the site, which,in the time of the Romans, had been occupied by the city ofNoviomagus.  In a field at Keston, near Bromley Common inKent, Mr. Croker had learned that the remains of a Roman buildingwere apparent above the grass, and it was to ascertain this factthat the excursion was undertaken.  An excavation was made,and a few fragments of Roman pottery and a stone coffin werediscovered.  Fromp. xxthis circumstance the club was calledthe Noviomagian Society.  Mr. Croker was elected itspresident, and although most of the original members had diedoff, he continued in that office until within a very few monthsof his death.  There are amongst them at the present timemany highly-valued friends of their late president, who succeedin keeping up their meetings in the true Noviomagianspirit.  Long may they be spared to assemble together,occasionally introducing fresh life to the little society, thatits pleasant gatherings may not be allowed to die out!  Aportrait of Mr. Croker was painted a few years before his deathby Mr. Stephen Pearce (the artist of the ‘ArcticCouncil’).  It is a characteristic and an admirablelikeness.  The next best is that in Maclise’swell-known picture of ‘All Hallow Eve’ (exhibited inthe Royal Academy in 1833), on which Lover, in describing theengraving, has remarked: “And who is that standing behindthem?—he seems ‘far more genteel’ than the restof the company.  Why, ’tis Crofton Croker, or, as heis familiarly called amongst his friends, ‘The honourablemember for fairy-land.’  There you are, Crofty, myboy! with your note-book in your hand; and maybe you won’tpick up a trifle in such good company.”  It may beadded, that Mr. Croker was for many years one of the registrarsof the Royal Literary Fund.  And now, in drawing this slightsketch of Mr. Croker’s life to a close, the writer hopesthat it may not be an uninteresting addition to the presentvolume.

T. F. D. C.

p.21CHAPTER I.

knightsbridge to the belland horns,brompton.

AnyoneObliged by circumstances to lead the life of a pendulum,vibrating between a certain spot distant four miles from London,and a certain spot just out of the smoke of themetropolis,—going into town daily in the morning andreturning in the evening,—may be supposed, after thenovelty has worn off, from the different ways by which he canshape his course, to find little interest in his monotonousmovement.  Indeed, I have heard many who live a shortdistance from town complain of this swinging backwards andforwards, or, rather, going forwards and backwards over the sameground every day, as dull and wearisome; but I cannot sympathisewith them.  On the contrary, I find that thep. 22moreconstantly any particular line of road is adhered to, the moreintimate an acquaintance with it is formed, and the moreinteresting it becomes.

In some measure, this may be accounted for by studious habits;a tolerable memory, apt to indulge in recollections of the past,and to cherish rather than despise, when not impertinent, localgossip, which re-peoples the district with its formerinhabitants,—

“Sweet Memory! wafted by thy gentlegale
Oft up the tide of time I turn my sail,
To view the fairy haunts of long-lost hours
Blest with far greener shades—far fresherflowers.”

“We have all by heart,” observes the author of theCuriosities of Literature, “the true and delightfulreflection of Johnson on local associations, where the scene wetread suggests to us the men or the deeds which have left theircelebrity to the spot.  ‘We are in the presence oftheir fame, and feel its influence.’”  How oftenhave I fancied, if the walls by which thousands now daily passwithout a glance of recognition or regard, if those walls couldspeak, and name some of their former inmates, how great would bethe regret of many at having overlooked houses which they wouldperhaps have made a pilgrimage of miles to behold, as associatedwith the memory of persons whose names history, literature, orart has embalmed for posterity, or as the scene of circumstancestreasured up in recollection!

If the feelings could be recalled, and faithfully recorded,which the dull brick walls that I cannot help regarding withinterest must have witnessed, what a romantic chapterp. 23inthe history of the human mind would be preserved for study andreflection!—

“Ay, beautiful the dreaming brought
   By valleys and green fields;
But deeper feeling, higher thought,
   Is what the City yields.”

The difficulty, however, is incredible of procuring accurateinformation as to any thing which has not been chronicled at themoment.  None but those who have had occasion to searchafter a date, or examine into a particular fact, can properlyestimate their value, or the many inquiries that have to be madeto ascertain what at first view would appear to be withoutembarrassment,—so deceptive is the memory, and so easy athing is it to forget, especially numbers and localities, theaspect and even names of which change with a wonderful degree ofrapidity in the progress of London out of town.  Thus manyplaces become daily more and more confused, and at lastcompletely lose their identity, to the regret of thecontemplative mind, which loves to associate objects with therecollection of those who “have left their celebrity to thespot.”

These considerations have induced the writer to arrange hisnotes, and illustrate them by such sketches as will aid therecognition of the points mentioned, the appearance of which mustbe familiar to all who have journeyed between London andFulham,—a district containing, beside the ancient villageof that name, and remarkable as adjacent to the country seat ofthe Bishop of London, two smaller villages, called Walham Greenand Parson’s Green.  Thep. 24former ofwhich stands on the main London road, the latter on theKing’s Road,—which roads form nearly parallel linesbetween Fulham and the metropolis.  For all informationrespecting the neighbourhood of Knightsbridge the reader may bereferred to a recently published work “The Memorials of theHamlet of Knightsbridge, with notices of its immediateneighbourhood,” by the late Henry George Davis, edited byCharles Davis (Russell Smith).

From Knightsbridge, formerly a suburb, and now part of London,the main roads to Fulham and Hammersmith branch off at the northend of Sloane Street (about a quarter of a mile west of Hyde ParkCorner), thus:—

Map

And at the south termination of Sloane Street, which is 3,299feet in length, the King’s Road commences from SloaneSquare.

The Main Fulham Road passes forabout a mile through a district called by the general name ofBrompton, whichp. 25is a hamlet in the parish ofKensington.  The house, No. 14 Queen’s Buildings,Knightsbridge, on the left-hand or south side of the road,Hooper’s Courtat the corner of Hooper’s Court, occupied, whensketched in 1844, as two shops, by John Hutchins, dyer, and MosesBayliss, tailor, and now (1860) by Hutchins alone, was, from 1792to 1797 inclusive, the residence of Mr. J. C. Nattes, an artist,who deserves notice as one of the sixteen by whose association,in 1805, the first exhibition of water-colour paintings wasformed.

From 1792 to 1797 this house was described as No. 14Queen’s Buildings, Knightsbridge; but in the latter yearthe address was changed to No. 14 Knightsbridge Green.[25a]  In 1800 it was known as No. 14Knightsbridge, and in 1803 as No. 14 Queen’s Row,Knightsbridge.[25b]  In 1810 as Gloucester Buildings,Brompton.[25c]  In 1811 as Queen’sBuildings.[25d]  In 1828 as Gloucester Row.[25e]  In 1831 as Gloucester Buildings;[25f] and it has now reverted to itsoriginal name of Queen’s Buildings,Knightsbridge,in opposition to Queen’s Buildings,Brompton, thedivision being Hooper’s Court, if, indeed, the originalname was notp. 26Queen’sRow,Knightsbridge, as this in 1772 was the address of William WynneRyland (the engraver who was hanged for forgery in 1783). When houses began to be built on the same side of the way, beyondQueen’sRow, the term “Buildings”appears to have been assumed as a distinction from the row westof Hooper’s Court; which row would naturally have beenconsidered as a continuation, although, in 1786, the RoyalAcademy Catalogue records Mr. J. G. Huck, an exhibitor, asresiding at No. 11 Gloster Row, Knightsbridge.

These six alterations of name within half a century, to saynothing of the previous changes, illustrate the extremedifficulty which attends precise local identification in London,and are merely offered at the very starting point as evidence atleast of the desire to be accurate.

About the year 1800, the late residence of Mr. Nattes becamethe lodgings of Arthur Murphy, too well known as a literarycharacter of the last century to require here more than the meremention of his name, even to those who are accustomed toassociate every thing with its pecuniary value; as Murphy’sportrait, painted by Sir Joshua Reynolds for Mr. Thrale, sold atChristie’s in the sale of Mr. Watson Taylor’spictures (June, 1823), for £94 10s.  Murphy hadprepared his translation of Tacitus[26] for the press, athis house on Hammersmith Terrace (the last at the west end); butdeclining health and circumstances induced his removal intolodgings near London, at “14 Knightsbridge.” From these apartments “he soon removed to others inBrompton Row, where he did notp. 27remain long,not liking the mistress of the house, but returned to his formerresidence (No. 14), where he resided till the time of hisdeath.”  In 1803, the late Lord Sidmouth (then Mr.Addington), conferred a pension of £200 a-year on Murphy,“to mark the sense” his majesty entertained “ofliterary merit, particularly when accompanied with soundprinciples and unquestionable character;” which graciousmark of royal favour Murphy acknowledged on the 2nd of March,from “14 Queen’s Row, Knightsbridge.” Here he wrote his life of Garrick,[27a] a work which,notwithstanding Mr. Foot’s ingenious defence of it, shewsthat Garrick’s life remains to be written, and thatMurphy’s intellectual powers were, at the time when hecomposed it, in a state of decay.

Murphy, according to his biographer, “possessed thefirst and second floors of a very pleasant, neat house, wherethere was a long gravel walk in the garden;[27b] and though his library had been muchdiminished, yet, in the remaining part, he took care to reservethe Elzevir editions of the classics.  Mrs. Mangeon (themistress of the house) was a neat and intelligent woman, and Mr.Murphy secured her friendship by giving her son a presentation toChrist’s Hospital.  Anne Dunn, his own servant-maid,was an excellent servant, honest, faithful, and attentive; sothat, what with the services he had rendered to the mistress ofthe house, and what with the intrinsic fidelity of his femaledomestic, he could put the whole family intop. 28a state ofrequisition, and command an elegant table, as well as readyattention, upon any particular occasion.  Such was thesituation of a man of genius, and an author, in the decline of along life, and in a country at the highest pitch of grandeur andwealth.  But it must be remembered, that the comforts hepossessed were not derived from the profits ofliterature.”

During the last year of Arthur Murphy’s life hepossessed a certain income of £500, and added to this was£150 for the copyright of his Tacitus, which, however, wasless than half the sum he had been frequently offered forit.  The translation of Sallust, which Murphy leftunfinished, was completed by Thomas Moore, and published in1807.

Murphy appears to have perfectly reconciled his mind to thestroke of death.  He made his will thirteen days previous toit, and dictated and signed plain and accurate orders respectinghis funeral.  He directed his library of books and all hispictures to be sold by auction, and the money arising therefrom,together with what money he might have at his bankers or in hisstrong box, he bequeathed to his executor, Mr. Jesse Foot, ofDean Street, Soho.  To Mrs. Mangeon (his landlady) he gave“all his prints in the room one pair of stairs and whateverarticles of furniture” he had in her house, “thebookcase excepted.”  And to his servant, Anne Dunn,“twenty guineas, with all his linen and wearingapparel.”  After the completion of this will, Murphyobserved, “I have been preparing for my journey to anotherregion, and now do not care how soon I take mydeparture.”  And on thep. 29day of hisdeath (18th June, 1805) he frequently repeated the lines ofPope:—

“Taught, half by reason, half by meredecay,
To welcome death and calmly pass away.”

All that we can further glean respecting the interior ofMurphy’s apartment is, that in it “there was aportrait of Dunning (Lord Ashburton), a very striking likeness,painted in crayons by Ozias Humphrey.”

Humphrey, who was portrait-painter in crayons to George III.,and in 1790 was elected member of the Royal Academy, resided, in1792 and 1793, at No. 19 Queen’s Buildings,Knightsbridge; but whether this was the fifth house beyondNattes’, or the No. 19 Queen’s Buildings, now calledBrompton Road (Mitchell’s, a linen-draper’sshop), I am unable, after many inquiries, to determine.  Itwill be remembered that Dr. Walcott (Peter Pindar) introducedOpie to the patronage of Humphrey, and there are many allusionsto “honest Ozias,” as he was called in thecontemporary literature.

“But Humphrey, by whom shall your laboursbe told,
How your colours enliven the young and the old?”

is the comment of Owen Cambridge; and Hayley says,

“Thy graces, Humphrey, and thy coloursclear,
From miniatures’ small circle disappear;
May their distinguished merit still prevail,
And shine with lustre on the larger scale.”

A portrait of Ozias Humphrey, painted by Romney in 1772, ispreserved at Knowle, a memorial of the visit of those artists tothe Duke of Dorset.  It has been twice engraved, and theprivate plate from it, executed byp. 30CarolineWatson in 1784, is a work of very high merit.  In 1799Humphrey resided at No. 13 High Row, Knightsbridge, nearlyopposite to the house in which Murphy lodged, and there, with theexception of the last few months, he passed the remainder of hislife.

At No. 21 Queen’s Buildings (the second house beyondthat occupied by Ozias Humphrey), Mr. Thomas Trotter, aningenious engraver and draughtsman, resided in 1801.  Heengraved several portraits, of which the most esteemed are a headof the Rev. Stephen Whiston and a head of Lord Morpeth. Nearly the last work of his burin was a portrait of Shakspeare,patronized by George Steevens.  Trotter died on the 14thFebruary, 1803, having been prevented from following hisprofession in consequence of a blow on one of his eyes,accidentally received by the fall of a flower-pot from awindow.  He, however, obtained employment in making drawingsof churches and monuments for the late Sir Richard Hoare, andother gentlemen interested in topographical illustration.

Queen’s Buildings, Brompton, are divided, rather thanterminated, at No. 28 (Green’s, an earthenware-shop) by NewStreet, leading into Hans Place—“snug HansPlace,” which possesses one house, at least, that allliterary pilgrims would desire to turn out of their direct roadto visit.  Miss Landon, alluding to “the fascinationsof Hans Place,” playfully observes, “vivid must bethe imagination that could discover them—

‘Never hermit in his cell,
Where repose and silence dwell,
Human shape and human word
Never seen and never heard,’

p.31had a life of duller calm than the indwellers of oursquare.”  Hans Place may also be approached fromSloane Street, and No. 22 Hans Place, is the south-eastcorner. No. 22 Hans PlaceAmong its inmates have been Lady Caroline Lamb,[31] Miss Mitford, Lady Bulwer, Miss Landon,Mrs. S. C. Hall, and Miss Roberts.  How much of the“romance and reality” of life is in a moment conjuredup in the mind by the mention of the names here grouped in localassociation!

The editor of the memoirs of L. E. L. records two or threecircumstances which give a general interest to Hans Place. Here it was that Miss Landon was born on the 14th August, 1802,in the house now No. 25; and “it is remarkable that thegreater portion of L. E. L.’s existence was passed on thespot where she was born.  From Hans Place and itsneighbourhood she was seldom absent, and then not for any greatlength of time; until within a year or two of her death, she hadthere found her home, not indeed in the house of her birth, butclose by.  Taken occasionally during the earlier years ofchildhood into thep. 32country, it was to Hans Place shereturned.  Here some of her school time was passed. When her parents removed she yet clung to the old spot, and, asher own mistress, chose the same scene for her residence. When one series of inmates quitted it, she still resided therewith their successors, returning continually after everywandering, ‘like a blackbird to his nest.’”

The partiality of Miss Landon for London wasextraordinary.  In a letter, written in 1834, and addressedto a reverend gentleman, she ominously says, “When I havethe good luck or ill luck (I rather lean to the latter opinion)of being married, I shall certainly insist on the weddingexcursion not extending much beyond Hyde Park Corner.”

When in her sixth year (1808), Miss Landon was sent to schoolat No. 22 Hans Place.  This school was then kept by MissBowden, who in 1801 had published ‘A Poetical Introductionto the Study of Botany,’[32a] and in 1810 a poementitled ‘The Pleasures of Friendship.’[32b]  Miss Bowden became the CountessSt. Quentin, and died some years ago in the neighbourhood ofParis.  In this house, where she had been educated, MissLandon afterwards resided for many years as a boarder with theMisses Lance, who conducted a ladies’ school. “It seems,” observes the biographer of L. E. L.,“to have been appropriated to such purposes from the timeit was built, nor was L. E. L. the first who drank at the‘well of English’ within its walls.  MissMitford, we believe, was educated there, and Lady Caroline Lambwas an inmate for a time.”

It is the remark of Miss Landon herself, that “a historyp.33of the how and where works of imagination have beenproduced would often be more extraordinary than the worksthemselves.”  “Her own case,” observes afemale friend, “is, in some degree, an illustration ofperfect independence of mind over all externalcircumstances.  Perhaps to the L. E. L., of whom so manynonsensical things have been said, as that she should write witha crystal pen, dipped in dew, upon silver paper, and use forpounce the dust of a butterfly’s wing, a dilettante ofliterature would assign for the scene of her authorship afairy-like boudoir, with rose-coloured and silver hangings,fitted with all the luxuries of a fastidious taste.  How didthe reality agree with this fancy sketch? Attic, No. 22 Hans PlaceMiss Landon’s drawing-room,[33] indeed, was prettilyfurnished, but it was her invariable habit to write in herbed-room.  I see it now, that homely-looking, almostuncomfortable room, fronting the street, and barely furnishedwith a simple white bed, at the foot of which was a small, old,oblong-shaped, sort of dressing-table, quite covered with acommon worn writing-desk, heaped with papers, while some strewedthe ground, the table being too small for aught besides the desk;a little high-backed cane chair, which gave you any idea ratherthan that of comfort.  A few books scattered about completedthe author’s paraphernalia.”

p.34In this attic did the muse of L. E. L. dream of anddescribe music, moonlight, and roses, and “apostrophiseloves, memories, hopes, and fears,” with how much ultimateappetite for invention or sympathy may be judged from herdeclaration that, “there is one conclusion at which I havearrived, that a horse in a mill has an easier life than anauthor.  I am fairly fagged out of my life.”

Miss Roberts, who had resided in the same house with MissLandon, prefixed a brief memoir to a collection of poems by thatlamented lady, which appeared shortly after her death, her ownmournful lines—

Alas!hope is notprophecywe dream,
But rarely does the glad fulfilment come;
We leave our land,and we return nomore.”

And within less than twenty months from the selection of theselines they became applicable to her who had quoted them.

Emma Roberts accompanied her sister, Mrs. M’Naughten, toIndia, where she resided for some time.  On hersister’s death Miss Roberts returned to England, andemployed her pen assiduously and advantageously in illustratingthe condition of our eastern dominions.  She returned toIndia, and died at Poonah, on the 17th September, 1840. Though considerably the elder, she was one of the early friendsof Miss Landon, having for several years previous to her firstvisit to India boarded with the Misses Lance in Hans Place.

“These were happy days, and little boded thepremature and melancholy fate which awaited them in foreignclimes.  We believe,” says the editor of the‘Literary Gazette,’ “that it was the example ofp.35the literary pursuits of Miss Landon which stimulatedMiss Roberts to try her powers as an author, and we rememberhaving the gratification to assist her in launching her firstessay—an historical production,[35] which reflected highcredit on her talents, and at once established her in a fairposition in the ranks of literature.  Since then she hasbeen one of the most prolific of our female writers, and given tothe public a number of works of interest and value.  Theexpedition to India, on which she unfortunately perished, wasundertaken with comprehensive views towards the furtherillustration of the East, and portions of her descriptions haveappeared as she journeyed to her destination in periodicalsdevoted to Asiatic pursuits.”

The influence of Miss Landon’s literary popularity uponthe mind of Miss Roberts very probably caused that lady to desiresimilar celebrity.  Indeed, so imitative are the impulses ofthe human mind, that it may fairly be questioned if Miss Landonwould ever have attuned her lyre had she mot been in the presenceof Miss Mitford’s and Miss Rowden’s “fame, andfelt its influence.”  Miss Mitford has chronicled sominutely all the sayings and doings of her school-days in HansPlace (H. P., as she mysteriously writes it), that she admits usat once behind the scenes.  She describes herself as sentthere (we will not supply the date, but presume it to besomewhere about 1800) “a petted child of ten years old,born and bred in the country, and as shy as a hare.” The schoolmistress, a Mrs. S---, “seldom came nearus.  Her post was to sit all day, nicely dressed, in anicely-furnished drawing-room, busy with some piece of delicateneedlework, receiving mammas, aunts, and godmammas, answeringquestions, and administering as much praise as sheconscientiously could—p. 36perhaps alittle more.  In the school-room she ruled, like otherrulers, by ministers and delegates, of whom the French teacherwas the principal.”  This French teacher, the daughterof anémigré of distinction, left, upon theshort peace of Amiens, to join her parents in an attempt torecover their property, in which they succeeded.  Hersuccessor is admirably sketched by Miss Mitford; and the mutualantipathy which existed between the French and English teacher,in whom we at once recognise Miss Rowden:—

“Never were two better haters.  Theirrelative situations had probably something to do with it, and yetit was wonderful that two such excellent persons should sothoroughly detest each other.  Miss R.’s aversion wasof the cold, phlegmatic, contemptuous, provoking sort; she keptaloof, and said nothing.  Madame’s was acute, fiery,and loquacious; she not only hated Miss R., but hated for hersake knowledge, and literature, and wit, and, above all, poetry,which she denounced assomething fatal and contagious,like the plague.”

Miss Mitford’s literary and dramatic tastes seem to havebeen acquired from Miss Rowden, whom she describes as “oneof the most charming women that she had everknown:”—

“The pretty wordgraziosa, by whichNapoleon loved to describe Josephine, seemed made for her. She was full of a delicate grace of mind and person.  Herlittle elegant figure and her fair mild face, lighted up sobrilliantly by her large hazel eyes, corresponded exactly withthe soft, gentle manners which were so often awakened into adelightful playfulness, or an enthusiasm more charming still, bythe impulse of her quick and ardent spirit.  To be sure shehad a slight touch of distraction about her (distraction French,not distraction English), an interesting absence of mind. She united in her own person all the sins of forgetfulness of allthe young ladies; mislaid her handkerchief, her shawl, hergloves, her work, her music, herp. 37drawing, herscissors, her keys; would ask for a book when she held it in herhand, and set a whole class hunting for her thimble, whilst thesaid thimble was quietly perched upon her finger.  Oh! withwhat a pitying scorn our exact and recollective Frenchwoman usedto look down on such an incorrigible scatterbrain!  But shewas a poetess, as Madame said, and what could you expectbetter!”

Such was Miss Landon’s schoolmistress; and under thislady’s especial instruction did Miss Mitford pass the years1802, 3, and 4; together they read “chiefly poetry;”and “besides the readings,” says Miss Mitford,“Miss R. compensated in another way for my unwillingapplication.  She took me often to the theatre; whether asan extra branch of education, or because she was herself in theheight of a dramatic fever, it would be invidious toinquire.  The effect may be easily foreseen; my enthusiasmsoon equalled her own; we began to read Shakspeare, and readnothing else.”

In 1810 Miss Mitford first appeared as an authoress, bypublishing a volume of poems, which, in the course of thefollowing year, passed into a second edition.

At No. 21 Hans Place, the talented artistes, Mr. and Mrs.Alfred Wigan, resided some time.

Returning from Hans Place to the Fulham Road throughNew Street, No. 7 may he pointed out as thehouse formerly occupied by Chalon, “animal painter to theroyal family;” and No. 6 as the residence of the Right Hon.David R. Pigot, the late Solicitor-General for Ireland, while (in1824–25) studying in the chambers of the late LordChief-Justice Tindal, for the profession of which his pupilrapidly became an eminent member.

Brompton was formerly an airyoutlet to which thep. 38citizen, with his spouse, were wontto resort for an afternoon of rustic enjoyment.  It had alsothe reputation of being a locality favourable to intrigue. Steele, shrewdly writing on the 27th July, 1713, says:—

“Dear Wife,—If you please to call atButton’s, we will go together to Brompton.

“Yours ever,
Richard Steele.”[38a]

Now is Brompton all built or being built over, which makes theprecise locality of crescents and rows puzzling to oldgentlemen.  Its heath is gone, and its grove represented bya few dead trunks and some unhealthy-looking trees which stand bythe road-side, their branches lopped and their growth restrainedby order of the district surveyor; and Brompton National School,nearly opposite to New Street, a building in the Tudor style,was, in 1841, wedged in there “for the education of 400children, after the design of Mr. George Godwin, jun.;” soat least the newspapers of the day informed the public.

Brompton Row on the north, orright-hand side of the main Fulham Road, now consists offifty-five respectable-looking houses, uniform, or nearly so, inappearance; and, according to the statements in the‘Gentleman’s Magazine’[38b] and Mr. Faulkner’s‘History of Kensington’[38c] here died ArthurMurphy.  But although this was not the case, in Brompton Rowhave lived and died authors, and actors, and artists, whoseperformances deserve full as much consideration fromposterity.

p.39No. 14Brompton Row was theabode for more than ten years (1820 to 1831) of John Vendramini,a distinguished engraver. No. 14 Brompton RowHe was born at Roncade, near Bassano, in Italy, and died 8thFebruary, 1839, aged seventy.  Vendramini was a pupil ofBartolozzi, under whom he worked for many years, and of theeffect he produced upon British art much remains to besaid.  In 1805 Vendramini visited Russia, and on his returnto England engraved ‘The Vision of St. Catherine,’after Paul Veronese; the ‘St. Sebastian,’ afterSpagnoletti; ‘Leda,’ after Leonardo da Vinci; and the‘Raising of Lazarus,’ from the Sebastian del Piomboin the National Gallery.

No. 14 Brompton Row, in 1842, was the residence of the lateMr. George Herbert Rodwell, a favourite musical and dramaticcomposer, who died January 22nd, 1852.

At No. 23 Brompton Row resided Mr. Walter Hamilton, who, in1819, published, in two volumes 4to, ‘A Geographical,Statistical, and Historical Description of Hindostan and theAdjacent Country;’ according to Lowndes’‘Bibliographer’s Manual,’ “an inestimablecompilation, containing a more full, detailed, and faithfulpicture of the whole of India than any former work on thesubject.” Embellishmentp.40Mr. Hamilton subsequently lived for a short period atNo. 8 Rawstorne Street, which street divides No. 27 (aconfectioner’s shop), and No. 28 (the Crown and Sceptre)Brompton Row, opposite to the Red Lion (a public-house of whichthe peculiar and characteristic style of embellishment couldscarcely have escaped notice at the time when the annexed sketchwas made, 1844, but which decoration was removed in 1849.) Soon after his return to his house in Brompton Row, Mr. Hamiltondied there in July or August, 1828.

Rawstorne Street leads to Montpellier Square (built about1837).  In this square, No. 11, resides Mr. F. W. Fairholt,the distinguished artist and antiquary, to whose pencil and formuch valuable information the editor of these pages is greatlyindebted; and No. 38 may be mentioned as the residence of Mr.Walter Lacy the favourite actor.

Mrs. Liston, the widow of the comedian, resided at No. 35Brompton Row, and No. 45 was the residence of the ingenious CountRumford, the early patron of Sir Humphry Davy.  The Countoccupied it between the years 1799 and 1802, when he finally leftEngland for France, where he married the widow of the famouschemist, Lavoisier, and died in 1814.  Count Rumford’sname was Benjamin Thompson, or Thomson.  He was a native ofthe small town of Rumford (now Concord, in New England), andobtained the rank of major in the Local Militia.  In the warwith America he rendered important services top. 41the officerscommanding the British army, and coming to England was employedby Lord George Germaine, and rewarded with the rank of aprovincial lieutenant-colonel, which entitled him tohalf-pay. No. 45 Brompton RowIn 1784 he was knighted, and officiated for a short time asone of the under-secretaries of state.  He afterwardsentered the service of the King of Bavaria, in which heintroduced various useful reforms in the civil and militarydepartments, and for which he was promoted to the rank oflieutenant-general, and created a count.  At Munich, CountRumford began those experiments for the improvements offire-places and the plans for the better feeding and regulationof the poor, which have rendered his name familiar to everyone,

“As his own household hearth.”

No. 45 was distinguished some years ago by peculiar projectingwindows, now removed, outside of the ordinary windows—anexperimental contrivance by Count Rumford, it is said, forraising the temperature of his rooms.

The same house, in 1810, was inhabited by the Rev.p.42William Beloe, the translator of Herodotus, and theauthor of various works between the years 1783 and 1812.  Inhis last publication, ‘The Anecdotes of Literature,’Mr. Beloe says, “He who has written and published not lessthan forty volumes, which is my case, may well congratulatehimself, first, that Providence has graciously spared him for solong a period; secondly, that sufficient health and opportunityhave been afforded; and, lastly, that he has passed through acareer so extended and so perilous without being seriouslyimplicated in personal or literary hostilities.”  Itis strange that a man who could feel thus should immediately haveentered upon the composition of a work which appeared as aposthumous publication in 1817, under the title of ‘TheSexagenarian; or, the Recollections of a Literary Life;’and which contains the following note:—

“Dr. Parr branded Beloe as an ingrate and aslanderer.  He says, ‘The worthy and enlightenedArchdeacon Nares disdained to have any concern in this infamouswork.’  The Rev. Mr. Rennell, of Kensington, couldknow but little of Beloe; but, having read his slanderous book,Mr. R., who is a sound scholar, an orthodox clergyman, and a mostanimated writer, would have done well not to have written a sortof postscript.  From motives of regard and respect forBeloe’s amiable widow, Dr. Parr abstained from refutingB.’s wicked falsehoods; but Dr. Butler, of Shrewsbury,repelled them very ably in the ‘MonthlyReview.’”

At No. 46 Brompton Row, Mr. John Reeve, an exceedingly popularlow comedian, died, on the 24th of January, 1838, at the earlyage of forty.  Social habits led to habits of intemperance,and poor John was theBottle Imp of every theatre he everplayed in.  “The last time I saw him,”p. 43saysMr. Bunn, in his ‘Journal of the Stage,’ “hewas posting at a rapid rate to a city dinner, and, on his drawingup to chat, I said, ‘Well, Reeve, how do you find yourselfto-day?’ and he returned for answer, ‘The lord-mayorfinds me to-day!’”

Brompton Grove commences on thesouth, or left-hand side of the main Fulham Road, immediatelybeyond the Red Lion (before mentioned as opposite to 28 BromptonRow), and continues to the Bunch of Grapes public-house, whichwas pulled down in August, and rebuilt in September, 1844,opposite to No. 54 Brompton Row, and in the wall of whichpublic-house was placed a stone, with “Yeoman’s Row, 1767,” engravedupon it—the name of a street leading to the“Grange,” and, in 1794, the address of MichaelNovosielski, the architect of the Italian Opera House.  Inthat year he exhibited, in the Royal Academy, three architecturaldesigns, viz:—

“558.  Elevation of the Opera House, Haymarket;

“661.  Section of the New Concert Room at theHaymarket; and

“663.  Ceiling of the New Concert Room at the OperaHouse.”

But of Novosielski and the Grange more hereafter.

Brompton Grove now consists of two rows of houses, standing alittle way back from the main road, between which rows there wasa green space (1811), now occupied by shops, which range close tothe footway, and have a street, called Grove Place, in thecentre.

Upper Brompton Grove, or that division of the Grovenearest London, consists of seven houses, of which No. 4p.44was the abode of Major Shadwell Clerke, who hasreflected literary lustre upon the ‘United Service,’by the able and judicious manner in which he conducted for somany years the periodical journal distinguished by thatname.  Major Clerke died 19th April, 1849.

Lower Brompton Grove consisted of three houses only in1844, numbered 8, 9, and 10; the 11 of former days being ofsuperior size, and once known as “Grove House.” The 12, which stood a considerable way behind it, as the“Hermitage,” and the 13, as the “House next tothe Bunch of Grapes,” all of which, except No. 8, claim apassing remark.

In No. 9, where he had long resided, died, on the 12th ofAugust, 1842, Mr. John Sidney Hawkins, at the age ofeighty-five.  He was the eldest son of Sir John Hawkins, thewell-known author of the ‘History of Music,’ and oneof the biographers of Dr. Johnson.  Mr. Hawkins was brotherof Letitia Matilda Hawkins, the popular authoress, and a lady ofwhom the elder Disraeli once remarked, that she was “theredeeming genius of her family.”  Mr. Hawkins,however, was an antiquary of considerable learning, research, andindustry; but his temper was sour and jealous, and, throughouthis whole and long literary career, from 1782 to 1814, he appearsto have been embroiled in trifling disputes and immaterialvindications of his father or himself.

No. 10 Brompton Grove, now occupied by the “Sisters ofCompassion,” was the residence of James Petit Andrews,Esq., younger brother of Sir Joseph Andrews, Bart., and one ofthe magistrates of Queen Square Police Office; ap.45gentleman remarkable for his humane feelings as well asfor his literary taste.  His exertions, following up thoseof Jonas Hanway, were the occasion of procuring an Act ofParliament in favour of chimney-sweep apprentices.  Mr.Andrews was the author of a volume of ancient and modernanecdotes in 1789, to which a supplemental volume appeared thefollowing year.  He also published a ‘History of GreatBritain, connected with the Chronology of Europe;’[45a] and a continuation of Henry’s‘History of Great Britain:’[45b] soon after the appearance of which hedied, on the 6th of August, 1797.

Grove House (called in 1809 and 1810, as already mentioned,No. 11 Brompton Grove), was, for many years, the residence of SirJohn Macpherson, Bart.; and here he died, at an advanced age, onthe 12th of January, 1821.

Grove House

In 1781 he was appointed Member of the Supreme Council ofBengal, and when proceeding to the East Indies, in the‘Valentine,’ Indiaman, distinguished himself in anaction with the French fleet in Praya Bay.  Sir John, whowas a very large man, to encourage the sailors to stand to theirguns, promised and paid them from his own pocket five guineas aman, which, coupled with his bravery during the action, sopleased the seamen, that one ofp. 46them swore“his soul must be as big as his body,” and the jokesoccasioned by this burst of feeling terminated only with Sir JohnMacpherson’s life.  “Fine soles!—soles, amatch for Macpherson’s!” was a Bromptonfishmonger’s greeting to Sir John, etc.  In theneighbourhood of Brompton he was known by thesobriquet of“the Gentle Giant,” from his usually riding a verysmall pony, flourishing in the most determined manner a huge oakstick over the little animal’s head, but, of course, nevertouching it with his club.

Upon the after-dinner conversation at Grove House of Mr. HughBoyd rests chiefly that gentleman’s claim to be consideredas one of the many authors of ‘Junius.’  Hishost, having temporarily retired from table, Boyd’s wordswere, “that Sir John Macpherson little knew he wasentertaining in his mansion a political writer, whose sentimentswere once the occasion of a chivalrous appeal from Sir John toarms,”—immediately adding, “I am the authorof ‘Junius.’”  The will of Sir JohnMacpherson is a remarkable document, and contains the followingtribute to the character of George IV.:—

“I conclude this, my last will andtestament, in expressing my early and unalterable admiration ofhis Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, the truly gloriousreigning prince of the British empire; and I request my executorsto wait upon his royal highness immediately after my decease, andto state to him, as I do now, that I have bequeathed to his royalhighness my celebrated antique statue of Minerva, which he oftenadmired, with any one of my antique rings that would please hisroyal highness.  I likewise request you to assure his royalhighness that I will leave him certain papers, which prove to ademonstration that the glorious system which he has realised forhis country and the world, in his difficult reign of eight years,was the early system of his heart and his ambition.”

p.47The large room on the east side of Grove House, shown inthe annexed sketch, was used as the drawing-room, and measuredthirty-two feet by eighteen.  It was built by Sir JohnMacpherson for the purpose of entertaining the Prince Regent.

Grove House from the East (1844)

Grove House was afterwards occupied by Mr. Wilberforce, who,in his diary of the 2nd of July, 1823, notes, “Tookpossession of our new house at Brompton.”

Mr. Wilberforce remained there about a year, and his successorin the tenancy was Mr. Jerdan, the agreeable and well-knowneditor of the ‘Literary Gazette’(1817–50).  This house, pulled down in 1846, stoodupon the ground which now forms the road entrance to OvingtonSquare.

A narrow lane, which ran down by the west side of Grove House,led to the Hermitage, a retreat of the much admired MadameCatalani during her sojourn this country, and subsequentlyconverted into an asylum for insane persons.  This buildingwas pulled down in 1844, and Grove Place has been erected on itssite.

The Hermitage (1844)

p.48In the house (No. 13 Brompton Grove) which stood alittle way back from the road, between Grove House and the Grapespublic-house, and which was taken down in December, 1844, and inthe previous June, when sketched, occupied by a stone-mason, Mr.Banim lodged from May, 1822, to October, 1824. No. 13 Brompton Grove (1844)While residing here, he was engaged in contributing to andediting a short-lived weekly paper, entitled the ‘LiteraryRegister,’ the first number of which appeared on the 6th ofJuly, 1822, and which publication terminated with theforty-fourth, on the 3rd of May, 1823, when Banim devoted hisattention to preparing the ‘Tales of the O’HaraFamily’ for the press.  It is a remarkable localcoincidence, that Gerald Griffin, who

“To his own mind had lived amystery,”

the contemporary rival of Banim, as an Irish novelist anddramatist, should have immediately succeeded him in the tenancyof “13 Brompton Grove,” as this house was sometimescalled.

“About this period (1825) he [Griffin] tookquiet, retired lodgings, at a house at Brompton, now astonemason’s, close by Hermitage Lane, which separated itfrom the then residence of the editor of the ‘LiteraryGazette,’ and a literary intercourse rather than a personalintimacy, though of a most agreeable nature, grew up betweenthem.”[48]

p.49On the 10th of November, 1824, Griffin, writing to hisbrother, commences a letter full of literary gossipwith,—

“Since my last I have visited Mr. J---several times.  The last time, he wished me to dine withhim, which I happened not to be able to do; and was very sorryfor it, for his acquaintance is to me a matter of greatimportance, not only from the engine he wields—and aformidable one it is, being the most widely-circulated journal inEurope—but, also, because he is acquainted with all theprincipal literary characters of the day, and a very pleasantkind of man.”

To the honest support of the ‘Literary Gazette’ atthis critical period in Griffin’s life may be ascribed thestruggle which he made for fame and fortune through the blindpath of literary distinction.  He came a raw Irish lad tothe metropolis, with indistinct visions of celebrity floatingthrough his poetical mind; or, as he candidly confesseshimself,—

“A young gentleman, totally unknown, even toa single family in London, with a few pounds in one pocket and abrace of tragedies in the other, supposing that the one will sethim up before the others are exhausted,” which, he admits,“is not a very novel, but a very laughable,delusion.”

Banim’s kindness—his sympathy, indeed, forGriffin, deserves notice.

“I cannot tell you here,” writes thelatter, “the many, many instances in which Banim has shownhis friendship since I wrote last; let it suffice to say, that heis the sincerest, heartiest, most disinterested being thatbreathes.  His fireside is the only one where I enjoyanything like social life or home.  I go out (to BromptonGrove) occasionally in an evening, and talk or read for somehours, or have a bed, and leave next day.”

Again, in a letter dated 31st of March, 1824, Griffinsays:—

p. 50“What would I have done if Ihad not found Banim?  I should have instantly despaired on****’s treatment of me.  I should never be tired oftalking about and thinking of Banim.  Mark me! he is a man,the only one I have met since I left Ireland, almost.  Wewalked over Hyde Park together on St. Patrick’s Day, andrenewed our home recollections by gathering shamrocks, andplacing them in our hats, even under the eye of JohnBull.”

Michael’s Place, on the sameside of the way with the Bunch of Grapes, is railed off from themain Fulham Road, although a public footpath admits the passengeras far as No. 14.  It consists of forty-four houses, and wasa building speculation of Michael Novosielski, already mentioned,whose Christian name it retains, having been commenced by him in1786.  But the shells of his houses for many years remainedunfinished, and in 1811, the two last houses (Nos. 43 and 44) ofMichael’s Place were not built.  Novosielski died atRamsgate, in 1795; and his widow, for some years after his death,occupied No. 13.

No. 8 Michael’s PlaceNo. 8 Michael’s Place, to be recognized by itsbay-windows, was, for several years, the residence of the Rev.Dr. Croly, now rector of St. Stephen’s, Walbrook,distinguished in the pulpit by his eloquence, admired as a writerin almost every walk of English literature, and respected andbeloved by those who know him.  Croly’s fame must liveand die with ourp. 51language, which he has grasped withan unrivalled command.

Brompton Square is opposite to thecommencement of Michael’s Place, to which it will benecessary to return, after a visit to the square.

At No. 6 has lived Mr. John Baldwin Buckstone, theactor-author, or author-actor, so well known and esteemed by thepublic.  And at No. 14 has resided Mr. Edward Fitzwilliam,the musical composer, who died on the 19th of January, 1857, atthe early age of 33.

No. 21 was, between the years 1829 and 1833, the residence ofSpagnoletti, the leader of the Opera band.  He was succeededin the tenancy by Mrs. Chatterly, a lively and accomplishedactress, who continued to occupy the same house after hermarriage with Mr. Francis Place.

Nos. 22, 23, 24, Brompton SquareAt No. 22 (which now belongs to the well-known and muchrespected actor Mr. James Vining, and is at present tenanted byMr. Shirley Brooks) George Colman the younger died on the 26th ofOctober, 1836, at the age of 74, having removed to this housefrom No. 5 Melina Place, Kent Road.  “He ceased toexist on the 17th of October,p. 521836,”says his medical attendant, in a letter published in the memoirsof the Colman family.  But this is an error, as on the 19thof October he appears to have written to Mr. Bunn.  The lastearthly struggle of George Colman has been thusdescribed:—

“It has never fallen to my lot to witness inthe hour of death so much serenity of mind, such perfectphilosophy, or resignation more complete.  Up to within anhour of his decease he was perfectly sensible of his danger, andbore excruciating pain with the utmost fortitude.

“At one period of his life a more popular man was not inexistence,” observes Mr. Bunn; “for the festive boardof the prince or the peer was incomplete without Mr.Colman.  He has left behind him a perpetuity of fame in hisdramatic works; and much is it to be lamented that no chroniclehas been preserved of his various and most extraordinaryjeux-d’esprit.  He has, moreover, left behindquite enough of renown, could he lay claim to none other, to befound in the following tribute from the pen of LordByron:—‘I have met George Colman occasionally, andthought him extremely pleasant and convivial. Sheridan’s humour, or rather wit, was always saturnine, andsometimes savage; he never laughed (at least that I saw and Ihave watched him), but Colman did.  If I had tochoose, and could not have both at a time, I should say,let me begin the evening with Sheridan, and finish it withColman.  Sheridan for dinner, Colman for supper. Sheridan for claret or port, but Colman for everything, from themadeira and champagne at dinner, the claret with a layer of portbetween the glasses, up to the punch of the night, and down tothe grog or gin-and-water of daybreak.  Sheridan was agrenadier company of life-guards, but Colman a wholeregiment—of light infantry, to be sure, but still aregiment.’”

The sale of Colman’s effects took place on the 29th ofNovember, 1837; among the pictures sold was the well-knownportrait of George Colman the elder, by Sir Joshua Reynolds,which has been engraved; another by Gainsborough, also engraved;a third in crayons, by Rosalba;p. 53and a fourthby Zoffani, which formerly belonged to Garrick, a highly-finishedminiature of Shakspeare, by Ozias Humphrey, executed in 1784 (acopy of which, made for the Duchess of Chandos, sold at her salefor £40); some watercolour drawings, by Emery, Mrs. Terry,and others; some engravings; more than 1,000 volumes of Frenchand English books; and a collection of miscellanies, includingthe MSS. of the elder Colman’s most admired productions,and several by George Colman the younger,—amounting in allto twenty-six pieces.  John Reeve bought largely of thebooks; but before two months had elapsed Reeve himself was nomore.

No. 23 Brompton Square is occupied by Mr. William Farren, whowas for a long period the unrivalled representative of old menupon the stage,[53] and who took his farewell at theHaymarket Theatre in 1855; and No. 24, between the years 1840 and1843, was the residence of Mr. Payne Collier, who has given tothe public several editions of Shakspeare, and who has been longdistinguished by his profound knowledge of dramatic literatureand history, and his extensive acquaintance with the early poetryof England.

Mr. Collier’s house, in Brompton Square, stood betweenthat which Mr. William Farren occupies, and one (No. 25) of whichMr. Farren was proprietor, and has now been sold.  At No. 28resides Mr. William Frogatt Robson, Solicitor and Comptroller ofDroits of Admiralty.  Mr. Williamp. 54Farren hasresided at No. 30, next door to Mr. Henry Luttrell (No. 31),“the great London wit,” as Sir Walter Scott termshim, well known in the circles of literature as the author ofmany epigrams, and of a volume of graceful poetry, entitled‘Advice to Julia,’ and who died on 19th December,1851, aged 86.

In addition to these literary and dramatic associations ofBrompton Square, Liston resided for some time at No. 40, Mr.Yates and Mr. John Reeve at 57 and 58; and that pair of comictheatrical gems, Mr. and Mrs. Keeley, have been inhabitants ofNo. 19.

First graveBrompton New Church, a littlebeyond the Square, is dedicated to the Holy Trinity.  Thearchitect was Mr. Donaldson, and the first stone was laid inOctober, 1826.  On the 6th of June, 1829, the Bishop ofLondon consecrated this church and its burial-ground, which hadbeen a flower-garden.  When the first grave was made in themonth following, many of the flowers still appeared among thegrass; and, after viewing it, Miss Landon wrote the followingverses.  The “first grave” is in the extremesouth-west of the corner churchyard, close to the narrow pathwaythat skirts the wall, leaving only space for a gravebetween.  The inscriptionp. 55on the stonewhich originally marked the “first grave,”was,—

sacred
to the memory of
mr. iohn corpe
of this parish
of st. george’s hanoversquare
who departed this life
18th of july 1829
aged 51years.

“A single grave! the only one
   In this unbroken ground,
Where yet the garden leaf and flower
   Are lingering around.
A single grave!—my heart has felt
   How utterly alone
In crowded halls, where breathed for me
   Not one familiar tone.

“The shade where forest-trees shut out
   All but the distant sky,—
I’ve felt the loneliness of night,
   When the dark winds pass’d by.
My pulse has quicken’d with its awe,
   My lip has gasp’d for breath;
But what were they to such as this—
   The solitude of death?

“A single grave!—we half forget
   How sunder human ties,
When round the silent place of rest
   A gather’d kindred lies.
We stand beneath the haunted yew,
   And watch each quiet tomb,
And in the ancient churchyard feel
   Solemnity, not gloom!

“The place is purified withhope—
   The hope, that is, of prayer;
And human love, and heavenward thought,
   And pious faith, are there!
p.56The wild flowers spring amid the grass,
   And many a stone appears
Carved by affection’s memory,
   Wet with affection’s tears.

“The golden chord which binds us all
   Is loosed, not rent in twain;
And love, and hope, and fear, unite
   To bring the past again.
Butthis grave is so desolate,
   With no remembering stone,
No fellow-graves for sympathy,—
   ’Tis utterly alone!

“I do not know who sleeps beneath,
   His history or name,
Whether, if lonely in his life,
   He is in death the same,—
Whether he died unloved, unmourn’d,
   The last leaf on the bough,
Or if some desolated hearth
   Is weeping for him now?

“Perhaps this is too fanciful,
   Though single be his sod,
Yet not the less it has around
   The presence of his God!
It may be weakness of the heart,
   But yet its kindliest, best;
Better if in our selfish world
   It could be less repress’d.

“Those gentler charities which draw
   Man closer with his kind,
Those sweet humilities which make
   The music which they find:
How many a bitter word ’t would hush,
   How many a pang ’t would save,
If life more precious held those ties
   Which sanctify the grave.”

p.57Now (1860) the grave-stone has received two additionalinscriptions, and the character of the upright stone has beenaltered.

Reeve’s GraveCorpe was a ladies’ shoemaker, and his son carried onthat business at No. 126 Mount Street, Berkeley Square, after thefather’s death.  While sketching the grave, the sextoncame up, and observed, “No one has ever noticed that grave,sir, before, so much as to draw it out for a pattern, as Isuppose you are doing.”

John Reeve’s grave (“alas, poor Yorick!”) isin the first avenue at the back of the church, to the left hand,and immediately at the edge of the path that runs parallel withthe north side of the building.  The stone, which is similarto others in the same vicinity, is inscribed:—

inmemory
of
iohn reeve esq.
late of the
theatre royal adelphi.
obiit january. 24th. 1838.

alsoof
iohn reeve esq.
uncle of the above
obiit jany. 22nd. 1831aged71.

In the central path, leading from the Church Tower, is thegrave of Harriet Elizabeth Farren, who died 16th ofp. 58June,1857, aged 68.  She made her first appearance in London in1813, as Desdemona.

Bell and Horns signClose to Brompton New Church, at a public-house called theBell and Horns,[58] the road branches off again; thatbranch which goes straight forward leading to Old Brompton,Earl’s Court, Kensington, and North End, Fulham.  Theturn to the left, or bend to the south, being the main FulhamRoad.  Here, till within the last few years, was standingthe stump of an old tree, shown in the accompanying sketch. StumpA cluster of trees at the commencement of the Old BromptonRoad have also been removed, and the road has been considerablywidened.  On the right-hand side, adjoining Brompton NewChurch, is the Oratory of St. Philip Neri, a Roman CatholicEstablishment of considerable extent, which stands on the groundonce occupied by Mr. Pollard’s school.  It was openedon 22nd March, 1851, and was originally located in King WilliamStreet, Strand.  It is bounded on the east by the avenue oflime trees leading up to Holy Trinity Church, on the north by itscemetery, on the west by the South Kensington Museum, and on thesouth by the road, which has been widened by the commissioners toeighty feet.  The superior inp. 59London is theRev. F. W. Faber, and at Birmingham, the Rev. J. H. Newman,D.D.  The building, which does not show its size toadvantage from the road, is erected in the shape of the letterT.  Some idea of the scale on which the building is executedmay be gathered from the following dimensions.  The oratory72 feet long, 30 wide, 29 high.  The library 72 feet long,30 wide, 23 high.  The refectory 50 feet long, 30 wide, 28high.  The corridors of the house 164 feet long, 9 wide, 14high.  The architect is Mr. Scoles.  Next to theoratory is the South Kensington Museum, which was built upon theKensington Gore estate,Oratory and Museumpurchased by the Royal Commissioners with the surplus fundsderived from the Exhibition of 1851.  It was opened on the24th June, 1857, and is a result of the School of Design, foundedat Somerset House in 1838.  It is the head-quarters of theGovernment Department of Science and Art, previously deposited inMarlborough House, which is under the managementp. 60ofMr. Henry Cole.  The collections are temporarily placed in arange of boiler-roofed buildings, hence the term “Bromptonboilers” has been applied to them.  There arespecimens here of ornamental art, an architectural, trade, andeconomical museum; a court of modern sculpture, and the galleryof British Art, founded on the munificent gift of Mr. JohnSheepshanks.  Mr. Sheepshanks having bestowed on the nationa collection of 234 oil paintings, mostly by modern Britishartists, and some drawings, etc., the whole formed by himself,including some of the most popular works of Wilkie, Mulready, SirEdwin Landseer, Leslie, and other eminent artists of the Englishschool.  To these have been since added, in several largerooms, the Turner Collection, and the pictures from the VernonGallery; also the collection bequeathed to the nation by the lateMr. Jacob Bell, and the pictures by British artists removed fromthe National Gallery; all which are well lighted from theroof.  The objects of ornamental art consist of medievalfurniture and decoration, painted glass, plaster casts,electrotype copies, photographs, engravings, and drawings, etc.,the whole designed with the view of aiding general education, andof diffusing among all classes those principles of science andart which are calculated to advance the individual interests ofthe country, and to elevate the character of the people:facilities are afforded for taking copies of objects uponapplication at the Art Library.  The Educational collectionsformed by the Government, which are in the central portion of thebuilding, comprise specimens of scientific instruments, objectsof natural history, models, casts, and ap. 61library;refreshment and waiting rooms are provided; and there arelectures delivered in a building devoted to that purpose. The admission, which is from ten till four, five or six,according to the season, is free on Monday, Tuesday, andSaturday, also on Monday and Tuesday evening, from seven tillten, when the galleries are lighted; on Wednesday, Thursday, andFriday, being students’ days, the admission is 6d.

In form the building is rectangular, the centre or nave is 42feet wide, and is open from the floor to the roof.  Alongthe aisles galleries run, access to which is obtained by twolarge central staircases at the ends of the building, which isfor the most part lighted from the roofs.  There is ampleventilation, and by means of hot water pipes, the building isheated when required.  The exhibition space in floor andgalleries is nearly one acre and a half, exclusive of the wallspace in the galleries and aisles.  The arrangement, it maybe seen from this description, is much the same as that adoptedin the Great Exhibition of 1851.  There are separatecatalogues for each department to be had, which give the visitorall necessary information.  The building was constructedfrom designs and drawings prepared by Messrs. Charles D. Youngand Co. of Great George Street, Westminster.  Opposite theMuseum is Thurloe Place.  No. 1 may be mentioned as theresidence of Mr. Henry Holl, well known some years ago as thelight comedian of the Haymarket Theatre.  That gentleman hasnow retired from the profession, but in addition to some dramaticproductions written many years since, he is the author of two orthree successful pieces recently produced.  It is not theintentionp. 62of the writer to follow the course ofthe Old Brompton Road, but he will at once return to the mainroad after alluding to the newly-formed magnificent approachesfrom this point to Kensington, by Exhibition Road and PrinceAlbert’s Road, on the site of Brompton Park, now broken up.[62]  A winter garden is in course offormation here, and the Horticultural Society intend toappropriate part of the ground for their annualfêtes.  The total amount expended on the purchase andlaying out of the Kensington Gore Estate from 1851 to 1856inclusive, was £277,309.

p.63CHAPTER II.

from the bell andhorns,brompton,to little chelsea.

To return to the continuation ofMichael’s Place.  It is dividedbetween Nos. 11 and 12 byMichael’sGrove, which led to Brompton Grange, for some years theseat of the favourite veteran vocalist, Braham, who made hisappearance as a public singer at the age of ten years, and so farback as 1787.  The Grange was taken down in October 1843,and, in the course of twelve months, its spacious grounds werecovered by a decided crescent and other buildings.  BromptonGrange, which was constructed by Novosielski for his ownresidence, was, previous to Mr. Braham’s tenancy, occupiedby a gentleman of large fortune and weak nerves, which were mostpainfully affected by the tone of a bell.  Afterconsiderable research, this spot was selected for his Londonresidence, in the belief that there he would be secure fromannoyance.  But the folly of human anticipation was speedilyillustrated by the building of Brompton Church on the north sideof his abode, and of Chelsea New Church on the west; so that,whatever way the wind blew,

“The sound of the church-goingbell”

p.64was certain of being wafted to the Grange, which was gotrid of in consequence.

From Michael’s Grove,BromptonCrescent is nearly a straight row of twenty-five houses,and forms an angle to the line of the main Fulham Road, unitingwith Michael’s Place at “Crescent House,” wherethe carriage communication was formerly interrupted by a bar, inplace of which a post supporting two lamps is nowsubstituted.

No. 9 was for some time in the occupation of Dr. Oswald Wood,the translator (1835) of Von Hammer’s ‘History of theAssassins,’ and who died at the early age of thirty-eight,on the 5th of November, 1842, in the West Indies, where he heldthe appointment of Provost-Marshal of Antigua.

At No. 13 Brompton Crescent resided Charles Incledon, therival of his neighbour Braham, whose singing he was wont todesignate as “Italianised humbug;” declaring that noone but himself, Charles Incledon, knew how to sing a Britishballad: and it must be admitted, that “The Storm” and“Black-eyed Susan,” as sung by Incledon, produced adeep impression on the public mind.  He was a native ofCornwall, and the son of a medical gentleman.  As achorister, under the tuition of Jackson, in Exeter Cathedral,Incledon acquired his knowledge of music; for when he was fifteenhe entered the Royal Navy, in which he served in the West Indiesfrom 1779 to 1783, when he abandoned the naval profession, andjoined a theatrical company at Southampton.  After a popularprofessional career of upwards of forty years as a public singer,Incledon died at Worcester, on the 11th of February, 1826.

Of Incledon many amusing anecdotes are told, chieflyp.65caused by his inordinate vanity, and his mentalsingleness of purpose.  He thought of no one but himself; hesaw nothing beyond the one and immediate object at which hegrasped; and yet these faults were caused rather by naturalweakness of intellect than by an unkind or selfishdisposition.  In fact, Incledon lived and died a pettedservant of the public; which administered intoxicating draughtsof applause to his self-esteem.

Mr. G. Rodwell, already mentioned as having been an inhabitantof No. 14 Brompton Row, resided at No. 15 Brompton Crescent, in1830.

No. 20 Brompton Crescent was, between the years 1822 and 1844,occupied by Mr. Planché, well known as, perhaps, the mostprolific and skilful dramatic writer of the day, and as agentleman of high literary and antiquarian attainments.  Hisconnexion with the last musical efforts of the German composerWeber, in his opera of ‘Oberon,’ which was producedat Covent Garden on the 12th of May, 1826,[65] cannot be forgotten; and toPlanché’s knowledge of costume and taste forpictorial effects the English stage is deeply indebted.  Inthe drawing-room of this house have some of our most agreeableacting dramas been composed, and nothing could have been, in itsstyle and appointments, more typical of Planché’sdialogue than was the apartment—smart and neat, fit for alloccasions, and suited in a moment to the present purpose,whatever that might be.  It was polished and elegant; butthere was nothing superfluous, beyond a bit of exquisite china onthep.66mantel-piece, or a picture, excellent in its way, on thewall; something which pleased the eye, and which the mindreceived and relished like a nicely-pointed joke.  Awell-painted portrait of Planché himself, by Briggs, theRoyal Academician, which has been engraved, hung opposite to thefireplace; and, as if to carry out the similitude betweenPlanché’s writings and the place where they werewritten, folding-doors revealed a back drawing-room, which, likehis memory, was richly stored with the works of heralds andantiquaries, and of our elder dramatists and poets, sojudiciously arranged, that in a moment he was certain ofproducing the precise passage or the effect which hedesired.  At the same time so completely was this littlebattery of knowledge masked under quaint bindings and tastefulcovers, that no one suspected what a mine of learning laybeneath; nor, like his own mental resources, was a volumedisplayed without cause, or unclasped without its effect.

Speaking earnestly to Planché respecting the pains andpleasures of authorship, L. E. L. once said, “I would givethis moment all the fame of what I have written, or ever shallwrite, for one roar of applause from a crowded house, such as youmust have heard a thousand times.”

Mr. Planché afterwards removed to a new and detachedhouse, built on the site of Brompton Grange.  He has nowquitted the neighbourhood.

Mr. C. J. Richardson, an architect, whose publicationsillustrative of Tudor architecture and domestic Englishantiquities have materially tended to diffuse a feeling ofrespect for the works of our ancestors, and to forward thegrowing desire to preserve and restore edifices which timep.67and circumstances have spared to the country, hasresided at No. 22 Brompton Crescent.  At No. 28 in thiscrescent, Mrs. Liston died in 1854.

The continuation ofMichael’sPlace, which we left on our right to visit Michael’sGrove and Brompton Crescent, is the corner house, now Dr.Cahill’s and Mr. Hewett’s.  At No. 12, LewisSchiavonetti, a distinguished engraver, died on the 7th of June,1810, at the age of fifty-five.  He was a native of Bassano,in the Venetian territory, and the eldest son of a stationer,whose large family and moderate circumstances made him gladlyaccept the offer of Julius Golini, a painter of some repute, toreceive his son, at the age of thirteen, for instruction in thearts. No. 12 Michael’s PlaceIn three years after, Golini expired in the arms of hisyouthful pupil.  Upon the death of his master he determinedto seek the patronage of Count Remaudini, who had givenemployment to Bartolozzi and Volpato, and began to study themechanical process of engraving, under a poor man named Lorio,who, unable to support himself by his profession, officiated assacristan to a church, and could offer him no betteraccommodation for study than the sacristy.  Thecircumstances of Schiavonetti not permitting him to seek forhigher instruction, hep. 68remained with this master abouttwelve months, when, finding that he had learned all that poorLorio was able to teach, and feeling an aversion to workoccasionally among dead bodies, he determined to alter hissituation.  A copy of a ‘Holy Family,’ fromBartolozzi, after Carlo Maratta, gained Schiavonetti immediateemployment from Count Remaudini, and attracted the notice ofSuntach, an engraver and printseller in opposition toRemaudini.

About this time there came to Bassano a Mr. Testolini, ofVicenza, a wretched engraver of architecture, but a man ofconsummate craft and address.  He became acquainted withSchiavonetti at Suntach’s, and, finding in his genius andtractable disposition, a tool which he could use to greatadvantage, he engaged him to work at his house. Bartolozzi’s engravings in the chalk manner were then ingreat repute at Bassano, and Testolini made several abortiveattempts to discover the process.  His young friendsucceeded better, and imitated several of Bartolozzi’sprints to perfection; and Testolini took some ofSchiavonetti’s productions to the son of Bartolozzi atVenice, and passed them off as his own.  They gained him anintroduction to that artist, and an invitation to London, wherehe was then in full occupation, and his works highlyappreciated.  The change of climate seems to havedeteriorated the talents of Testolini; but such was hisadroitness that he gained a complete ascendancy over the easytemper of Bartolozzi, and lived in his house at North End,Fulham, about three years.  During that time, finding thatyet more important advantages might be derived from the aid ofhis former friend, he made several propositions to Schiavonettito comep. 69to London.  These were for atime declined: the rising fame of the young artist caused histalents to be better appreciated, and some Venetian noblemenoffered him a pension and constant employment if he would abandonhis proposed emigration.  Testolini, to frustrate this,induced Bartolozzi to write a letter of persuasion, partlydictated by himself; and, confident of its effect, he set out forItaly to bring Schiavonetti over.  During his absenceBartolozzi gained an insight into his real character andinterested views, and, on his return with hisprotégé, told him that his house was nolonger open to him, but that Schiavonetti was welcome to considerit his home.  Testolini, however, having found a house inSloane Square, soon persuaded Schiavonetti that it would bebetter for him to follow his fortune than to remain withBartolozzi, to which Schiavonetti consented.  Thiscircumstance terminated the connexion between Bartolozzi andSchiavonetti; and shortly after the reputation of the latter asan engraver became established in London, where he conductedevery transaction he was engaged in with an uprightness andintegrity that cause his memory to be equally respected as agentleman and as an artist.  The ‘MadreDolorosa,’ after Vandyke; the portrait of that master inthe character of Paris; Michael Angelo’s cartoon of the‘Surprise of the Soldiers on the banks of the Arno;’a series of etchings from designs by Blake, illustrative ofBlair’s ‘Grave,’ with a portrait of Blake afterPhillips; the ‘Landing of the British troops inEgypt,’ from De Loutherbourg; and the etching of the‘Canterbury Pilgrims,’ from Stothard’s admiredpicture, are some of the most esteemed works of LewisSchiavonetti. p. 70His funeral, which took place on the14th June 1810, from Michael’s Place, was attended by West,the president, Phillips, Tresham, and other members of the RoyalAcademy, by his countryman Vendramini, and almost all thedistinguished engravers of the day, with other artists andfriends to art.

The greater portion of No. 13, Michael’s Place, is shownin the sketch of No. 12, and the former may be mentioned as theresidence of the widow of the builder, Madame Novosielski, whodied here on the 30th November, 1820.  This was the addressof Miss Helen Faucit, immediately previous to her successfulappearance in the English drama before a French audience, and isat present in the occupation of Mr. Weigall, an artist whoseworks are highly prized.

Mrs. Billington, the well-known singer and actress, hasresided at No. 15.

Miss Pope, an actress of considerable reputation, died at No.17, Michael’s Place, on the 30th July, 1818, agedseventy-five.  Her talents had been cultivated by thecelebrated Mrs. Clive, and she was distinguished by the notice ofGarrick.  As a representative of old women, Miss Pope issaid to have been unrivalled; and, for more than half a century,she remained constant to the boards of Drury Lane Theatre, neverhaving performed at any other with the exception of a season atDublin and another at Liverpool.

Mr. John Heneage Jesse, in 1842, while engaged in thepublication of ‘Memoirs of the Court of England, from theRevolution of 1688 to the Death of George II.,’ 3 vols.8vo, a continuation of his ‘History of the Courtp. 71ofEngland during the Reign of the Stuarts,’ lodged at No.18.

Mr. Yates, the manager of the Adelphi Theatre, and an actor ofconsiderable and varied powers, resided at No. 21,Michael’s Place, immediately previous to his accepting ashort engagement in Ireland, where he ruptured a blood-vessel,and returned to England in so weak a state that he died on the21st June, 1842, a few days after his arrival at the EustonHotel, Euston Square, from whence it was considered, when hereached London, imprudent to remove him to Brompton.  He wasin the forty-fifth year of his age, and made his first appearancein London at Covent Garden on the 7th November, 1818.  Onthe 30th November, 1823, Mr. Yates married Miss Brunton, anexemplary woman and an accomplished actress, who had retired fromthe profession for some years previous to her death, aged 61, on30th August, 1860.  Before Mr. Yates’ tenancy, No. 21was the residence of Mr. Liston, whose comic humour will long beremembered on the stage.

Mrs. Davenport, a clever actress and an admirablerepresentative of old women, died at No. 22, on 8th May, 1843,aged eighty-four.  On the 25th of May, 1830, she retiredfrom the stage, after an uninterrupted service of thirty-sixyears at Covent Garden Theatre, where she took her “first,last, and only benefit,” performing the Nurse in‘Romeo and Juliet.’

No. 25, Michael’s Place, may be pointed out as the housein which Miss Pope, “the other delicious old woman,”dwelt previous to her removal to No. 17; and No. 26, as thelodgings of Mrs. Mathews, when occupied in thep. 72compositionof the ‘Memoirs’ of her husband,[72] the eminent comedian,—

“A man so various, that he seemed tobe,
Not one, but all mankind’s epitome.”

At No. 33 died Madame Delille, in 1857, at an advancedage.  This lady was the mother of the late Mr. C. J.Delille, professor of the French language in Christ’sHospital and in the City of London School, and French examiner inthe University of London.  Mr. Delille’s FrenchGrammar is universally adopted by schools, in addition to his‘Répertoire Littéraire,’ and his‘Leçons et Modèles de PoésieFrançaise.’

The ground upon which Michael’s Place and BromptonCrescent are built was known by the name of “FlounderField,” from its usual moist and muddy state.  Thisfield contained fourteen acres, and is said to have been part ofthe estate of Alderman Henry Smith, which in this neighbourhoodwas upwards of eighty-four acres.  He was a native ofWandsworth, where he is buried.  It has been asserted that,from very humble circumstances, he rose to be an alderman ofLondon—from circumstances so humble, indeed, that Salmon,in his ‘Antiquities of Surrey,’ mentions that he hadbeen in early life whipped out of Mitcham parish for beggingthere.  Being a widower, and without children, he made overall his estates in 1620 to trustees for charitable purposes,reserving out of the produce £500 a-year for himself. He died in 1627–8, and the intent of his will appears tohave been to divide his estate equally between the poorest of hiskindred, and in casep. 73of any surplus it was to be appliedto the relief and ransom of poor captives.  Mr. Smith issaid, but we know little of the history of this benevolent andextraordinary man, to have himself suffered a long captivity inAlgiers.  No application having been made for many years toredeem captives, in 1772 an act of parliament was passed“to enable the trustees of Henry Smith, Esq., deceased, toapply certain sums of money to the relief of his poor kindred,and to enable the said trustees to grant building leases of anestate in the parishes of Kensington, Chelsea, and St.Margaret’s, Westminster.”

No. 1, North Terrace, leading into Alexander Square, was forsome time the residence of the celebrated “O.” Smith,who, though a great ruffian upon the stage, was in private liferemarkable for his quiet manners and his variedattainments.  At the end of this terrace is the WesternGrammar School.

Alexander Square, on the north orright-hand side of the main Fulham Road, between the Bell andHorns public-house and Pelham Crescent, consists of twenty-fourhouses built in the years 1827 and 1830, and divided by AlfredPlace: before each portion there is a respectable enclosure, andbehind numerous new streets, squares, and houses have been built,extending to the Old Brompton Road.

No. 19, Alexander Square, was the residence of CaptainGlascock, who commanded H.M.S. Tyne, and whose pen has enrichedthe nautical novel literature of England[73] with the same racy humour which hasdistinguished hisp. 74professional career.  Whencommanding in the Douro, some communications which Glascock hadoccasion to make to the Governor of Oporto not having receivedthat attention which the English captain considered was due tothem, and the governor having apologised for his deafness,Glascock replied that in future he would write to hisexcellency.  He did so, but the proceeding did not producethe required reply.  Glascock was then told that thegovernor’s memory was defective; so he wrote again, and twoletters remained unanswered.  In this state of things it wasintimated to Captain Glascock by a distinguished diplomatist,that, as his letters might not have been delivered, he ought towrite another.  “Certainly,” replied thatofficer; “my letters to his excellency, as you say, mightnot have been delivered, for I have had no report absolutely madeto me that they had ever reached his hands: but I will take carethis time there shall be no mistake in the delivery, for youshall see me attach my communication to a cannonball, the reportof which I can testify to my government; and, as my gunner is asure shot, his excellencywill (Glascock was an Irishman)have my epistle delivered into his hand.”  Thisintimation produced at once the desired effect of a satisfactoryreply and apology.

Captain Glascock was one of the inspectors under the PoorRelief Act in Ireland.  He died in 1847.

No. 24 Alexander Square is the residence of Mr. George Godwin,the editor of the ‘Builder,’ and one of the honorarysecretaries of the Art Union,—an association which hasexercised an important influence upon the progress of the finearts in England.  Mr. Godwin is likewisep. 75favourablyknown to the public as the author of several essays which evinceconsiderable professional knowledge, antiquarian research, and afertile fancy.

The bend of the Fulham Road terminates at

The AdmiralKeppel

The old Admiral Keppelpublic-house, from whence the road proceeds in a straightline to Little Chelsea; Marlborough Road and Keppel Street,leading to Chelsea, branching off at each side of thetavern.  Since this sketch was taken, the old building hasbeen pulled down (1856), and a large hotel erected on the samespot, by B. Watts, where, in addition to the usual comforts of aninn, hot and cold baths may be had.

In 1818 the Admiral Keppel courted the custom of passingtravellers by a poetical appeal to the feelings of both man andbeast:—

“Stop, brave boys, and quench yourthirst;
If you won’t drink, your horses murst.”

There was something rural in this: the distich was painted invery rude white letters on a small black board; and whenKeppel’s portrait, which swung in air, like England’sflag, braving

“The battle and the breeze,”

p.76was unhinged and placed against the front of the house,this board was appended as its motto.  Both, however, weredisplaced by the march of public-house improvement; theweather-beaten sign of the gallant admiral’s head wastransferred to a wall of the back premises, where its“faded form” might, until recently, have beenrecognised; but, though the legible record has perished,opusvatum durat.

Amelia Place is a row of ninehouses immediately beyond the Admiral Keppel.  Within thewalls of the last low house in the row, and the second with averandah, the Right Hon. John Philpot Curran died on the 14th ofOctober, 1817.  It had then a pleasant look-out upon greenfields and a nursery-garden, now occupied by PelhamCrescent.  Here it was, with the exception of a shortexcursion to Ireland, that Curran had resided during the twelvemonths previous to his death. No. 7 Amelia PlaceCurran’s public life may be said to have terminated in1806, when he accepted the office of Master of the Rolls inIreland, an appointment of £5000 a year.  Thissituation he retained until 1815, when his health required acessation from its laborious attendance.  Upon hisretirement from office, he “passed through thewatering-places with thep.77season,” and then fixed himself at No. 7, AmeliaPlace, Brompton, which house has now Kettle’s boot and shoewarehouse built out in front.  To no other contemporary penthan that of the Rev. George Croly can be ascribed the followingglowing sketch of Curran:—

“From the period in which Curran emergedfrom the first struggles of an unfriended man, labouring up ajealous profession, his history makes a part of the annals of hiscountry: once upon the surface, his light was always before theeye, it never sank and was never outshone.  With greatpowers to lift himself beyond the reach of that tumultuous andstormy agitation that must involve the movers of the public mindin a country such as Ireland then was, he loved to cling to theheavings of the wave; he, at least, never rose to that tranquilelevation to which his early contemporaries had one by oneclimbed; and never left the struggle till the storm had gonedown, it is to be hoped for ever.  This was his destiny, butit might have been his choice, and he was not without the reward,which, to an ambitious mind conscious of its eminent powers,might be more than equivalent to the reluctant patronage of thethrone.  To his habits legal distinction would have beenonly a bounty upon his silence; his limbs would have beenfettered by the ermine; but he had the compensation of boundlesspopular honour, much respect from the higher ranks of party, muchadmiration and much fear from the lower partizans.  InParliament he was the assailant most dreaded; in the law-courtshe was the advocate deemed the most essential; in both he was anobject of all the more powerful passions of man butrivalry,—

‘He stood alone and shonealone.’”

During Curran’s residence in Amelia Place he sufferedtwo slight apoplectic attacks; but he, nevertheless,“occasionally indulged in society, and was to his lastsparkle the most interesting, singular, and delightful of alltable companions.”  The forenoon he generally passedin a solitary ramble through the neighbouring fields and gardens(which have now disappeared), and in the evening he enjoyed thep.78conversation of a few friends; but, though thebrilliancy of his wit shone to the last, he seemed like one whohad outlived everything in life that was worth enjoying. This is exemplified in Curran’s melancholy repartee to hismedical attendant a few days before his decease.  The doctorremarked that his patient’s cough was not improved. “That is odd,” remarked Curran, “for I havebeen practising all night!”

On Thursday, the 9th of October, Curran dined abroad for thelast time with Mr. Richard (“Gentleman”) Jones,[78] of No. 14 Chapel Street, GrosvenorPlace, for the purpose of being introduced to George Colman“the Younger.”  The party, besides the host andhostess, consisted of Mr. Harris and Sir WilliamChatterton.  Colman that evening was unusually brilliant,anticipating, by apt quotation and pointed remark, almosteverything that Curran would have said.  One comment ofCurran’s, however, made a deep impression on allpresent.  Speaking of Lord Byron’s ‘Fare theewell, and if for ever,’ he observed that “hislordship first weeps over his wife, and then wipes his eyes withthe newspapers.”  He left the dinner-table early, and,on going upstairs to coffee, either affected not to know or didnot remember George Colman’s celebrity as a wit, andinquired of Mrs. Jones who that Mr. Colman was?  Mr. Harrisjoined them at this moment, and apologised for his friend Colmanengrossing so much of the conversation to himself, adding, thathe was the spoiled child of society, and that even the PrinceRegent listened with attention when George Colman talked. “Ay,” said Curran, with ap. 79melancholysmile, “I now know who Colman is; we must both sleep in thesame bed.”

The next morning Curran was seized with apoplexy, andcontinued speechless, though in possession of his senses, tillthe early part of Tuesday the 14th, when he sunk into lethargy,and towards evening died without a struggle; so tranquil, indeed,were the last moments of Curran, that those in the room wereunable to mark the precise time when his bright spirit passedaway from this earth.  His age has been variously stated atsixty-seven, sixty-eight, and seventy.

The first lodging which John Banim, the Irish novelist,temporarily occupied in England (April, 1822) was in the housewhere his illustrious countryman had breathed his last, and fromwhence Banim removed to 13, Brompton Grove, as alreadynoticed.  Banim’s first wish, when he found himself inEngland, was to visit the scene of Curran’s death; led tothe spot by a strong feeling of patriotic admiration, andfinding, by a bill in the window, that lodgings were to be letthere, he immediately took them, “that he might dream ofhis country,” as he energetically told the writer,“with the halo of Curran’s memory aroundhim.”

Dropped Capitals for InPelham Crescent, which consists oftwenty-seven houses, and is divided in the centre, between Nos.14 and 15, by Pelham Place, both Crescent and Place built uponpart of the nursery-grounds over which Curran had wandered, dwellat No. 10 Mr. and Mrs. Keeley.  At No. 20 resides Mr. JohnCooper the well-known veteran actor.  M. Guizot, thecelebrated Frenchp. 80statesman, after the overthrow of thegovernment of Louis Philippe, resided for some time at No. 21,where Madame Guizot, his mother, died in March, 1848, at theadvanced age of eighty-three; and the same house was, by asingular coincidence, afterwards occupied by Ledru Rollin. Pelham Place, at the back of the Crescent, is notable for having,at No. 2, Mr. Lazarus, the celebrated clarionet player, and atNo. 8 resides Mr. A. Harris, the present lessee of thePrincess’s Theatre.

Nearly opposite to Pelham Crescent isPondPlace, where Mr. Curtis, the eminent botanist, of whommore hereafter, died on the 7th July, 1799; and a little furtheron, on the same side of the way, appears Chelsea New Church,dedicated to St. Luke.

 

Dropped Capital The first stone of this church was laid on the 12th October,1820, and the New Church was consecrated on the 18th October,1824.  The architect was Mr. Savage of Walbrook.[80]  The burial-ground in which itstands had been consecrated on the 21st November, 1812; and anAct of Parliament, 59 George III., cap. 35, 1819, authorised theappropriation of part of that ground for the site of building achurch.  In the burial-ground repose the remains of Dr. JohnM’Leod, the companion and friend of the gallant Sir MurrayMaxwell, and the author of ‘A Narrative of a Voyage inH.M.S. Alceste to the Yellow Sea, and of her Shipwreck in theStraits of Gaspar,’ published in 1817. p. 81Onhis return to England, the services of Dr. M’Leod wererewarded by his appointment to the Royal Sovereign yacht, whichhe did not long enjoy, as he died in lodgings in the King’sRoad, Chelsea, on the 9th November, 1820, at the age ofthirty-eight.

Signor Carlo Rovedino, a bass singer of some reputation, alsolies buried in this churchyard.  He was a native of Milan,and died on the 6th of October, 1822, aged seventy-one.  Theremains of Blanchard and Egerton, two actors of establishedcharacter, repose here side by side.  William Blanchard waswhat is termed “a useful comedian;” whatever part wasassigned to him, he made the most of it.  At the age ofseventeen, he joined a provincial theatrical company at York, hisnative city, and in 1800, after fourteen years of laboriouscountry practice, appeared at Covent Garden as Bob Acres in‘The Rivals,’ and Crack in ‘The TurnpikeGate.’  At the time of his death, 9th May, 1835, heresided at No. 1, Camera Square, Chelsea.  Blanchard haddined with a friend at Hammersmith, and left him to return homeabout six in the evening of Tuesday.  On the followingmorning, at three o’clock, poor Blanchard was found lyingin a ditch by the roadside, having been, as is supposed, seizedby a fit; in the course of the evening he was visited by anotherattack, which was succeeded by one more violent on the Thursday,and on the following day he expired.

Daniel Egerton—“oh! kinglyEgerton”—personified for many years on the stage ofCovent Garden all the royal personages about whom there was greatstate and talk, but who had little to say for themselves. He was respectedp. 82as being, and without doubt was, anindustrious and an honest man.  Having saved somehardly-earned money, Egerton entered into a theatricalspeculation with a brother actor, Mr. Abbott, and became managerof one of the minor houses, by which he was ruined, and died in1835, under the pressure of his misfortunes.  His widow,whose representations of the wild women of Scott’s novels,Madge Wildfire and Meg Merrilies, have distinguished her, died onthe 10th August, 1847, at Brompton, aged sixty-six, havingsupported herself nobly amidst the troubles of her latterdays.  Mrs. Egerton was the daughter of the Rev. PeterFisher, rector of Torrington, in Devonshire.  She appearedat the Bath theatre soon after the death of her father in 1803,and in 1811 made her first appearance at Covent Garden Theatre asJuliet.

On the right-hand side, a little off the main road, is OnslowSquare, which was built upon the site of the extensive house andgrounds once occupied as a lunatic asylum.  The row of largetrees now in the centre of the square was formerly the avenuefrom the main road to this house.  Mr. Henry Cole, C.B.lives at No. 17, Onslow Square; he is well known to the public asa member of the Executive Committee of the Crystal Palace, apromoter of art manufactures, and the author of numerous workspublished under thenom de plume of “FelixSummerly.”  No. 31 is the residence of Mr. and Mrs.Theodore Martin (better known as Miss Helen Faucit).  At No.34 resides Baron Marochetti, the celebrated sculptor, who settledin England after the French revolution of February, 1848, and hasobtained high patronage here.  At the back of the house isp.83the studio, with an entrance from the main road, wherethe avenue of trees continues.  W. M. Thackeray, the popularwriter, lives at No. 36, and Rear-Admiral Fitzroy, thedistinguished geographer and navigator, is at No. 38.

A few yards beyond Sydney Place (leading into Onslow Square),on the opposite side of the road, is Sydney Street, leadingdirect to St. Luke’s Church, the late incumbent of which,the Rev. Charles Kingsley, who died on 29th February, 1860, aged78, was the father of the well-known popular writer, the Rev.Charles Kingsley, of Eversley Rectory, Hants.  Sydney Streetwas originally called Upper Robert Street, as being thecontinuation of Robert Street, Chelsea; but, under some notion ofraising its respectability, the inhabitants agreed to change thename.  It happened, however, that the corner house adjoiningthe Fulham Road, on the western side, was occupied by a surgeon,who imagined that the change in name might be injurious to hispractice, and he took advantage of his position to retain the oldname on his house.  Thus for some time the street was knownby both names, but that of Upper Robert Street is now entirelyabandoned.  The opposite corner house, No. 2, Sydney Street,was for some years occupied by the Rev. Dr. Biber, author of the‘Life of Pestalozzi,’ and editor and proprietor ofthe ‘John Bull’ newspaper.  On his selling the‘John Bull,’ it became incorporated with the‘Britannia.’

No. 24 was for some time the residence of Mr. Thomas Wright,the well-known antiquary and historical writer, who now lives atNo. 14.

Robert Street, which connects themain Fulham Roadp. 84with the King’s Road, passesdirectly before the west side of the spacious burial-ground, andimmediately opposite to the tower of St. Luke’s Church; atNo. 17 formerly resided Mr. Henry Warren, the President of theNew Society of Water-Colour Painters.

Returning to the main Fulham Road, and passing the CancerHospital, now in course of erection, we come toYork Place, a row of twenty-two well-builtand respectable houses on the south, or, according to our course,left-hand side of the road.

No. 15, York Place, was, between the years 1813 and 1821, theretirement of Francis Hargrave, a laborious literary barrister,and the editor of ‘A Collection of State Trials,’[84] and many other esteemed legalworks.  Here he died on the 16th of August, 1821, at the ageof eighty-one.

In 1813, when obliged to abandon his arduous profession, inconsequence of over-mental excitement, the sum of £8,000was voted by Parliament, upon the motion of Mr. Whitbread, forthe purchase of Mr. Hargrave’s law books, which wereenriched with valuable notes, and for 300 MSS., to be depositedin the library of Lincoln’s Inn, for public use.  Asdocuments of national historical importance may beparticularised, Mr. Hargrave’s first publication, in 1772,entitled ‘The Case of James Somerset,aNegro,lately determined by the Court of King’sBench,wherein it is attempted to demonstrate the presentunlawfulness of Domestic Slavery in England;’ his‘Three Arguments in the two causes in Chancery on thelast Will of Peter Thellusson,Esq.,with Mr.Morgan’sp. 85Calculation of the Accumulationunder the Trusts of the Will,1799;’ and his‘Opinion in the Case of the Duke of Athol in respect tothe Isle of Man.’

Opposite to York Place was a fine, open, airy piece of groundto which Mr. Curtis, the eminent naturalist, removed hisbotanical garden from Lambeth Marsh, as a more desirablelocality.  Upon the south-east portion of thisnursery-ground the first stone was laid by H.R.H. Prince Albert,on the 11th July, 1844, of an hospital for consumption anddiseases of the chest, and which was speedily surrounded byhouses on all sides; probably a circumstance not contemplated atthe time the ground was secured.

The botanical garden of Mr. Curtis, as a public resort forstudy, was continued at Brompton until 1808, when the lease ofthe land being nearly expired, Mr. Salisbury, who in 1792 becamehis pupil, and in 1798 his partner in this horticulturalspeculation, removed the establishment to the vacant space ofground now inclosed between Sloane Street and Cadogan Place,where Mr. Salisbury’s undertaking failed.  A plan ofthe gardens there, as arranged by him, was published in the‘Gentleman’s Magazine’ for August, 1810.[85]

Mr. Curtis, whose death has been already mentioned, was theson of a tanner, and was born at Alton, in Hampshire, in1746.  He was bound apprentice to his grandfather, a quakerapothecary of that town, whose house was contiguous to the CrownInn, where the botanical knowledge of John Lagg, the hostler,seems to have excited rivalry in the breast of youngCurtis.  In the course of events hep. 86becameassistant to Mr. Thomas Talwin, an apothecary in GracechurchStreet, of the same religious persuasion as his grandfather, andsucceeded Mr. Talwin in his business.  Mr. Curtis’slove of botanical science, however, increased with hisknowledge.  He connected with it the study of entomology, byprinting, in 1771, ‘Instructions for Collecting andPreserving Insects,’ and in the following year atranslation of the ‘Fundamenta Entomologiæ’ ofLinnæus.  At this time he rented a very small gardenfor the cultivation of British plants, “near the GrangeRoad, at the bottom of Bermondsey Street,” and here it wasthat he conceived the design of publishing his great work,‘The Flora Londinensis.’

“The Grange Road Garden was soon found toosmall for his extensive ideas.  He, therefore, took a largerpiece of ground in Lambeth Marsh, where he soon assembled thelargest collection of British plants ever brought together intoone place.  But there was something uncongenial in the airof this place, which made it extremely difficult to preserve seaplants and many of the rare annuals which are adapted to anelevated situation,—an evil rendered worse every year bythe increased number of buildings around.  This led hisactive mind, ever anxious for improvement, to inquire for a morefavourable soil and purer air.  This, at length, he found atBrompton.  Here he procured a spacious territory, in whichhe had the pleasure of seeing his wishes gratified to the utmostextent of reasonable expectation.  Here he continued to hisdeath;”

having, I may add, for many years previously, devoted himselfentirely to botanical pursuits.

To support the slow sale of ‘The FloraLondinensis,’ Mr. Curtis, about 1787, started ‘TheBotanical Magazine,’ which became one of the popularperiodicals of the day, and Dr. Smith’s and Mr.Sowerby’s ‘English Botany’ was modelled afterit.

p.87What Mr. Curtis, as an individual, commenced, theHorticultural Society are endeavouring, as a body, to effect.

Immediately past the Hospital for Consumption is FowlisTerrace, a row of newly-built houses, running from the road.

At the corner of Church Street (on the opposite side of theroad) is an enclosure used as the burial-ground of theWestminster Congregation of the Jews.  There is aninscription in Hebrew characters over the entrance, above whichis an English inscription with the date of the erection of thebuilding according to the Jewish computationa.m. 5576, or 1816a.d.  Beside it is the milestonedenoting that it is 1½ mile from London.

TheQueen’s Elm Turnpike,pulled down in 1848, was situated here, and took its name fromthe tradition that Queen Elizabeth, when walking out, attended byLord Burleigh,[87a] being overtaken by a heavy shower ofrain, found shelter here under an elm-tree.  After the rainwas over, the queen said, “Let this henceforward be calledThe Queen’s Tree.”  The tradition is stronglysupported by the parish records of Chelsea, as mention is made in1586 (the 28th of Elizabeth, and probably the year of theoccurrence), of a tree situated about this spot, “at theend of the Duke’s Walk,”[87b] as “TheQueen’s Tree,” around which an arbour was built, or,in other words, nine youngp. 88elm-treeswere planted, by one Bostocke, at the charge of the parish. The first mention of “The Queen’sElm,”occurs in 1687, ninety-nine years after her Majesty had shelteredbeneath the tree around which “an arbour was built,”when the surveyors of the highway were amerced in the sum of fivepounds, “for not sufficiently mending the highway from theQueen Elm to the bridge, and from the Elm to ChurchLane.”  In a plan of Chelsea, from a survey made in1664 by James Hamilton, and continued to 1717, a tree occupyingthe spot assigned to “The Queen’s Elm,” iscalled “The Cross Tree,” and in the vestry minutes itis designated as “The High Elm,” which latter name isused by Sir Hans Sloane in 1727.  Bostocke’s arbour,however, had the effect of giving to the cross-road the name of“The Nine Elms.”  Steele, on the 22nd June,1711, writing to his wife, says, “Pray, on the receipt ofthis, go to the Nine Elms, and I will follow you within anhour.”[88]  And so late as 1805, “TheNine Elms, Chelsea,” appeared as a local address innewspaper advertisements.

Again let me crave indulgence for minute attention to thechanges of name; but much topographical difficulty often arisesfrom this cause.

The stump of the royal tree, with, as is asserted, its rootremaining in the ground undisturbed, a few years ago existedsquared down to the dimensions of an ordinary post, about sixfeet in height and whitewashed.  But the identity appearsquestionable, although a post, not improbably fashioned out ofone of the nine elms which grew around it, stood till within thelast few years in front of ap. 89public-housenamed from the circumstance the Queen’s Elm, which househas been a little altered since the annexed sketch was made, bythe introduction of a clock between the second floor windows, andthe house adjoining has been rebuilt, overtopping it.

Queen’s Elm Public House

On the opposite or north side of the Fulham Road, some smallhouses are calledSelwood Place, frombeing built on part of the ground of “Mr. Selwood’snursery,” which is mentioned in 1712 by Mr. NarcissusLuttrell, of whom more hereafter, as one of the sources fromwhich he derived a variety of pear, cultivated by him in hisgarden at Little Chelsea.

Chelsea Park, on the same side ofthe way with the Queen’s Elm public-house, and distantabout a furlong from it, as seen from the road, appears a noblestructure with a magnificent portico. Chelsea Park PorticoThe ground now called Chelsea Park belonged, with anextensive tract of which it formed the northern part, to thefamous Sir Thomas More, and in his timep. 90wasunenclosed, and termed “the Sand Hills.”  Itreceived the present name in 1625, when the Lord-TreasurerCranfield (Earl of Middlesex) surrounded with a brick wall aboutthirty-two acres, which he had purchased in 1620 from Mr.Blake.  In 1717 Chelsea Park, which extended from the Fulhamto the King’s Road, was estimated at forty acres, andbelonged to the Marquis of Wharton, with whom, when appointed in1709 Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, Addison went over asSecretary.  It subsequently became the scene of ajoint-stock company speculation under a patent granted in 1718 toJohn Appletree, Esq., for producing raw silk of the growth ofEngland, and for raising a fund for carrying on the same. This undertaking was divided into shares of £5 each, ofwhich £1 was paid down.  Proposals were published, asubscription-book opened, in which several hundred names weresoon entered; a deed of trust executed and enrolled in Chancery;directors were chosen by the subscribers for managing the affairsof the Company; and, Chelsea Park being thought a proper soil forthe purpose and in a convenient situation, a lease was taken ofit for 122 years.  Here upwards of 2000 mulberry-trees weresoon planted, and extensive edifices erected for carrying on thework: this number of trees was, however, but a small part of whatthe company intended to plant if they were successful.  Inthe following year Mr. Henry Barham, F.R.S., who was probably amember of the company, published ‘An Essay on the SilkWorm,’ in which he thinks “all objections anddifficulties against this glorious undertaking are shown to bemere phantoms and trifles.”  The event, however,p.91proved that the company met with difficulties of a realand formidable nature; for though the expectation of thisgentleman, who questioned not that in the ensuing year theyshould produce a considerable quantity of raw silk, may have beenpartly answered, the undertaking soon began to decline, and, inthe course of a few years, came to nothing.  It must,however, be admitted that the violent stock-jobbing speculationsof the year 1720, which involved the shares of all projects ofthis nature, might have produced many changes among theproprietors, and contributed to derange the originaldesign.  However, from that period to the present time, noeffort has been made to cultivate the silkworm in this country asa mercantile speculation, although individuals have continued torear it with success as an object of curiosity.

Walpole, in his ‘Catalogue of Engravers,’ tells usthat James Christopher Le Blon, a Fleming by birth, and amezzotint-engraver by profession, some time subsequent to 1732,“set up a project for copying the cartoons in tapestry, andmade some very fine drawings for that purpose.  Houses werebuilt and looms erected in the Mulberry Ground at Chelsea; buteither the expense was precipitated too fast, or contributionsdid not arrive fast enough.  The bubble burst, severalsuffered, and Le Blon was heard of no more.”  Walpoleadds, “It is said he died in an hospital at Paris in1740:” and observes that Le Blon was “very far fromyoung when he knew him, but of surprising vivacity andvolubility, and with a head admirably mechanic, but an universalprojector, and with at least one of the qualities that attendthat vocation, either a dupe or ap. 92cheat; Ithink,” he continues, “the former, though, as most ofhis projects ended in air, the sufferers believed thelatter.  As he was much an enthusiast, perhaps like mostenthusiasts he was both one and t’ other.”

The present mansion was built upon a portion of Chelsea Parkby Mr. William Broomfield, an eminent surgeon, who resided in itfor several years.  The late possessor was Sir Henry WrightWilson, Bart., to whose wife, Lady Frances Wilson (daughter ofthe Earl of Aylesbury), was left a valuable estate in Hampshire,[92] said to be worth about £3,000 ayear, under the following very singular circumstances.  Herladyship was informed one morning in February, 1814, while atbreakfast, that an eccentric person named Wright, who had died afew days previously at an obscure lodging in Pimlico, hadappointed her and Mr. Charles Abbott his executors, and aftersome legacies had bequeathed to Lady Frances the residue of hisproperty by a will dated so far back as August, 1800.  AsLady Frances declared herself to be unacquainted even with thename of the testator, she at first concluded that there was somemistake in the matter.  After further explanation, theperson of Mr. Wright was described to her, and Lady Frances atlast recollected that the description answered that of agentleman she had remembered as a constant frequenter of theOpera some years previously and consideredp. 93to be aforeigner, and who had annoyed her extremely there by constantlystaring at her box.  To satisfy herself of the identity, shewent to the lodgings of the late Mr. Wright, and saw him in hiscoffin, when she recognized the features perfectly as those ofthe person whose eyes had so often persecuted her when she wasLady Frances Bruce, but who had never spoken to her, and of whomshe had no other knowledge whatever.

Mr. Wright left legacies of £4,000 to the Countess ofRosslyn, £4,000 to the Speaker of the House of Commons,£1,000 to the lord-chancellor, and the same sum toArchdeacon Pott, the rector of St. Martin-in-the-Fields, whichchurch Mr. Wright had been in the habit of frequenting, having aslittle acquaintance with any of these parties as he had with LadyFrances Wilson.  It may be supposed from these facts thatLady Frances Wilson was exceedingly beautiful, and that anadmiration of her charms might have influenced Mr. Wright to makethis extraordinary bequest in her favour; but those who knew LadyFrances well assert that such could not possibly have been thecase, as she was far from beautiful at any period of her life;and the oddity of the story is, and it seemed to be the generalopinion, that Mr. Wright’s legacy was intended for a ladywho usually occupied a box next to that in which Lady Francessat, and who, at the period, was regarded as thebelle ofthe Opera.

Thistle Grove, on the opposite sideof the road from Chelsea Park, leads, by what had been a gardenpathway, to the Old Brompton Road.  At each side of“the Grove,” now occupying the sites of trees, aredetached villas,p. 94houses, lodges, and cottages, named,or not named, after the taste of their respective proprietors;one of which, on the left hand, some fourteen houses distant fromthe main Fulham Road, was for many years the residence of Mr.John Burke, whose laborious heraldic and genealogical inquiriesinduced him to arrange and publish various important collectionsrelative to the peerage and family history of the United Kingdom,in which may be found, condensed for immediate reference, animmense mass of important information.

In Thistle Grove Mr. J. P. Warde, the well-known actor, diedin 1840.

Immediately beyond Chelsea Park the village ofLittle Chelsea commences, about the centreof which, and on the same side of the way, at the corner of theroad leading to Battersea Bridge, stands the Goat in Bootspublic-house. Goat in BootsIn 1663, there was a “house called the Goat at LittleChelsea,” which, between that year and 1713, enjoyed thep.95right of commonage for two cows and one heifer uponChelsea Heath.

How the Goat became equipped in boots, and the designation ofthe house changed, has been the subject of various conjectures;the most probable of which is, that it originates in a corruptionof the latter part of the Dutch legend,—

mercurius is der godenboode,”
(Mercury is the messenger of the gods,)

which being divided between each side of a sign bearing thefigure of Mercury—a sign commonly used in the early part ofthe last century to denote that post-horses were to beobtained—“der goden boode” became freelytranslated into English, “the goat in boots.” To Le Blon is attributed the execution of this sign and itsmotto; but, whoever the original artist may have been, and theintermediate retouchers or repainters of the god, certain it isthat the pencil of Morland, in accordance with the desire of thelandlord, either transformed the petasus of Mercury into thehorned head of a goat, his talaria into spurs upon boots of hugedimensions, and his caduceus into a cutlass, or thus decoratedthe original sign, thereby liquidating a score which he had runup here, without any other means of payment than what his pencilafforded.  The sign, however, has been painted over, withconsiderable additional embellishments from gold leaf, so thatnot the least trace of Morland’s work remains, except,perhaps, in the outline.

Park Walk (the road turning off at the Goat in Boots) proceedsto the King’s Road, and, although not in a direct line, toBattersea Bridge.  Opposite the Goat in Boots isp.96Gilston Road, leading to Boltons and St. Mary’sPlace.  At No. 6, St. Mary’s Place, resides J. O.Halliwell, F.R.S., F.S.A., the well-known Shaksperian scholar,whose varied contributions to literature have been crowned by theproduction of his folio edition of Shakspere—a work stillin progress.  At No. 8, Mr. Edward Wright, the popularactor, resided for a short time.

A few paces further on the main Fulham Road, at the north oropposite side, stood “Manor House,” now termed ManorHall, and occupied by St. Philip’s Orphanage, a large,old-fashioned building, with the intervening space between it andthe road screened in by boards,—which were attached to theantique iron gate and railings about twenty years ago, when itbecame appropriated to a charitable asylum.  Previously,Manor House had been a ladies’ boarding-school; and hereMiss Bartolozzi, afterwards Madame Vestris, was educated.

Seymour Place, which leads toSeymour Terrace, is a cul-de-sac on the same side of the mainFulham Road, between Manor Hall and the Somerset Armspublic-house, which last forms the west corner of SeymourPlace.

At No. 1, Seymour Terrace expired, on the 19th of June, 1824,in her twenty-fifth year, Madame Riego, the widow of theunfortunate patriot General Riego, “the restorer and martyrof Spanish freedom.”  Her short and eventful historypossesses more than ordinary melancholy.  While yet a childshe had to endure all the hardships and privations consequentupon a state of warfare, and under the protection of her maternalgrandfather, had to seek refuge from place to place on themountains of Asturias from thep. 97Frencharmy.  At the close of 1821 she was married to GeneralRiego, to whom she had been known and attached almost frominfancy, and, in the spring of the following year, became, withher distinguished husband, a resident in Madrid.  But thepolitical confusion and continued alarm of the period havingappeared to affect her health, the general proceeded with her inthe autumn to Granada, where he parted from his young and belovedwife, never again to meet her in this world, the convocation ofthe extraordinary Cortes for October 1822 obliging him to returnto the capital.

Accompanied by the canon Riego, brother to her husband, andher attached sister, Donna Lucie, she removed in March to Malaga,from whence the advance of the French army into the south ofSpain obliged them to seek protection at Gibraltar, which, underthe advice of General Riego, they left for England on the 4th ofJuly, but, owing to an unfavourable passage, did not reach Londonuntil the 17th of August.  Here the visitation whichimpended over her was still more calamitous than all that hadpreceded it.  Within little more than two months after herarrival in London, the account arrived of General Riego’sexecution.[97]

Gerald Griffin, the Irish novelist, in a letter dated 22nd ofNovember, 1823, says,—

“I have been lately negotiating with my host(of 76 Regent Street) for lodgings for the widow and brother ofpoor General Riego.  Theyp. 98are splendidapartments, but the affair has been broken off by the account ofhis death.  It has been concealed from her.  She is ayoung woman, and is following him fast, being far advanced in aconsumption.  His brother is in deep grief.  He says hewill go and bury himself for the remainder of his days in thewoods of America.”

The house,

No. 1,SeymourPlace,

No. 1 Seymour Place as it was then, Seymour Terrace, Little Chelsea, as it isnow called, became, about this period, the residence of theunhappy fugitives.  Griffin, who appears to have made theiracquaintance through a Spanish gentleman, named Valentine Llanos,writes, in February, 1824,—

“I was introduced the other day to poorMadame Riego, the relict of the unfortunate general.  I wassurprised to see her look much better than I was prepared toexpect, as she is in a confirmed consumption.”

Mental grief, which death only could terminate, had at thatmoment “marked” Madame Riego “for hisown;” yet her look, like that of all high-minded Spaniards,to a stranger was calm—“much better than he wasprepared to expect.”

On the 18th of May, exactly one month and a day before thetermination of her sufferings, Griffin says,—

“The canon Riego, brother to the poormartyr, sent me, the other day, a Spanish poem of many cantos,having for its subject the careerp. 99of theunhappy general, and expressed a wish that I might find materialfor an English one in it, if I felt disposed to make anything ofthe subject. Apropos, Madame Riego is almostdead.  The fire is in her eye, and the flush on her cheek,which are, I believe, no beacons of hope to theconsumptive.  She is an interesting woman, and I pity herfrom my soul.  This Mr. Mathews, who was confined with herhusband, and arrived lately in London, and who, moreover, is acountryman of mine, brought her from her dying husband a littlefavourite dog and a parrot, which were his companions in hisdungeon.  He very indiscreetly came before her with theremembrances without any preparation, and she received a shockfrom it, from which she has not yet, nor ever will recover. What affecting little circumstances these are, and howinteresting to one who has the least mingling of enthusiasm inhis character!”

Madame Riego died in the arms of her attached sister, attendedby the estimable canon.  In her will she directed herexecutor, the canon, to assure the British people of thegratitude she felt towards them for the sympathy and supportwhich they extended to her in the hours of her adversity. But what makes the will peculiarly affecting is her solemnattestation to the purity and sincerity of the political life ofGeneral Riego.  She states that she esteems it to be thelast act of justice and duty to the memory of her belovedhusband, solemnly to declare, in the awful presence of her God,before whose judgment-seat she feels she must soon appear, thatall his private feelings and dispositions respecting his countrycorresponded with his public acts and professions in defence ofits liberties.

A few yards beyond the turn down to Seymour Place, on theopposite side of the road, stood, until pulled down in 1856, tomake room for the new one, the additionalp. 100workhouseto St. George’s, Hanover Square, for which purposeShaftesbury House was purchased by that parish in 1787; and anAct of Parliament passed in that year declares it to be in“St. George’s parish so long as it shall continue tobe appropriated to its present use.” Shaftesbury HouseBack of Shaftesbury HouseThe parochial adjuncts to Lord Shaftesbury’s mansion,which remained, until the period of its demolition, in nearly thesame state as when disposed of, have been considerable; but thebuilding, as his lordship left it, could be at once recognisedthrough the iron gate by which you entered, and which wassurmounted by a lion rampant, probably the crest of one of thesubsequent possessors.  It is surprising, indeed, that solittle alteration, externally as well as internally should havetaken place.  The appearance of the back of ShaftesburyHouse, as represented in an old print, was unchanged, with theexception of the flight of steps which led to the garden beingtransferred to the west (or shaded side) of the wing—anp.101addition made by Lord Shaftesbury to the originalhouse.  This was purchased by him in 1699 from the Boveyfamily, as heirs to the widow of Sir James Smith, by whom thereis reason to believe it was built in 1635, asStonewas engraved on a stone which formed part of the pavement infront of one of the summer-houses in the garden.

The Right Honourable Sir James Smith was buried at Chelsea18th of November, 1681.  He was probably the junior sheriffof London in 1672.

Summer-house

“It does not appear,” says Lysons,“that Lord Shaftesbury pulled down Sir James Smith’shouse, but altered it and made considerable additions by abuilding fifty feet in length, which projected into thegarden.  It was secured with an iron door, thewindow-shutters were of the same metal, and there were ironplates between it and the house to prevent all communication byfire, of which this learned and noble peer seems to haveentertained great apprehensions.  The whole of the newbuilding, though divided into a gallery and two small rooms (oneof which was his lordship’s bedchamber), was fitted up as alibrary.  The earl was very fond of the culture offruit-trees, and his gardens were planted with the choicestsorts, particularly every kind of vine which would bear the openair of this climate.  It appears by Lord Shaftesbury’sletters to Sir John Cropley that he dreaded the smoke of Londonas so prejudicial to his health, that wheneverp. 102the windwas easterly he quitted Little Chelsea,” where he generallyresided during the sitting of Parliament.

In 1710 the noble author of ‘Characteristics,’then about to proceed to Italy, sold his residence at LittleChelsea to Narcissus Luttrell, Esq., who, as a book-collector, isdescribed by Dr. Dibdin as “ever ardent in his love of pastlearning, and not less voracious in his bibliomaniacalappetites” than the Duke of Marlborough.  Sir WalterScott acknowledges in his preface to the works of Dryden theobligations he is under to the “valuable” and“curious collection of fugitive pieces of the reigns ofCharles II., James II., William III., and Queen Anne,”“made by Narcissus Luttrell, Esq., under whose name theeditor quotes it.  This industrious collector,”continues Sir Walter, “seems to have bought every poeticaltract, of whatever merit, which was hawked through the streets inhis time, marking carefully the price and the date of thepurchase.  His collection contains the earliest editions ofmany of our most excellent poems, bound up, according to theorder of time, with the lowest trash of Grub Street.  It wasdispersed on Mr. Luttrell’s death,” adds Sir WalterScott, and he then mentions Mr. James Bindley and Mr. RichardHeber as having “obtained a great share of the Luttrellcollection, and liberally furnished him with the loan of some ofthem in order to the more perfect editing of Dryden’sworks.”

This is not exactly correct, as Mr. Luttrell’s librarydescended with Shaftesbury House to Mr. Sergeant Wynne, and fromhim to his eldest son, after whose death it was sold by auctionin 1786.  On the title-page of thep.103sale-catalogue the collection is described as“the valuable library of Edward Wynne, Esq., latelydeceased, brought from his house at Little Chelsea.  Greatpart of it was formed by an eminent and curious collector in thelast century.”  At the sale of Mr. Wynne’slibrary, Bindley purchased lot ’209, Collection of Poems,various, Latin and English, 5 vols. 1626, &c.,’ forseven guineas; and ’211, Collection of Political Poems,Dialogues, Funeral Elegies, Lampoons, &c., with variousPolitical Prints and Portraits, 3 vols. 1641, &c.,’ forsixteen pounds; and it is probable that these are the collectionsto which Sir Walter Scott refers.

Dr. Dibdin, in his enthusiastic mode of treating matters ofbibliography, endeavours to establish a pedigree for thosewho

“Love a ballad in print a’life,”

from Pepys, placing Mr. Luttrell the Second in descent.

“The opening of the eighteenthcentury,” he observes, “was distinguished by thedeath of a bibliomaniac of the very first order and celebrity; ofone who had no doubt frequently discoursed largely and eloquentlywith Luttrell upon the variety and value of certain editions ofold ballad poetry, and between whom presents of curious oldblack-letter volumes were in all probability passing, I allude tothe famous Samuel Pepys, secretary to the Admiralty.”

Of Narcissus Luttrell he then says:—

“Nothing would seem to have escaped hislynx-like vigilance.  Let the object be what it may(especially if it related to poetry), let the volume be great orsmall, or contain good, bad, or indifferent warblings of theMuse, his insatiable craving had ‘stomach forall.’  We may consider his collection thefountain-head of these copious streams, which, after fructifyingin the libraries of many bibliomaniacs in the first half of theeighteenth century, settled for awhile more determinedly in thecurious book-reservoir of a Mr. Wynne, and hence breaking up andtaking a different direction towards the collections ofp.104Farmer, Steevens, and others, they have almost losttheir identity in the innumerable rivulets which now inundate thebook-world.”

It is to the literary taste of Mr. Edward Wynne, as assertedby Dr. Dibdin, that modern book-collectors are indebted for thepreservation of most of the choicest relics of the BibliothecaLuttrelliana.

“Mr. Wynne,” he continues,“lived at Little Chelsea, and built his library in a roomwhich had the reputation of having been Locke’sstudy.  Here he used to sit surrounded by innumerable books,a great part being formed by ‘an eminent and curiouscollector in the last century.’”

What Dr. Dibdin says respecting Mr. Wynne’s building alibrary and Locke’s study is inaccurate, as there can be noreasonable doubt that the room or rooms his library occupied werethose built by Lord Shaftesbury, which had (and correctly) thereputation of having been his lordship’s library, and thestudy, not of Locke, although of Locke’s pupil andfriend.  It is not even probable that Lord Shaftesbury wasever visited by our great philosopher at Little Chelsea, as from1700 that illustrious man resided altogether at Oates, in Essex,where he died on the 28th of October, 1704.

Whether to Lord Shaftesbury or to Mr. Luttrell theembellishments of the garden of their residence are to beattributed can now be only matter for conjecture, unless somecurious autograph-collector’s portfolio may by chancecontain an old letter or other document to establish theclaim.  Their tastes, however, were very similar.  Theyboth loved their books, and their fruits and flowers, and enjoyedthe study of them. Summer-houseAn account drawn up by Mr. Luttrell of several pears which hecultivated at Littlep. 105Chelsea, with outlines of theirlongitudinal sections, was communicated to the HorticulturalSociety by Dr. Luttrell Wynne, one hundred years after the noteshad been made, and may be found printed in the second volume ofthe Transactions of that Society.  In this accounttwenty-five varieties of pears are mentioned, which had beenobtained between the years 1712 and 1717 from Mr. Duncan’s,Lord Cheneys’s, Mr. Palmer’s, and Mr. Selwood’snursery.

Until recently it was astounding to find, amid the rage foralteration and improvement, the formal old-fashioned shape of atrim garden of Queen Anne’s time carefully preserved, itsantique summer-houses respected, and the little infant leadenHercules, which spouted water to cool the air from aserpent’s throat, still asserting its aquatic supremacy,under the shade of a fine old medlar-tree; and all this too inthe garden of a London parish workhouse! Hercules fountainNotp. 106less surprising was the aspect ofthe interior.  The grotesque workshop of the pauperartisans, said to have beenWorkshop Lord Shaftesbury’s dairy, and over which was hisfire-proof library, was then an apartment appropriated to agirls’ school.

On the basement story of the original house the embellishedmouldings of a doorway, carried the mind back toDoorway the days of Charles I., and, standing within which,p.107imagination depicted the figure of a jolly Cavalierretainer, with his pipe and tankard; or of a Puritanical, formalservant, the expression of whose countenance was sufficient toturn the best-brewed October into vinegar.  The old carveddoor leading into this apartment is shown in the annexedsketch.

Nor should the apartment then occupied by the intelligentmaster of the workhouse be overlooked.  The panelling of theroom, its chimney-piece, and the painting andFireplace with painting aboveframework above it, placed us completely in a chamber of thetime of William III.  And we only required a slightalteration in the furniture, and Lord Shaftesbury to enter, tofeel that we were in the presence of the author of‘Characteristics.’

p.108The staircase, too, with its spiral balusters, as seenthrough the doorway, retained its ancient air.

Staircase seen through doorway

Narcissus Luttrell died here on the 26th of June, 1732, andwas buried at Chelsea on the 6th of July following; where FrancisLuttrell (presumed to be his son) was also buried on the 3rd ofSeptember, 1740.  Shaftesbury House then passed into theoccupation of Mr. Sergeant Wynne, who died on the 17th of May,1765; and from him it descended to his eldest son, Mr. EdwardWynne, the author of ‘Eunomus: a Dialogue concerning theLaw and Constitution of England, with an Essay onDialogue,’ 4 vols. 8vo; and other works, chiefly of a legalnature.  He died a bachelor, at Little Chelsea, on the 27thof December, 1784; and his brother, the Rev. Luttrell Wynne, ofAll Souls, Oxford, inherited Shaftesbury House,p.109and the valuable library which Mr. Luttrell, hisfather, and brother, had accumulated.  The house healienated to William Virtue, from whom, as before mentioned, itwas purchased by the parish of St. George’s, HanoverSquare, in 1787; and the library formed a twelve-days’sale, by Messrs. Leigh and Sotheby, commencing on the 6th ofMarch, 1786.  The auction-catalogue contained 2788 lots; andsome idea of the value may be formed from the circumstance, thatnine of the first seventeen lots sold for no less a sum than£32 7s., and that four lots of old newspapers, Nos. 25, 26,27, and 28, were knocked down at £18 5s.  No.‘376, a collection of old plays, by Gascoigne, White,Windet, Decker, &c., 21 vols,’ brought £38 17s.;and No. 644, Milton’s ‘Eiconoclastes,’ with MS.notes, supposed to be written by Milton, was bought by Waldronfor 2s., who afterwards gave it to Dr. Farmer.  Dr. Dibdindeclares, that “never was a precious collection of Englishhistory and poetry so wretchedly detailed to the public in anauction-catalogue” as that of Mr. Wynne’s library;and yet it will be seen that it must have realised a considerablesum of money.  He mentions, that “a great number ofthe poetical tracts were disposed of, previous to the sale, toDr. Farmer, who gave not more than forty guineas forthem.”

p. 110CHAPTER III.

from little chelsea towalham green.

After what has been said respecting Shaftesbury House, it maybe supposed that its associations with the memory of remarkableindividuals are exhausted.  This is very far from being thecase; and a long period in its history, from 1635 to 1699,remains to be filled up, which, however, must be done byconjecture: although so many circumstances are upon record, thatit is not impossible others can be produced to complete a chainof evidence that may establish among those who have been inmatesof theadditional Workhouse of St.George’s,HanoverSquare—startling as the assertion mayappear—two of the most illustrious individuals in theannals of this country; of one of whom Bishop Burnet observed,[110] that his “loss is lamented byall learned men;” the other, a man whose “great anddistinguishing knowledge was the knowledge of human nature or thepowers and operations of the mind, in which he went further, andspoke clearer, than all other writers who preceded him, and whose‘Essay on thep. 111Human Understanding’ is thebest book of logic in the world.”  After this, I needscarcely add thatBoyle andLocke are the illustrious individualsreferred to.

The amiable John Evelyn, in his ‘Diary,’ mentionshis visiting Mr. Boyle at Chelsea, on the 9th March, 1661, incompany “with that excellent person and philosopher, SirRobert Murray,” where they “saw divers effects of theeolipile for weighing air.”  And in the same year M.de Monconys, a French traveller in England, says,“L’après diné je fus avec M. Oldenburg,[111] et mon fils, à deux milles deLondres en carosse pour cinq chelins à un villagenomméle petit Chelsey, voir M. Boyle.” Now at this period there probably was no other house at LittleChelsea of sufficient importance to be the residence of the Hon.Robert Boyle, where he could receive strangers in his laboratoryand show them his great telescope; and, moreover, notwithstandingwhat has been said to prove the impossibility of Locke havingvisited Lord Shaftesbury on this spot, local tradition continuesto assert that Locke’s work on the ‘HumanUnderstanding’ was commenced in the retirement of one ofthe summer-houses of Lord Shaftesbury’s residence. This certainly may have been the case if we regard Locke as avisitor to his brother philosopher, Boyle, and admit his tenancyof the mansion previous to that of Lord Shaftesbury, to whomLocke, it is very probable, communicated the circumstance, andwhich might have indirectly led to his lordship’s purchaseof the premises.  Be that as it may, it is an interestingassociation, with something more than mere fancy for itsp.112support, to contemplate a communion between two of themaster-minds of the age, and the influence which theirconversation possibly had upon that of the other.

Boyle’s sister, the puritanical Countess of Warwick,under date 27th November, 1666, makes the following note:“In the morning, as soon as dressed, I prayed, then wentwith my lord to my house at Chelsea, which he had hired, where Iwas all that day taken up with business about my house.”[112]  Whether this refers toLittleChelsea or not is more than I can affirm, although there arereasons for thinking that Shaftesbury House, or, if not, onewhich will be subsequently pointed out, is the house alludedto.

Charles, the fourth Earl of Orrery, and grand-nephew to Boylethe philosopher, was born at Dr. Whittaker’s house atLittle Chelsea on the 21st July, 1674.  It was hisgrandfather’s marriage with Lady Margaret Howard, daughterof the Earl of Suffolk, that induced the witty Sir John Sucklingto write his well-known ‘Ballad upon a Wedding,’ inwhich he so lusciously describes the bride:—

“Her cheeks so rare a white was on,
No daisie makes comparison;
   Who sees them is undone;
For streaks of red were mingled there,
Such as are on the Cath’rine pear—
   The side that’s next the sun.

“Her lips were red; and one was thin,
Compared to that was next her chin—
   Some bee had stung it newly;
But, Dick, her eyes so guard her face,
I durst no more upon her gaze,
   Than on the sun in July.”

p.113The second Earl of Orrery, this lady’s son,having married Lady Mary Sackville, daughter of the Earl ofDorset, is stated to have led a secluded life at Little Chelsea,and to have died in 1682.  His eldest son, the third earl,died in 1703, and his brother, mentioned above as born at LittleChelsea, became the fourth earl, and distinguished himself in themilitary, scientific, and literary proceedings of histimes.  In compliment to this Lord Orrery’s patronage,Graham, an ingenious watchmaker, named after his lordship a pieceof mechanism which exhibits the movements of the heavenlybodies.  With his brother’s death, however, in 1703,at Earl’s Court, Kensington, the connection of the Boylefamily with this neighbourhood appears to terminate.

Doctor Baldwin Hamey, an eminent medical practitioner duringthe time of the Commonwealth, and a considerable benefactor tothe College of Physicians, died at Little Chelsea on the 14th ofMay, 1676, after an honourable retirement from his professionalduties of more than ten years.

Mr. Faulkner’s ‘History of Kensington,’published in 1820, and in which parish the portion of LittleChelsea on the north side of the Fulham Road stands, mentions theresidence of Sir Bartholomew Shower, an eminent lawyer, in 1693;Sir Edward Ward, lord chief baron of the Exchequer, in 1697;Edward Fowler, lord bishop of Gloucester, in 1709, who died athis house here on the 26th August, 1714; and Sir William Dawes,lord bishop of Chester, in 1709, who, I may add, died Archbishopof York in 1724.  But in Mr. Faulkner’s ‘Historyofp.114Chelsea,’ published in 1829, nothing more is tobe found respecting Sir Bartholomew Shower than that he wasengaged in some parochial law proceedings in 1691.  SirEdward Ward’s residence is unnoticed.  The Bishop ofGloucester, who is said to have been a devout believer in fairiesand witchcraft, is enumerated among the inhabitants of ParadiseRow, Chelsea (near the hospital, and full a mile distant fromle petit Chelsey); and Sir William Dawes, we find fromvarious entries, an inhabitant of the parish between the years1696 and 1712, but without “a local habitation” beingassigned to him.  All this is very unsatisfactory to any onewhose appetite craves after map-like accuracy in parishaffairs.

Bowack, in 1705, mentions that

“At Little Chelsea stands a regular handsomehouse, with a noble courtyard and good gardens, built by Mr.Mart, now inhabited by Sir John Cope, Bart., a gentleman of anancient and honourable family, who formerly was eminent in theservice of his country abroad, and for many years of late inParliament, till he voluntarily retired here to end his days inpeace.”

And here Sir John Cope died in 1721.  Can he have beenthe father of the

“Hey, Johnnie Cope, are ye waukingyet,
Or are ye sleeping, I would wit?
O haste ye, get up, for the drums do beat;
O fye, Cope! rise up in the morning!”

—of the Sir John Cope who was forced to retreat fromPreston Pans in “the ’45,” and against whom allthe shafts of Jacobite ribaldry have been levelled?

p.115Faulkner says that this house, which was“subsequently occupied by the late Mr. Duffield as aprivate madhouse, has been pulled down, and its site is nowcalled Odell’s Place, a little eastward of LordShaftesbury’s;” that is to say, opposite to ManorHall, and Sir John Cope’s house was not improbably theresidence of two distinguished naval officers, Sir James Wishartand Sir John Balchen.  The former was made an admiral, andknighted by Queen Anne in 1703, and appointed one of the lords ofthe Admiralty, but was dismissed from the naval service by GeorgeI. for favouring the interests of the Pretender, and died atLittle Chelsea on the 30th of May, 1723.  In the‘Daily Courant,’ Monday, July 15, 1723, the followingadvertisement appears:—

“To be sold by auction, the household goods,plate, china ware, linen, &c., of Sir James Wishart,deceased, on Thursday the 18th instant, at his latedwelling-house at Little Chelsea.  The goods to be seen thisday, to-morrow, and Wednesday, before the sale, from 9 to 12 inthe morning, and from 3 to 7 in the evening.  Catalogues tobe had at the sale.

“N.B.  A coach and chariot to be sold, and thehouse to be let.”

Admiral Sir John Balchen resided at Little Chelsea soon afterSir James Wishart’s death.  In 1744, Admiral Balchenperished in the Victory, of 120 guns, which had the reputation ofbeing the most beautiful ship in the world, but foundered, witheleven hundred souls on board, in the Bay of Biscay.

On the 31st of March, 1723, Edward Hyde, the third Earl ofClarendon, died “at his house, Little Chelsea;” butwhere the earl’s house stood I am unable to state.

Mrs. Robinson, the fascinating “Perdita,” tellsus, in herp. 116autobiography, that, at the age often (1768), she was “placed for education in a school atChelsea.”  And she then commences a most distressingnarrative, in which the last tragic scene she was witness tooccurred at Little Chelsea.

“The mistress of this seminary,” Mrs.Robinson describes as “perhaps one of the mostextraordinary women that ever graced, or disgraced,society.  Her name was Meribah Lorrington.  She was themost extensively accomplished female that I ever remember to havemet with; her mental powers were no less capable of cultivationthan superiorly cultivated.  Her father, whose name wasHull, had from her infancy been master of an academy atEarl’s Court, near Fulham; and early after his marriage,losing his wife, he resolved on giving this daughter a masculineeducation.  Meribah was early instructed in all the modernaccomplishments, as well as in classical knowledge.  She wasmistress of the Latin, French, and Italian languages; she wassaid to be a perfect arithmetician and astronomer, and possessedthe art of painting on silk to a degree of exquisiteperfection.  But, alas! with all these advantages, she wasaddicted to one vice, which at times so completely absorbed herfaculties as to deprive her of every power, either mental orcorporeal.  Thus, daily and hourly, her superioracquirements, her enlightened understanding, yielded to theintemperance of her ruling infatuation, and every power ofreflection seemed absorbed in the unfeminine propensity.

“All that I ever learned,” adds Mrs. Robinson,“I acquired from this extraordinary woman.  In thosehours when her senses were not intoxicated, she would delight inthe task of instructing me.  She had only five or sixpupils, and it was my lot to be her particular favourite. She always, out of school, called me her little friend, and madeno scruple of conversing with me (sometimes half the night, for Islept in her chamber) on domestic and confidential affairs. I felt for her very sincere affection, and I listened withpeculiar attention to all the lessons she inculcated.  OnceI recollect her mentioning the particular failing which disgracedso intelligent a being.  She pleaded, in excuse of it, theunmitigable regret of a widowed heart, and with compunctiondeclared that she flew to intoxication as the only refuge fromthe pang of prevailing sorrow.”

p.117Mrs. Robinson remained more than twelve months underthe care of Mrs. Lorrington,

“When pecuniary derangements obliged her togive up her school.  Her father’s manners weresingularly disgusting, as was his appearance, for he wore asilvery beard, which reached to his breast, and a kind of Persianrobe, which gave him the external appearance of anecromancer.  He was of the Anabaptist persuasion, and sostern in his conversation, that the young pupils were exposed toperpetual terror; added to these circumstances, the failing ofhis daughter became so evident, that even during school-hours shewas frequently in a state of confirmed intoxication.”

In 1772, three years afterwards, when Mrs. Robinson wasfourteen, her mother, Mrs. Darby, was obliged, as a means ofsupport, to undertake the task of tuition.

“For this purpose, a convenient house washired at Little Chelsea, and furnished for a ladies’boarding-school.  Assistants of every kind were engaged, andI,” says Mrs. Robinson, “was deemed worthy of anoccupation that flattered my self-love, and impressed my mindwith a sort of domestic consequence.  The English languagewas my department in the seminary, and I was permitted to selectpassages both in prose and verse for the studies of my infantpupils; it was also my occupation to superintend their wardrobes,to see them dressed and undressed by the servants, orhalf-boarders, and to read sacred and moral lessons onsaints’ days and Sunday evenings.

“Shortly after my mother had established herself atChelsea, on a summer’s evening, as I was sitting at thewindow, I heard a deep sigh, or rather groan of anguish, whichsuddenly attracted my attention.  The night was approachingrapidly, and I looked towards the gate before the house, where Iobserved a woman, evidently labouring under excessiveaffliction.  I instantly descended and approached her. She, bursting into tears, asked whether I did not know her. Her dress was torn and filthy; she was almost naked, and an oldbonnet, which nearly hid her face, so completely disfigured herfeatures, that I had not the smallest idea of the person who wasthen almost sinking before me.  I gave her a small sum ofmoney, and inquired the cause of her apparent agony.  Shetook my hand, and pressed it to her lips. p.118‘Sweet girl,’ said she, ‘you arestill the angel I ever knew you!’  I wasastonished.  She raised her bonnet; her fine dark eyes metmine.  It was Mrs. Lorrington.  I led her into thehouse; my mother was not at home.  I took her to my chamber,and, with the assistance of a lady, who was our French teacher, Iclothed and comforted her.  She refused to say how she cameto be in so deplorable a situation, and took her leave.  Itwas in vain that I entreated—that I conjured her to let meknow where I might send to her.  She refused to give me heraddress, but promised that in a few days she would call on meagain.  It is impossible to describe the wretched appearanceof this accomplished woman.  The failing to which she hadnow yielded, as to a monster that would destroy her, was evident,even at the moment when she was speaking to me.  I saw nomore of her; but, to my infinite regret, I was informed, someyears after, that she had died, the martyr of a premature decay,brought on by the indulgence of her propensity tointoxication—in the workhouse of Chelsea!”

Mrs. Robinson adds, that—

“The number of my mother’s pupils in afew months amounted to ten or twelve; and, just at a period whenan honourable independence promised to cheer the days of anunexampled parent, my father unexpectedly returned fromAmerica.  The pride of his soul was deeply wounded by thestep which my mother had taken; he was offended even beyond thebounds of reason.

 

“At the expiration of eight months, my mother, by myfather’s positive commands, broke up her establishment, andreturned to London.”

Nearly opposite to the workhouse is the West Brompton Brewery,formerly called “Holly Wood Brewery,” and immediatelybeyond it an irregular row of six houses, which stand a littleway back from the road, with small gardens before them.  Thefirst house is now divided into two, occupied, when the sketchwas made in 1844, by Miss Read’s academy (Tavistock House)and Mrs. Corder’s Preparatory School; the latter (BoltonHouse) to bep. 119distinguished by two ornamentedstone-balls on the piers of the gateway, was a celebratedmilitary academy, at which many distinguished soldiers have beeneducated. Bolton House gatewayThe academy was established about the year 1770, by Mr. LewisLochee, who died on the 5th of April, 1787, and who, in 1778,published an ‘Essay on Castrametation.’ “The premises,” says Mr. Faulkner, “which werelaid out as a regular fortification, and were open to view,excited much attention at the time.”  When balloonswere novelties, and it was supposed might be advantageously usedin the operations of warfare, they attracted considerable notice;and, on the 16th of October, 1784, Mr. Blanchard ascended fromthe grounds of the Military Academy, near Chelsea.  Theanxiety to witness this exhibition is thus described in acontemporary account:—

“The fields for a considerable way roundLittle Chelsea were crowded with horse and foot; in consequenceof which a general devastation took place in the gardens, theproduce being either trampled down or torn up.  The turnipgrounds were totally despoiled by the multitude.  All thewindows and houses round the academy were filled with people ofthe first fashion.  Every roof within view was covered, andeach tree filled with spectators.”

Mr. Blanchard, upon this occasion, ascended with somedifficulty, accompanied by a Mr. Sheldon, a surgeon, whomp.120he landed at Sunbury, from whence Blanchard proceededin his balloon to Romsey, in Hampshire, where he came down insafety, after having been between three and four hours in theair.

After Mr. Lochee’s death, his son, Mr. Lewis Lochee,continued the establishment which his father had formed, but,unfortunately for himself, engaged in the revolutionary movementswhich agitated Flanders in 1790; where, “being takenprisoner by the Austrians, he was condemned to be hanged. He, however, obtained permission to come to England to settle hisaffairs, upon condition of leaving his only son as a hostage;and, upon his return to the Continent, he suffered the punishmentof death.”[120]

“His son, a schoolfellow of mine,” adds Mr.Faulkner, “afterwards married a daughter of the late Mr.King, an eminent book auctioneer of King Street, Covent Garden,and, lamentable to relate, fell by his own hands,” 8th ofDecember, 1815.

The residence beyond Mr. Lochee’s Military Academy isnamedWarwick House—why, unless,possibly, the name has some reference to Boyle’sbrother-in-law, the Earl of Warwick, I am at a loss todetermine.  The next house is Amyot House.  Then comesMulberry House, formerly the residenceof Mr. Denham, a brother of the lamented African traveller,Colonel Denham.  The fifth house is calledHeckfield Lodge, an arbitrary namep.121bestowed by its late occupant, Mr. Milton, the authorof two clever novels, ‘Rivalry,’ and ‘LadyCecilia Farrencourt,’ recently published, and brother tothe popular authoress, Mrs. Trollope.  And the sixth andlast house in the row, on the west side of which is Walnut-treeWalk, leading to Earl’s Court and Kensington, isdistinguished by the name of Burleigh House, which, some onehumorously observed,[121] might possibly bea contraction of “hurley burley,” the house being aladies’ school, and the unceasing work of education, on themain Fulham Road, appearing here for the first time toterminate. Burleigh House (1844)The following entry, however, in the parish register ofKensington, respecting the birth of the fourth Earl of Exeter, onthe 21st of May, 1674, may suggest a more probablederivation:—“15 May.  Honble. John Cecill, sonand heir apparent of the Rt. Honble. John Lord Burleigh and theLady Anne his wife born at Mr. Sheffield’s.”

William Boscawen, the amiable and accomplished translator ofHorace, resided at Burleigh House; and here he died, on the 6thof May, 1811, at the age of fifty-nine.  He had been calledto the bar, but gave up that profession in 1786, on beingappointed a commissioner for victuallingp. 122thenavy.  An excellent classical scholar, and warmly attachedto literary pursuits, Mr. Boscawen published, in 1793, the firstvolume of a new translation of Horace, containing the‘Odes,’ ‘Epodes,’ and ‘CarmenSæculare.’  This, being well received, wasfollowed up by Mr. Boscawen, in 1798, by his translation of the‘Satires, Epistles, and Art ofPoetry,’—completing a work considered to be in manyrespects superior to Francis’s translation.  As anearly patron and zealous friend of the Literary Fund, Mr.Boscawen’s memory will be regarded with respect. Within five days of his death, he wrote a copy of verses for theanniversary meeting, which he contemplated attending:—

“Relieved from toils, behold the agedsteed
Contented crop the rich enamell’d mead,
Bask in the solar ray, or court the shade,
As vernal suns invite, or summer heats invade!
But should the horn or clarion from afar
Call to the chase, or summon to the war,
Roused to new vigour by the well-known sound,
He spurns the earth, o’erleaps the opposing mound,
Feels youthful ardour in each swelling vein,
Darts through the rapid flood, and scours the plain!

“Thus a lorn Muse, who, worn by cares andwoes,
Long sought retirement’s calm, secure repose,
With glad, though feeble, voice resumes her lay,
Waked by the call of this auspicious day.”

Alas! the hand which on May morning had penned thisintroduction to an appeal in the cause of literarybenevolence,—that hand was cold; and the lips by which, onthe following day, the words that had flowed warmly from thep.123heart were to have been uttered,—those lips weremute in death within a week.

On the 16th of April, 1765, Mr. James House Knight, of WalhamGreen, returning home from London, was robbed and murdered on thehighroad in the vicinity of Little Chelsea; the record of hisburial in the parish register of Kensington is, “Shot inFulham Road, near Brompton.”  For the discovery of themurderers a reward of fifty pounds was offered; and, on the 7thof July following, two Chelsea pensioners were committed toprison, charged with this murder, on the testimony of theiraccomplice, another Chelsea pensioner, whom they had threatenedto kill upon some quarrel taking place between them.  Theaccused were tried, found guilty, hanged, and gibbeted; onenearly opposite Walnut-tree Walk, close by the two-mile stone,the other at Bull Lane, a passage about a quarter of a milefarther on, which connects the main Fulham Road with theKing’s Road, by the side of the Kensington Canal.  Inthese positions, for some years, the bodies of the murderers hungin chains, to the terror of benighted travellers and ofmarket-gardeners, who

“Wended their way,
In morning’s grey,”

towards Covent Garden, until a drunken frolic caused theremoval of a painful and useless exhibition.  A veryinteresting paper upon London life in the last century occurs inthe second volume of Knight’s ‘London;’ inwhich it is observed that “a gibbet’s tassel”was one of the first sights which met the eye of a strangerapproaching London from the sea.

p. 124“About the middle of the lastcentury, similar objects met the gaze of the traveller bywhatever route he entered the metropolis.  ‘Allthe gibbets in the Edgware Road,’ says an extract from thenewspapers of the day in the ‘Annual Register’ for1763, ‘on whichmany malefactors were being hung inchains, were cut down by persons unknown.’  Theall and themany of this cool matter-of-factannouncement conjure up the image of a long avenue planted with‘gallows-trees,’ instead of elms andpoplars,—an assemblage of pendent criminals, not exactly‘thick as leaves that strew the brook in Valombrosa,’but frequent as those whose feet tickling Sancho’s nose,when he essayed to sleep in the cork forest, drove him from treeto tree in search of an empty bough.

“Frequent mention is made in the books, magazines, andnewspapers of that period, of the bodies of malefactors conveyedafter execution to Blackheath, Finchley, and Kennington Commons,or Hounslow Heath, for the purpose of being there permanentlysuspended.  In those days the approach to London on allsides seems to have lain through serried files of gibbets,growing closer and more thronged as the distance from the citydiminished, till they and their occupants arranged themselves inrows of ghastly and grinning sentinels along both sides of theprincipal avenues.”

This picture is not over-coloured; and it is to the followingoccurrence in the main Fulham Road that the removal of theseoffensive exhibitions is to be attributed.  Two or threefashionable parsons, who had sacrificed superabundantly to thejolly god at Fulham, returning to London, where they desired toarrive quickly, had intellect enough to discover that the driverof their post-chaise did not make his horses proceed at a paceequal to their wishes, and, after in vain urging him to morespeed, one of them declared that, if he did not use his whip withbetter effect, he should be made an example of for the publicbenefit, and hanged up at the first gibbet.  The correctnessof the old saying, that “when the head is hot thep.125hand is ready,” was soon verified by the postboybeing desired to stop at the gibbet opposite Walnut-tree Walk,which order, unluckily for himself, he obeyed, instead ofproceeding at a quicker pace.  Out sprung the inmates of hischaise; they seized him, bound him hand and foot, and throwing arope, which they had fastened round his body, over the gibbet, hesoon found himself, in spite of his cries and entreaties,elevated in air beside the tarred remains of the Chelseapensioner.

The reverend perpetrators of the deed drove off, leaving theluckless postboy to protest, loudly and vainly, to “thedull, cold ear of death,” against the loathsomecompanionship.  When the first market-gardener’s cartpassed by, most lustily did he call for help; but every effort toget free only tended to prolong his suspense.  What couldthe carters and other early travellers imagine upon hearingshouts proceeding from the gibbet, but that the identicalmurderer of Mr. Knight had by some miracle come to life, and nowcalled out, “Stop! stop!” with the intention ofrobbing and murdering them also?  And they, feeling thatsupernatural odds were against them, ran forwards or backwards,not daring to look behind, as fast as their feet could carryalarmed and bewildered heads, leaving the fate of their carts tothe sagacity of the horses.  Finding that the louder hecalled for help the more alarm he excited, the suspended postboydetermined philosophically to endure the misery of his situationin dignified silence.  But there he was suffered to hangunnoticed; or, if remarked, it was only concluded that anothercriminal had been added to the gibbet, as its secondtassel.  Thep. 126circumstance, however, of a secondbody having been placed there speedily came to the knowledge of amagistrate in the neighbourhood, who had taken an active part inthe apprehension of Mr. Knight’s murderers; and heproceeded, without delay, to the spot, that he might satisfyhimself as to the correctness of the report.  Judge,however, his astonishment on hearing himself addressed by namefrom the gibbet, and implored, in the most piteous manner, todeliver from bondage a poor postboy, whose only offence was thathe would not goad on two overworked horses to humour a pair ofdrunken gentlemen.  These “drunken gentlemen”are said to have been men of rank and influence: their names havenever transpired, but the outrage with which they were chargedled to the immediate removal from the Fulham Road of the lastpair of gibbets which disgraced it.

Upon the ground which was occupied by the gibbet where thekind-hearted postboy was strung up, a solitary cottage stood someyears ago; and tradition asserted, that both the murderer and hisgibbet were buried beneath it. Solitary cottageThis cottage is now pulled down; Lansdowne Villas andHollywood Place have been erected on the spot, and villas andgroves continue to the ‘Gunter Arms,’ a public-housethatp. 127takes its name from Richard Gunter,the well-known confectioner, by the side of which is GunterGrove.  This is now the starting-point of the Bromptonomnibuses, which formerly did not go beyond Queen’sElm.  Edith Grove, a turning between Lansdowne Villas andGunter Grove, is in a direct line with Cremorne Gardens.

Proceeding on our road towards Fulham, the next point whichclaims attention is the extensive inclosure of the West of Londonand Westminster Cemetery Company,—a company incorporated byact of parliament 1st of Victoria, cap. 180.  Theburial-ground was consecrated on the 12th of June, 1840, andextends from the Fulham Road to what is called, generally,“Sir John Scott Lillie’s Road,” and sometimes“Brompton Lane Road,” which, in fact, is acontinuation, to North End, Fulham, of the line of the OldBrompton Road,—the point, as the reader may recollect, thatwe turned off from at the Bell and Horns, in order to follow themain Fulham Road to Little Chelsea.  The public way on theeast of the burial-ground is called Honey Lane, and on the westthe boundary is the pathway by the side of the KensingtonCanal.  The architect of the chapel and catacombs is Mr.Benjamin Baud.  The cemetery is open for public inspection,free of charge, from seven in the morning till sunset, except onSundays, when it is closed till half-past oneo’clock.  The first interment took place on the 18thof June, 1840, from which time, to the 22nd of November, therewere thirty-four burials, the average number being then four perweek.  It is scarcely necessary to add, that a considerableaverage increase has taken place; but the first step instatistics is always curious.

p.128One of the most interesting instances of longevitywhich the annals of the West of London and Westminster CemeteryCompany present occurs on a stone in the north-east corner of theburial-ground, where the age recorded of Louis Pouchée is108; but this does not agree with the burial entry made by theRev. Stephen Reid Cattley—“Louis Pouchée, ofSt. Martin’s in the Fields, viz., 40 Castle Street,Leicester Square, buried Feb. 21, 1843, aged 107.”

This musical patriarch, however, according to a statement inthe ‘Medical Times,’[128] was admitted as apatient to St. George’s Hospital November 24, 1842. January 4, went out, and died, about three months afterwards, ofdiarrhoea and dysentery.

Another instance of longevity, though not so extraordinary, isone which cannot be contemplated without feeling how muchinfluence the consciousness of honest industry in the human mindhas upon the health and happiness of the body.  A gravestonenear a public path on the south-east side of the burial-groundmarks the last resting place of Francis Nicholson,landscape-painter, who died the 6th March, 1844, aged 91years.

Mr. Nicholson originally practised as a portrait-painter, butthe simplicity and uprightness of his heart did not permit him totolerate or pander to the vanities of man (and woman) kind. To flatter was with him an utter impossibility; and, as he couldnot invariably consider the “human face divine,” hewas incapable of assuming the courtly manners so essential inthat branch of thep. 129profession.  He never, indeed,quite forgave himself for an approach to duplicity committed atthis time upon an unfortunate gentleman, who sat to him for hisportrait, and who squinted so desperately, that in order to gaina likeness it was necessary to copy moderately the defect. The poor man, it seemed, perfectly unconscious of the same, onbeing invited to inspect the performance, looked in silence uponit a few moments, and, with rather a disappointed air,said—

“I don’t know—it seems to me—does itsquint?”

“Squint!” replied Nicholson, “no more thanyou do.”

“Really! well, you know best of course; but I declare Ifancied there was aqueer look about it!”

The opening of the Water-Colour Exhibition, in 1805, may bedated as the commencement of Mr. Nicholson’s fame andsuccess in London.  In conjunction with Glover, Varley,Prout, and others, an advance in the art of watercolour paintingwas made, such as to astonish and call forth the admiration ofthe public.

In a manuscript autobiography which Mr. Nicholson left behindhim, and which is full of curious anecdotes, he gives thefollowing account of the formation of that exhibition.

“Messrs. Hills and Pyne asked me to join inthe attempt to establish such a society, which I readily agreedto.  It was a long time before a number of memberssufficient to produce so many works as would be required to coverthe walls of the exhibition room in Brook Street could be broughtto join it.  Artists were afraid they might suffer loss byrenting and fitting up the room, the expense being certain andthe success very doubtful.  After a great while the societywas formed, and, in the first and second exhibition, the sale ofdrawings was sop. 130considerable, and the visitors sonumerous, that crowds of those who had refused to join were eagerto be admitted into the society.”

Nicholson’s GraveSince the annexed sketch of Mr. Nicholson’s grave wastaken, the stone bears the two additional melancholy inscriptionsof Thomas Crofton Croker, son-in-law of Francis Nicholson, whodied 8th August, 1854, and Marianne, widow of Thomas CroftonCroker, who died 6th October, 1854; and an iron railing has beenerected on either side of the grave.

St. Mark’s ChapelOpposite to the Cemetery gates is Veitch’s Royal ExoticNursery.

St. Mark’s Chapel, within the grounds of the college,stands opposite to St. Mark’s Terrace, a row of modernhouses immediately beyond the cemetery.  The grounds extendto the King’s Road, and contain about eleven acres,surrounded by a brick wall; and the entrance to the NationalSociety’s training college is from that road. p.131Stanley House, or Stanley Grove House, which waspurchased in 1840 for upwards of £9000 by the society,stood upon the site of a house which Sir Arthur Gorges, thefriend of Spenser, allegorically named by him Alcyon,[131] built for his own residence; and uponthe death of whose first wife, a daughter of Viscount Bindon, in1590, the poet wrote a beautiful elegy, entitled‘Daphnaida.’  In the Sydney papers mention ismade, under date 15th November, 1599, that, “as the queenpassed by the faire new building, Sir Arthur Gorges presented herwith a faire jewell.”  He died in 1625; and by hiswidow, the daughter of the Earl of Lincoln, the house andadjacent land, then called the “Brickhills,” wassold, in 1637, to their only daughter, Elizabeth, the widow ofSir Robert Stanley; which sale was confirmed by hermother’s will, dated 18th July, 1643.  The Stanleyfamily continued to reside here until 1691, when by the death ofWilliam Stanley, Esq., that branch of this family became extinctin the male line.

The present house, a square mansion, was built soonafterwards; and the old wall, propped by several buttresses,inclosing the west side of the grounds, existed on the bank ofthe Kensington Canal until it was washed down by a very hightide.  This new or square mansion remained unfinished andunoccupied for several years.  In 1724 it belonged to HenryArundel, Esq. and on the 24th May, 1743, Admiral Sir CharlesWager, a distinguished naval officer, died here, and was buriedin Westminster Abbey.  After passing through several hands,p.132Stanley Grove became the property of Miss Southwell,afterwards the wife of Sir James Eyre, Lord Chief Justice of theCommon Pleas, who sold it in 1777 to the Countess ofStrathmore.

Here her ladyship indulged her love for botany by buildingextensive hot-houses and conservatories, and collecting andintroducing into England rare exotics.

“She had purchased,” says herbiographer, “a fine old mansion, with extensive groundswell walled in, and there she had brought exotics from the Cape,and was in a way of raising continually an increase to hercollection, when, by her fatal marriage, the cruel spoiler cameand threw them, like loathsome weeds, away.”

Mr. Lochee, before mentioned, purchased Stanley Grove from theCountess of Strathmore and her husband, Mr. Bowes.  It wasafterwards occupied by Dr. Richard Warren, the eminent physician,who died in 1797, and who is said to have acquired by thehonourable practice of his profession no less a sum than£150,000.  In January 1808, Mr. Leonard Morse, of theWar Office, died at his residence, Stanley House, and about 1815it was purchased by the late Mr. William Richard Hamilton, whoranks as one of the first scholars and antiquaries of hisday.  Between that year and 1840 Mr. Hamilton resided hereat various periods, having occasionally let it.  He made aconsiderable addition to the house by building a spacious room asa wing on the east side, in the walls of which casts from thefrieze and metopes of the Elgin marbles were let in.

When Mr. Hamilton proceeded as envoy to the court of Naples in1821, Stanley Grove House became the residencep. 133of Mrs.Gregor, and is thus described by Miss Burney, who was an inmateat this time, in the following playful letter[133] to a friend, dated 24th September,1821:—

“Whilst you have been traversing sea andland, scrambling up rocks and shuddering beside precipices, Ihave been stationary, with no other variety than such as turningto the right instead of the left when walking in the garden, orsometimes driving into town through Westminster, and, at othertimes, through Piccadilly.  Poor Miss Gregor continues to bea complete invalid, and, for her sake, we give up all society athome and all engagements abroad.  Luckily, the house, rentedby Mrs. Gregor from William Hamilton, Esq. (who accompanied LordElgin into Greece) abounds with interesting specimens in almostevery branch of the fine arts.  Here are statues, casts fromthe frieze of the Parthenon, pictures, prints, books, andminerals;four pianofortes of different sizes, and anexcellent harp.  All this to study does Desdemona(that’s me) seriously incline; and the more I study themore I want to know and to see.  In short, I am crazy totravel in Greece!  The danger is that some good-for-nothingbashaw should seize upon me to poke me into his harem, there tobury my charms for life, and condemn me for ever to blushunseen.  However, I could easily strangle or stab him, setfire to his castle, and run away by the light of it, accompaniedby some handsome pirate, with whom I might henceforward live atmy ease in a cavern on the sea-shore, dressing his dinners onemoment, and my own sweet person the next in pearls and rubies,stolen by him, during some of his plundering expeditions, fromthe fair throat and arms of a shrieking Circassian beauty, whoselord he had knocked on the head.  Till these genteeladventures of mine begin, I beg you to believe me, dear Miss---,

“Yours most truly,
S. H. Burney.”

Theodore Hook notes, in one of his manuscript journals,“5th July, 1826.  W. Hamilton’s party. Stanley Grove.”

About 1828, Stanley Grove was occupied by thep.134Marquess of Queensberry; and, in 1830–31, byColonel Grant, at the rent, it was said, of £1000 perannum.

On the west side of the house the National Society added aquadrangle, built in the Italian style after the design of Mr.Blore; and, in the grounds near the chapel, an octagonal buildingas a Practising School, for teaching the poor children of theneighbourhood.

Practising School

Crossing the Kensington Canal over Sandford Bridge,Sandford Bridge sometimes written “Stanford” and“Stamford,” we enterp. 135the parishof Fulham.  The road turning off on the west side of thecanal is called “Bull Lane;” and a little further ona footway existed not long since, known as Bull Alley; both ofwhich passages led into the King’s Road, and took theirnames from the Bull public-house, which stood between them inthat road. Bull AlleyBull Alley is now converted into a good-sized street, calledStamford Road, which has a public-house (the Rising Sun) on oneside, and a bookseller’s shop on the other.  Here, fora few years, was a turnpike, which has been recently removed andplaced lower down the road, adjoining the Swan Tavern andBrewery, Walham Green, established 1765. No. 4, No. 3 Stamford VillasHouses are being built in all directions opposite several“single and married houses,” with small gardens infront and the rear, known asStamfordVillas, where, at No. 2, resided, in 1836 and 1837, Mr. H.K. Browne, better known, perhaps, by hissobriquet of“Phiz,” as an illustrator of popular periodicalworks.

No. 3 and No. 4 are shown in the annexed cut, and No. 3 may benoticed as having been the residence of Mr. Kempe, the author of‘A History ofp. 136St. Martin-le-Grand,’ theeditor of the ‘Losely Papers,’ and a constantcontributor, under the signature of A. J. K., to the antiquarianlore of the ‘Gentleman’s Magazine.’  Mr.Kempe died here on 21st August, 1846.  The three last housesof the Stamford Villas are not “wedded to eachother,” and in the garden of the one nearest London, Mr.Hampton, who made an ascent in a balloon from Cremorne, on the13th June, 1839, with every reasonable prospect of breaking hisneck for the amusement of the public, came down by a parachutedescent, without injury to himself, although he carried away abrick or two from the chimney of the house, much to the annoyanceof the person in charge, who rushed out upon the aeronaut, andtold him that he had no business to come in contact with thechimney.  His reply exhibited an extraordinary coolness, forhe assured the man it was quite unintentional upon his part.

The milestone is opposite the entrance to No. 20 StamfordVillas, which informs the pedestrian that it is one mile toFulham; and passing Salem Chapel, which is on the right hand sideof the main road, we reach the village of Walham Green.

p. 137CHAPTER IV.

walham green tofulham.

The village of Walham Green, which is distant from Hyde ParkCorner between two and a half and three miles, appears to havebeen first so called soon after the revolution of 1688. Before this, it was known as Wansdon Green, written also Wandonand Wandham; all of which names, according to Lysons, originatedfrom the manor of Wendon, so was the local name written in 1449,which in 1565 was spelled Wandowne.  As the name of a lowand marshy piece of land on the opposite side of the Thames toWandsworth, through whichwandered the drainage from thehigher grounds, or through which the traveller had toWendon (pendan) his way to Fulham; it would not bedifficult to enter into speculations as to the Anglo-Saxon originof the word, but I refrain from placing before the reader myantiquarian ruminations while passing Wansdown House, for fewthings are more fascinating and deceptive than verbalassociations.  Indeed, if indulged in to any extent, theymight lead an enthusiast to connect in thought the piers ofFulham (bridge) with thePiers ofp. 138Fulham,who, in the fourteenth or fifteenth century, “compyled manypraty conceytis in love under covert terms of ffyssyng andffowlyng;” and which curious poem may be found printed in acollection ofAncient Metrical Tales, edited by the Rev.Charles Henry Hartshorne.[138]

Two of “some ancient houses, erected in 1595, asappeared by a date on the truss in the front of one ofthem,” were pulled down at Walham Green in 1812; afterwhich the important proceedings in the progress of this villagein suburban advancement consisted in the establishment ofnumerous public-houses; the filling up of a filthy pond, upon theground gained by which act a chapel-of-ease to Fulham, dedicatedto St. John, has been built, after the design of Mr. Taylor, atthe estimated expense of £9683 17s. 9d.  The firststone was laid on the 1st of January, 1827; and it wasconsecrated by the Bishop of London on the 14th of August,1828.  This was followed by the building of a charity-schoolupon an angular patch of green, or common land, where donkeys hadbeen wont to graze, and the village children to play atcricket.  Then the parish pound was removed from a corner ofthe high road, near a basket-maker’s, to a back lane,thereby destroying the travelling joke of “Did you ever seethe baskets sold by the pound?”  And, finally, WalhamGreen has assumed a new aspect, from the construction of theButchers’ Almshouses, the first stone of which was laid bythe late Lord Ravensworth, on the 1st of July, 1840.  Sincethat time, fancy-fairs and bazaars, with horticulturalexhibitions, have been fashionably patronised at Walhamp.139Green by omnibus companies, for the support andenlargement of this institution.

“Hail, happy isle! and happier WalhamGreen!
Where all that’s fair and beautiful are seen!
Where wanton zephyrs court the ambient air,
And sweets ambrosial banish every care;
Where thought nor trouble social joy molest,
Nor vain solicitude can banish rest.
Peaceful and happy here I reign serene,
Perplexity defy, and smile at spleen;
Belles, beaux, and statesmen, all around me shine;
All own me their supreme, me constitute divine;
All wait my pleasure, own my awful nod,
And change the humble gardener to the god.”

Thus, in the ‘London Magazine’ for June 1749, didMr. Bartholomew Rocque prophetically apostrophise WalhamGreen,—the “belles, beaux, and statesmen,” bywhich he was surrounded being new varieties of flowers, dignifiedby distinguished names.  In 1755, he printed a‘Treatise on the Cultivation of the Hyacinth, translatedfrom the Dutch;’ and in 1761 an ‘Essay on LucerneGrass,’, of which an enlarged edition was published in1764.  Mr. Rocque[139] resided in thehouse occupied by the late Mr. King, opposite to the Red Lion,where Mr. Oliver Pitts now carries on business as builder andcarpenter.

Immediately after leaving Walham Green, on the south, orleft-hand side, of the main Fulham road, behind a pair ofcarriage gates, connected by a brick wall, stands thep.140mansion of Lord Ravensworth; in outward appearancesmall and unostentatious, without the slightest attempt atarchitectural decoration, but sufficiently spacious andattractive to have received the highest honour that can beconferred on the residence of a subject, by her Majesty andPrince Albert having visited the late lord here on the 26th ofJune, 1840.  The grounds at the back of the house, thoughnot extensive, were planted with peculiar skill, care, and taste,by the late Mr. Ord; and on that occasion recalled to memory thewords of our old poet, the author of ‘Britannia’sPastorals,’ William Browne:—

“There stood the elme, whose shade somildely dym
Doth nourish all that groweth under him:
Cipresse that like piramides runne topping,
And hurt the least of any by the dropping;
The alder, whose fat shadow nourisheth
Each plant set neere to him long flourisheth;
The heavie-headed plane-tree, by whose shade
The grasse grows thickest, men are fresher made;
The oak that best endures the thunder-shocks,
The everlasting, ebene, cedar, boxe.
The olive, that in wainscot never cleaves,
The amourous vine which in the elme still weaves;
The lotus, juniper, where wormes ne’er enter;
The pyne, with whom men through the ocean venture;
The warlike yewgh, by which (more than the lance)
The strong-arm’d English spirits conquer’d France;
Amongst the rest, the tamarisks there stood,
For housewives’ besomes only knowne most good;
The cold-place-loving birch, and servis-tree;
The Walnut-loving vales and mulberry;
The maple, ashe, that doe delight in fountains,
Which have their currents by the side of mountains;
The laurell, mirtle, ivy, date, which hold
Their leaves all winter, be it ne’er so cold;
p.141The firre, that oftentimes doth rosin drop;
The beech, that scales the welkin with his top:
All these and thousand more within this grove,
By all the industry of nature strove
To frame an arbour that might keepe within it
The best of beauties that the world hath in it.”

Since the royal visit, Lord Ravensworth’s residence hasbeen calledPercy Cross, but no reason has been assignedfor the alteration of name from Purser’s Cross, which ismentioned as a point “on the Fulham road betweenParson’s Green and Walham Green,” so far back as1602, and at which we shall presently arrive. View of Percy CrossNo connection whatever that I am aware of exists between thelocality and the Percy family, and it only affords another, veryrecent local example of what has been as happily as quaintlytermed “the curiosity of change.”  The mostfavourable aspect of the house is, perhaps, the view gained of itfrom a neighbouring garden across a piece of water called EelBrook, which ornaments an adjacent meadow.

John Ord, Esq., the creator of Lord Ravensworth’s Londonresidence, is better known as “Master Ord.”  Hewas the only son of Robert Ord, Chief Baron of the Court ofExchequer in Scotland.  In 1746 Mr. Ord entered TrinityCollege, Cambridge, and in 1762, vacated a lay fellowshipp.142by marriage with Eleanor, the second daughter of JohnSimpson, Esq., of Bradley, in the county of Durham.  Afterbeing called to the bar, Mr. Ord practised in the Court ofChancery; and, in 1774, was returned to parliament as member forMidhurst.  In 1778 he was appointed Master of Chancery; andthe next session, when returned member for Hastings, was chosenchairman of “Ways and Means,” in which situation hisconduct gave much satisfaction.  Mr. Ord retired fromparliament in 1790, and in 1809 resigned his office of Master inChancery, and that of Attorney-General for Lancaster thefollowing year, when “he retired to a small place atPurser’s Cross, in the parish of Fulham, where he had earlyin life amused himself in horticultural pursuits, and where thereare several foreign trees of his own raising remarkable both fortheir beauty and size.”

Lysons, in 1795, says—

“While I am speaking upon thissubject” (the trees planted by Bishop Compton in thegardens of Fulham Palace), “it would he unpardonable toomit the mention of a very curious garden near Walham Green inthis parish, planted, since the year 1756, by its presentproprietor, John Ord, Esq., Master in Chancery.  It is not alittle extraordinary that this garden should, within the space offorty years (such have been the effects of good management and afertile soil), have produced trees which are now the finest oftheir respective kinds in the kingdom.  As a proof of thismay be mentioned thesophora Japonica, planted anno 1756,then about two feet high, now eight feet in girth, and aboutforty in height; a standardGinko tree, planted about theyear 1767, two feet three inches in girth; and an Illinoiswalnut, two feet two inches in girth, growing where it was sownabout the year 1760.  Among other trees, very remarkablealso for their growth, though not to be spoken of as the largestof their kind, are a black walnut-tree (sown anno 1757), aboutforty feet high, and five feet four inches in girth; a cedar ofLibanus (planted inp. 1431756), eight feet eight inches ingirth; a willow-leaved oak (sown anno 1757), four feet in girth;the Rhus Vernix, or varnish sumach, four feet in girth; and astone pine of very singular growth.  Its girth at one footfrom the ground is six feet four inches; at that height itimmediately begins to branch out, and spreads, at least,twenty-one feet on each side, forming a large bush of aboutfourteen yards in diameter.”

The second edition of Lysons’ ‘Environs ofLondon’ appeared in 1810, when the measurement of thesetrees, in June 1808 and December 1809, was placed inapposition.  Faulkner’s ‘History ofFulham,’ published in 1813, carries on the history of theirgrowth for three years more; but as, from the marginal pencilnote signed J. M., and dated January 1835 in Lysons’, I amled to conclude that some of these interesting trees exist nolonger, the following tabular view compiled from these sourcesmay not be unacceptable to the naturalist, who is well awarethat

“Not small the praise the skilful planterclaims,
From his befriended country.”

About the time of Mr. Ord’s death, 6th June, 1814, hisgarden contained much that is remarkable inhorticulture:—

“There was,” we are told, “agood collection of American plants; amongst others, a fineAndromeda Arborea, planted about eight inches high inMarch 1804; and now (1812) eleven feet eight inches high.

“TheGlastonbury Thorn flowered here on Christmasday, 1793.

“In the kitchen garden is (1812) a moss-rose, which hasbeen much admired.  Many years ago Mr. Ord ordered hisgardener to lay a moss-rose, which, when done, he thought lookedso well, he would not allow the layers to be taken off, but laidthem down year after year, till it covered the ground it does atpresent, viz. a diameter of forty-seven feet; want of room hasconfined it to its present size for several years.”

 

p. 144Girth at 3 feet from the ground in1793

Girth in June 1808

Girth in December 1809

Girth in 1812 (Faulkner)

Girth in Jan 1835 J.M.

 

f.   i.

f.  i.

f.  i.

f.  i.

f.  i.

Sophora japonica,[144a] in 1809, about50 feet in height; it flowered for the first time in August 1807,and has continued to flower the two succeeding years.

 

8    0

 

9   4

 

9   7½

 

10  1

 

0   0

Ginko-tree (Ginko biloba, standard) about 37feet high.

 

2    3

 

3   6

 

3   9

 

3   10

 

0   0

A tree from an Illinois-nut, given by Mr. Aiton to Mr.Ord, about 40 feet high.[144b]

 

2    2

 

2  10

 

2  11

 

3    0

 

0   0

A black walnut-tree, (juglans niger), sown where itstands in 1757, about 64 feet high in 1809.

 

5    4

 

6  11[144c]

 

7   3

 

10   0

 

A cedar of Lebanon, when planted being two years old, in1809 being about 55 feet high.

 

8    8

 

9  11[144d]

 

9   9

 

10   0

 

A willow-leaved oak, sown in 1757.

 

4    0

 

5   5[144e]

 

5   7

 

5    10

 

Therhus vernix, or varnish sumach.

 

4    0

 

4   10

 

4   10

 

5     1

 

Fraxinus ornus, which is covered with flowers everyyear.

 

 

 

 

 

3    10

 

Gleditsia triacanthus, sown in 1759, produced pods2 feet long in 1780, but the seeds imperfect.

 

 

 

 

 

4     8

 

Acacia common, sown in 1757, planted where itstands in 1758.

 

 

 

 

7     7

 

Ilex

 

 

 

6     9

 

Tulip-tree, sown where it stands in 1758, firstflowered in 1782.

 

 

 

 

 

5     6

 

Cyprus deciduus, sown in 1760

 

 

 

5     6

 

Corylus colurna (Constantinople hazel), between 30and 40 feet high, bears fruit, but imperfect.

 

 

 

 

3     2

 

Virginian cedar, (red) sown in 1758

 

 

 

 

4     0

 

Guilandina dioica, orbonduc

 

 

 

2     1

 

Juglans alba, or white hickory.

 

 

 

 

3     1

 

Lombardy, orPo poplar, a cutting in 1766near 100 feet high.

 

 

 

 

10    0

 

Poplar, planted in 1772

 

 

 

8     6

 

Another column headed 1845, carrying out thisview, would be an important addition to statisticalobservation.

p.145Two agaves, or American aloes, flowered in Mr.Ord’s greenhouse in the summer of 1812, one of which was abeautiful striped variety.  The plants had been there sincethe year 1756.  Amid all these delightful associations,there is one melancholy event connected with the place.  Onthe night of the 9th September, 1807, a fire broke out in thegarden-house of Mr. Ord’s residence (a cottage upon thesite of the present stables): the flame raged so furiously as toburn the principal gardener, an old and valued servant, almost toashes before any help could be afforded to him.  Upon thefollowing Sunday (13th), the Rev. John Owen, the then curate ofFulham, preached so effective a sermon upon the uncertainty ofthe morrow,[145] that having printed a large impression“without any loss to himself,” a second editionappeared on the 3rd of the following month.

In the second volume of the ‘Transactions of theHorticultural Society,’ a beautifully-colouredrepresentation of ‘Ord’s apple’ may be found,illustrative of Mr. Salisbury’s communication respectingit, which was read to the Society on the 17th of January,1817.  After acknowledging his obligations to Mrs. AnneSimpson, the sister of Mrs. Ord, and who Mr. Salisbury representsas “being as fond of gardening as her late brother-in-law,Mr. Ord,” it is stated that,—

“About forty years ago, the late John Ord,Esq. raised, in his garden atPurser’s Cross, nearFulham, an apple-tree from the seed of the New-town pippin,imported from North America.  When this tree began to bear,its fruit, though without any external beauty, proved remarkablygood, and had a peculiar quality, namely, ap. 146meltingsoftness in eating, so that it might be said almost to dissolvein the mouth.  The late Mr. Lee, of Hammersmith, often hadgrafts of this tree, and he sold the plant so raised first withthe name of Ord’s apple, and subsequently with the name ofNew-town pippin. . . . .

“This seedling tree,” continues Mr. Salisbury,“is now (1817) of large dimensions, its trunk being fourfeet four inches round at a yard above the ground; but it has oflate years been very unhealthy, and scarcely borne any fruitworth gathering, its roots having, no doubt, penetrated into astratum of unfavourable soil.”

Mrs. Anne Simpson sowed some pippins from this remarkabletree,—

“And two of the healthiest seedlings of thissecond generation were planted out to remain in thekitchen-garden, which are now (1817) about twenty yearsold.  One of these trees began to bear fruit very soon,which is not unlike that of its parent in shape, with a thinskin; and, being a very good apple, grafts of it have beendistributed about the metropolis with the name ofSimpson’s pippin.  The other seedling of thesecond generation was several years longer in bearing fruit; and,when it did, the apples were quite of a different shape, beinglong, with a thick skin and poor flavour, and so numerous as tobe all very small.  Of late years, however, they havegradually improved so much in flavour, as to become a remarkablyspirited, juicy apple, attaining a good size, which has probablybeen promoted by thinning them, though a full crop has alwaysbeen left upon the tree; and they are now greatly esteemed by allwho taste them.”

This apple is in perfection for eating from Christmas to themiddle of March.  The skin is thick, and always of a greencolour while on the tree, but tinged with copper-coloured red,and several darker spots on the sunny side; after the fruit hasbeen gathered some time, the green colour changes to a yellowishcast.  It may be mentioned that, before the death of thelate Lord Ravensworth, the house was inhabited by thosecelebrated artistes, Madame Grisi and Signor Mario.

p.147On the opposite side of the road to LordRavensworth’s, and a few yards beyond it, on the way toFulham, is Walham Lodge, formerly Park Cottage, a modernwell-built house, which stands within extensive grounds,surrounded by a brick wall.  This was for some years theresidence of Mr. Brand, the eminent chemist, who particularlydistinguished himself by the course of lectures which hedelivered on geology, at the Royal Institution, in 1816; andwhich may be dated as the popular starting point of that branchof scientific inquiry in this country.

A house, now divided into two, and called Dungannon House andAlbany Lodge, abuts upon the western boundary wall of the groundsof Walham Lodge. Dungannon House—Albany LodgeTradition stoutly asserts that this united cottage and villawere, previous to their division, known by the name ofBolingbroke Lodge, and that here Pope did, more thanonce,

“Awake my St. John,”

by an early morning visit.

At Albany Lodge, the farthest part of the old house in ourview (then Heckfield Villa), resided Mr. Milton, before-mentionedas having lived at Heckfield Lodge, Little Chelsea; both of whichnames were introduced on the Fulham Road, from thatgentleman’s attachment to the name of his reverendfather’s living, near Basingstoke.

p.148Dungannon House formerly went by the name of AcaciaCottage, and was so called from a tree in the garden.  Itwas for many years the country residence of Mr. Joseph Johnson,of St. Paul’s Churchyard, a publisher worthy of literaryregard; and here he died on the 20th of December, 1809.  Hewas born at Liverpool, in 1738; and, after serving anapprenticeship in London, commenced business as a medicalbookseller, upon Fish Street Hill; “a situation he chose asbeing in the track of the medical students resorting to thehospitals in the Borough, and which probably was the foundationof his connexions with many eminent members of thatprofession.”

Having entered into partnership, he removed to PaternosterRow, where his house and stock were destroyed by fire, in 1770:after which, feeling the advantage of a peculiar locality, hecarried on business alone, until the time of his death, at thehouse which all juvenile readers who recollect the caterers fortheir amusement and instruction will remember as that of“Harris and Co., corner of St. Paul’sChurchyard.”  This step was considered at the time, by“the trade,” as a bold and inconsiderate measure; butit was successfully imitated by the late Mr. Murray, in hisremoval from Fleet Street to Albemarle Street; and, indeed, JohnMurray, as a publisher, seems only to have been a fearlesscopyist, in many matters, of Joseph Johnson.  Whether, as atradesman, he was judicious or not in so doing, is a questionupon which there may be two opinions; but there can be nohesitation about the perfect application of Dr. Aikin’swords to both parties:—

“The character Mr. Johnson established byhis integrity, goodp. 149sense, and honourable principles ofdealing, soon raised him to eminence as a publisher; and many ofthe most distinguished names in science and literature during thelast half century appear in works which he ushered to theworld.”

The imprint of Johnson is to be found upon the title-pageswhich first introduced Cowper and Darwin to notice:—

“The former of these, with the diffidence,and perhaps the despondency, of his character, had actually, bymeans of a friend, made over to him (Johnson) his two volumes ofpoems, on no other condition than that of securing him fromexpense; but when the public, which neglected the first volume,had discovered the rich mine opened in theTask, andassigned the author his merited place among the first-rateEnglish poets, Mr. Johnson would not avail himself of hisadvantage, but displayed a liberality which has been warmlyacknowledged by that admirable, though unfortunate,person.”

A score of equally generous anecdotes might be told ofMurray.  In one particular, however, there was, aspublishers, a decided difference between the views of Johnson andMurray.  Those of Johnson are at present in the ascendancy;but they may produce a revolution in favour of the opinion ofJohn Murray against cheap literature.  Johnson was theopponent of typographical luxury.  Murray, on the contrary,supported the aristocracy of the press, until obliged, “bythe pressure from without,” in some degree to compromisehis views by the publication of the ‘FamilyLibrary.’

In the wing (comparatively speaking a modern addition)attached to this house, and in the room where Mr. Johnson died,is a remarkable chimney-piece, of a monumental character; but Ican learn nothing respecting it.

p.150The history of Dungannon House when Acacia Cottage,could we procure a correct record of all the ideas whichChimney-piece have passed through the human mind within its walls,respecting literature and art, would form a chronicle of singularinterest.  The late Mr. Hullmandel, well known as one of themost experienced and successful practitioners of lithography inEngland, resided here in 1839 and 1840, when he discovered a newprocess in his favourite art, by simple mental reasoning, uponthe application of the process of copperplate aquatint tolithographic purposes.  For this discovery—and it isone of considerable importance—he subsequently took out apatent, under the name of lithotint.  Ever since the infancyof lithography, hundreds of persons connected with the art,beginning with its inventor himself, Senefelder, had endeavouredto produce impressions from stone of subjects executed with thebrush, in the same manner as drawings are made with sepia, orIndian ink. p. 151And it was natural enough thatartists should have made every effort to supersede the tediousand elaborate process by which alone a liquid could be renderedavailable for the purpose of drawing on stone.  The mode ofdrawing technically called “the ink style,” consistsmerely of a series of lines, some finer, some thicker, executedon the white surface of the stone, with ink dissolved in water,by means of a fine sable or a steel pen, in imitation of anetching on copper.  All attempts, however, at producingvariety of tints, by using the ink thicker or thinner,failed,—the fainter lines either disappearing altogether,or printing as dark as thick ones.  In every attempt made touse this ink as a wash, the result was still more disastrous,producing only one dirty mass of indistinctness, amid which theoriginal drawing was scarcely to be traced.  For twentyyears did Mr. Hullmandel labour to attain some mode of printingdrawings, made by a series of washes, with a brush, on stone,feeling this to be the great desideratum in the art. Lithographers in Germany, in France, and in this country, hadpronounced it to be “utterly impossible;” when theidea suddenly flashed upon him, that, if he could effect a minutegranulation of the ink, by treating it as a copperplate engraverwould the ground of an aquatint plate, the relative strength ofthe different washes might be preserved.  He hastened fromAcacia Cottage to his printing-office in London, to put histheory into practice, and was rewarded by the most satisfactoryresults.

Since that period, several prints, by this process oflithotint, were produced by Mr. Hullmandel, from drawings made byHarding, Nash, Haghe, Walton, and other cleverp. 152artists, inwhich all the raciness, the smartness, and the beauty of touch,are apparent, which hitherto could only be found in the originaldrawing. Arundel House—frontArundel House—backIn fact, lithotint was not a translation, but amultiplication of the original; and its discovery, or, rather,the proper application of knowledge, became an eventful era inthe history of the fine arts.

Arundel House, a few yards beyond Dungannon House, stands onthe same side of the road, opposite to Parson’s Green Lane,which leads to the King’s Road.  It is a house ofconsiderable antiquity, judging from the stone mullions broughtto light by some repairs,—probably as old as the time ofHenry VIII.; although the brick front, as shown above, appears tobe the work of the latter part of the seventeenth century.

The back of Arundel House is quite different in character, andretains anp. 153old porch leading into thegarden.  At the farther end of the garden a venerableyew-tree arbour exists; and notArundel House porch and Yew Tree Arbour far from it used to stand a picturesque old pump, with thedate 1758 close to the spout; which pump is now removed, and anew one put in its place.  Upon a leaden cistern at the backof Arundel House, the following monogram occurs beneath anearl’s coronet, with the date 1703:—Old Pump and monogramNotwithstanding that this is obviously compounded of theletters L. I. C., or C. I. L., and at the first glance with thep.154connexion of an earl’s coronet and a date wouldappear to present no difficulty respecting the correctappropriation, I must confess my inability to state to whom themonogram belonged.  For the name of Arundel I am equallyunable to account.  No mention whatever is made of thishouse by Mr. Faulkner; nor does the name of Arundel occur in theparish records of Fulham, although in 1724, as before mentioned,Stanley Grove House appears to have been in the possession ofHenry Arundel.  In the midst of this obscurity, theresidence of the late Mr. Hallam, the historian, who occupiedArundel House in 1819, invests it with a literary association ofinterest.

On the opposite side of the road is the carriage entrance toPark House, which stands in Parson’s Green Lane.  Astone tablet has been let into one of the piers of the gateway,inscribed

Purser’s Cross,
7th August,
1738.

This date has reference to an occurrence which the monthlychronologer in the ‘London Magazine’ thusrelates:—

“An highwayman having committed severalrobberies on Finchley Common, was pursued to London, when hethought himself safe, but was, in a little time, discovered at apublic-house in Burlington Gardens, refreshing himself and hishorse; however, he had time to remount, and rode through HydePark, in which there were several gentlemen’s servantsairing their horses, who, taking the alarm, pursued him closelyas far as Fulham Fields, where, finding no probability ofescaping, he threw money among some country people who were atwork in the field, and told them they would soon see the end ofan unfortunate man.  He had no sooner spoke these words buthe pulledp. 155out a pistol, clapped it to his ear,and shot himself directly, before his pursuers could preventhim.  The coroner’s inquest brought in their verdict,and he was buried in a cross road, with a stake drove throughhim; but ’twas not known who he was.”[155a]

In the ‘Beauties of England and Wales,’“Purser’s Cross” is said to have been corruptedfrom “Parson’s Cross,” and the vicinity ofParson’s Green is mentioned in support of theconjecture.  However, that Purser, and not Percy Cross, hasbeen for many years the usual mode of writing the name of thislocality is established by the ‘Annual Register’ for1781, where the following remarkable coincidence ismentioned:—

“Died, 30th December, 1780, atPurser’s Cross, Fulham, Mrs. Elizabeth and Mrs. FrancesTurberville, in the seventy-seventh year of their ages, ofancient and respectable west country family; they were twinsisters, and both died unmarried.  What adds to thesingularity of this circumstance, they were both born the sameday, never were known to live separate, died within a few days ofeach other, and were interred on the same day.”

Park House presents a fac-simile of an old mansion which stoodprecisely on the same site, and was known as Quibus Hall, a name,as is conjectured, bestowed upon it in consequence of somedispute respecting possession between the coheirs of Sir MichaelWharton, who died about 1725.[155b]  Whenrebuilt by Mr. Holland for the late Mr. Powell, it was calledHigh Elms House, and was for some time occupied as a school,conducted by the Rev.p. 156Thomas Bowen, who published in 1798‘Thoughts on the Necessity of Moral Discipline inPrisons.’  After Mr. Bowen’s death in thefollowing year, his widow, with the assistance of the Rev. JoshuaRuddock, carried on the establishment until 1825, since whichtime Park House became the occasional residence of Mr. Powell, ofQuex, in the Isle of Thanet, until his death in 1849.  Acottage opposite (formerly “Brunswick Cottage”) wascalled “Rosamond’s Bower,” during the time thelate Mr. Crofton Croker lived in it (1837–46).

In a privately printed description of this cottage, when theresidence of Mr. Croker, of which but a very few copies weredistributed to his friends, Mr. Croker himself writes:—

“In what, it may be asked, originates theromantic name of ‘Rosamond’s Bower?’  Aquestion I shall endeavour to answer.  The curious readerwill find from Lysons’ ‘Environs of London’(II. 359), that the manor of Rosamonds is an estate nearParson’s Green, in theOld Rosamond’s Bower and Park House, from a Sketch made about 1750p. 157parish of Fulham.  Lysons adds,‘the site of the mansion belonging to this estate, now(1795) rented by a gardener, is said, by tradition, to have beena palace of Fair Rosamond.’  There seems to be,however, no foundation beyond the name for this tradition, and itis unnoticed by Faulkner in his ‘History of Fulham,’published in 1813.  He merely mentions, adjoining High Elms,or Park House, an old dwelling, which ‘ancienthouse,’ continues Faulkner, ‘appears to be of the ageof Elizabeth, and is commonly called Rosamond’sBower.’  This ‘ancient house’ was takendown by Mr. Powell, in the year 1826, and the present stables ofPark House are built upon the site.  But I have recentlylearned that the name of ‘Rosamond’s Dairy’ isstill attached to an old house probably built between two andthree hundred years, which stands a little way back from thehigh-road at the north-west corner of Parson’s Green.

“I have always felt with Dr. Johnson that relics arevenerable things, and are onlynot to be worshipped. When, therefore, I took my cottage, in 1837, and was told thatthe oak staircase in it had belonged to the veritable‘Rosamond’s Bower,’ and was the only relic ofit that existed; and when I found that the name had no longer aprecise ‘local habitation’ in Fulham, I ventured,purely from motives of respect for the memory of the past, andnot from any affectation of romance, to revive an ancientparochial name which had been suffered to die out, ‘likethe snuff of a candle.’  In changing its precisesituation, in transferring it from one side of Parson’sGreen Lane to the other, a distance, however, not fifty yardsfrom the original site, I trust when called upon to show causefor the transfer, to be reasonably supported by the history ofthe old oak staircase.  Indeed I may here venture to assertthat the change of name from ‘BrunswickCottage,’—so was ‘Rosamond’s Bower’called when I took it,—and the assumption of that name, ifcontrasted with the name changing and name travelling fashion ofthe district, is a proceeding in which I am fully borne out bynumerous precedents.

“Miss Edgeworth, in her reply, dated 31st January, 1840,to the letter of a juvenile correspondent (then nine years ofage) inquires, ‘Is Rosamond’s Bower a realname?’  And I well remember the gestures and even someof the jests which the omnibus passengers made when‘Rosamond’s Bower’ was first painted upon thestone caps of the gate piers, such as Father Prout’s‘Rosy-man’s Bower near theWhiteSheaf’ (Wheatsheaf).  But the novelty wore off in aweek orp. 158two, and the name has long sinceceased to be an object of speculation to any but theinquisitive.  For their information I may state, that in thetime of Elizabeth all the gardeners’ cottages in thisneighbourhood were called bowers.  It was the Saxon term fora room, and, therefore, applied to the dwelling occupied by thelabouring class.  And Rosamond, or Rosaman, is said to havebeen the name of a family of gardeners bestowed upon the districtwhich they had long cultivated—possibly a sobriquet derivedfrom the fame of their roses in times when that flower was abadge of party distinction. . . .  It only remains for me toadd, that ‘Rosamond’s Bower’ stands 22 feetback from the high road, and has a small garden or court beforeit, measuring, exclusive of the stable-yard, 63 feet.  Thegarden behind the house is of that form called a gore, graduallynarrowing from 63 to 22 feet, in a distance of 550 feet or 183yards—five turns up and down which ‘long walk’may be reckoned, by exercise meters, ‘a full mile,’it being 73 yards over and above the distance, an ample allowancefor ten short turnings.  Of the old ‘Rosamond’sBower’ three representations have been preserved; two ofthese are pen-and-ink sketches by Mr. Doherty, made about themiddle of the last century, one of which is an authority for thename of Pershouse Cross.  The third view appears in awell-executed aquatint plate of ‘Fulham Park School takenfrom the Play Ground.’

“The foundation of the present ‘Rosamond’sBower,’ judging from the brickwork on the south side, andthe thickness of the walls, is probably as old as the time ofElizabeth—I mean the original building which consisted oftwo rooms, one above the other, 12 feet square, and 7 feet inheight.  On the north side of this primitive dwelling was adeep draw-well.  Subsequently two similar rooms wereattached, one of which (the present hall) was built over thewell, and two attics were raised upon this very simple structure,thus increasing the number of rooms from two to six.  Then akitchen was built (the present dining-room), and another roomover it (the present drawing-room), at the back of the originalbuilding, which thus from a labourer’s hut assumed the airof an eight-roomed cottage.  It was then discovered that therooms were of very small dimensions, and it was considerednecessary to enlarge four of them by the additional space to begained from bay windows in the dining-room, drawing-room, bluebedchamber, and dressing-room.  But the spirit ofimprovement seldom rests content, and when it was found that thep.159kitchen, which looked upon the garden, was a moreagreeable sitting-room, both as to aspect and quiet, than themore ancient and smaller room which looked upon the road, it wasdetermined to create another attachment on the north side, bybuilding a kitchen of still larger dimensions, with a sculleryand storeroom behind, to replace the old scullery and out-officesby a spacious staircase, and over this new kitchen to place aroom of corresponding size, or equal to that of the two bedroomsupon the same line of building.  Thus in 1826 did‘Rosamond’s Bower’ become a cottage of tenrooms; and as it was soon afterwards presumed from the march ofluxury that no one could live in a decade cottage withoutrequiring a coachhouse and stable, an excellent one was built notfar from the north side, making the third, though not the last,addition in that direction.

“Parva domus! nemorosa quies,
Sis tu quoque nostris hospitium laribus
Subsidium diu: postes tuas Flora ornet
Pomonaque mensas.”

THE GARDEN.

“It is much more difficult to describe the garden ofRosamond’s Bower than its shape.  I may, however,mention that by means of a sunk fence[159] and a wen-like excrescence upon theoriginal gore, made in the Spring of 1842, the extensive meadowof Park House, with the piece of water which adorns it, appear tobelong to my residence so completely, that so far as the eyequestions the matter, ‘I am monarch of all Isurvey.’ Distant View of ‘Rosamond’s Bower’ from the adjoining MeadowThe first lawn of the garden rejoices in two very remarkabletrees, one a standard Ayrshire rose, rising ten feet in heightfrom a stem ten inches in circumference, and from which, duringsunny June, ‘every breeze, of red rose leaves brings down ap.160crimson rain.’[160]  The other aweeping ash of singularly beautiful proportions.  It hasbeen trained, or rather restrained, to the measurement offifty-six feet in circumference, the stem being two feet round,and the branches shooting out at the height of five feet withincredible luxuriance.  Under its branches I had thepleasure of seeing no less than thirty-eight friends sit down tobreakfast on the 22nd June, 1842; and Gunter, who laid covers forforty-four, assured me, that another arrangement with circulartables, made for the purpose, would have comfortably accommodatedsixty.  A miniature shrubbery, not in height, but inbreadth, intervenes between the first lawn and the flower garden,where, in the centre of beds, stands the ‘BaylisVase’—a memorial, I sincerely trust, of a moreenduring friendship.  Miss Aikin’s question—buta very long acquaintance with that lady’s fame warrants mehere writing ‘Lucy Aikin’s question—to me, oneevening while walking down the garden, whether that urn had beenplaced over the remains of any favourite, was the occasion of thefollowing lines being painted on it:—

Think not that here was placed this urn
To mark a spot o’er which to mourn.
Should tender thoughts awake a tear
For fading flowers or waning year,
Remember that another spring,
Fresh flowers and brighter hopes will bring.

Two elevated strawberry beds, facetiously termed ‘twinstrawberry hills,’ rear themselves between the vase and theback lawn, the further corners of which are respectivelyprotected from wheelbarrow intrusion by an Irish Quern and aCapsular Stone, venerated in Irish tradition—the former aremarkably perfect, the latter an exceedingly compact specimen,having on one side a double, and on the other a single hollow. .. .  The remaining points of interest in my garden may benoticed in a very few words.  It gradually decreases inbreadth, and is fenced off on one side from the garden of a verykind neighbour (which contains two of the finest walnut trees inthe parish) by an oak paling partially covered with broad, orIrish, and embellished by the picturesque narrow-leaved ivy.

“On the other side a trim hedge, kept breast high, whichruns beside ‘the long walk,’ separates it from theextensive meadow ofp. 161Park House, and at the terminationthe following inscription from one of Herrick’s poems hasbeen placed—

      Thine own dear grounds,
Not envying others larger bounds,
For well thou knowest ’tis not the extent
Of land makes life, but sweet content.

“The garden produces plenty of strawberries, anabundance of raspberries, and generally a good crop of apples andpears, but few vegetables; the cultivation, except of asparagus(of which there are two excellent beds), having been abandoned,as the bird monopoly of peas, caused every shilling’s worththat came to table to cost five, and the ingenuity of the slugsand snails having completely baffled all amateur gardeningschemes of defence against their slimy invasions. Rustic benchAmong many experiments I may mention one.  Somevegetables were protected by a circumvallum of salt; but,notwithstanding, the slugs and snails contrived to pass thissupposed deadly line of demarcation by fixing themselves on dryleaves which they could easily lift, and thus they wriggledsafely over it.  My greatest enjoyment in the garden hasbeen derived from a rustic bench at the north side of theshrubbery, through the back and arms of which a honeysuckle hasluxuriantly interlaced itself; there, particularly whenrecovering from illness, I have sat, and have found, or fancied,that pain was soothed, and depressed spirits greatly elevated, bythe monotonous tone of the bees around me.”

The pamphlet from which the above has been taken then entersinto a minute description of the curiosities, pictures, &c.,collected by Mr. Croker at ‘Rosamond’s Bower,’which it is unnecessary further to refer to; indeed, althoughintended for private circulation only, it was not completed, asMr. Croker was led to believe it might appear but an egotisticaldescription of an unimportant house.

The following particulars, connected with Thomasp.162Moore’s visit to ‘Rosamond’sBower,’ may prove interesting:—

On the 6th October, 1838, Moore wrote to Mr. Crofton Croker asfollows:—

“Many thanks for your wish to have me atRosamond’s Bower, even though I was unlucky enough not toprofit by that wish—some other time, however, you must, formy sake, try again; and I shall then be most ready for arummage of your Irish treasures.  Already, indeed, I havebeen drawing a little upon your ‘Researches in the South ofIreland;’ and should be very glad to have more books ofyours to pilfer.

“Yours, my dear Mr. Croker,
“Very truly,
Thomas Moore.”

On the 18th November, 1841, Major-General (then Colonel) SirCharles O’Donnell lunched at Rosamond’s Bower; beforeluncheon Mr. Croker happened to point out to him the passage inthe preface of the fourth volume of Moore’s Works, p. xxxv,in which the poet says—

“With the melody entitled, ‘Love,Valour, and Wit,’ an incident is connected, which awakenedfeelings in me of proud, but sad pleasure, to think that my songshad reached the hearts of some of the descendants of those greatIrish families, who found themselves forced, in the dark days ofpersecution, to seek in other lands a refuge from the shame andruin of their own;—those whose story I have associated withone of their country’s most characteristic airs:—

‘Ye Blakes and O’Donnells, whose fathersresign’d
The green hills of their youth, among strangers to find
That repose which at home they had sigh’d for invain.’

“From a foreign lady, of this ancientextraction,—whose names, could I venture to mention them,would lend to the incident an additional Irish charm,—Ireceived about two years since, through the hands of a gentlemanto whom it had been intrusted, a large portfolio, adorned insidewith a beautiful drawing representing Love, Wit, and Valour, asdescribed in the song.  In the border that surrounds thedrawingp. 163are introduced the favourite emblemsof Erin, the harp, the shamrock, the mitred head of St. Patrick,together with scrolls containing each, inscribed in letters ofgold, the name of some favourite melody of the fair artist.

“This present was accompanied by the following letterfrom the lady herself—”

It is unnecessary to quote this letter, but the gentlemanalluded to was Sir Charles O’Donnell, who had brought theparcel from the Continent, and being about to proceed to Canada,and personally unacquainted with Moore, requested Mr. Croker toget it safely delivered; who took the present opportunity ofpointing out to Sir Charles this public acknowledgment that hiscommission had been executed.

They had not been at luncheon many minutes when Mr. Moore wasannounced, and appeared to be no less pleased at meeting SirCharles O’Donnell, than the latter was at being introducedto Moore.

A few days afterwards, Mr. Croker received the following notefrom Mr. Moore:—

November 24, 1841.

Dear Croker,

“I was obliged to leave London much sooner than Ioriginally intended, and thus lost the opportunity of paying youanother visit. . . .  My next visit to London will, I hope,be sufficiently free from other avocations to allow me to devotea good deal of time to the examination of your varioustreasures.  Pray give my kind remembrances to Mrs.Croker.—I constantly think of my great good luck inlighting by chance on so agreeable a dinner-party that day. The only drawback was, that it spoiled me—both mentally andphysically speaking—for the dinner that followed.

“Yours very truly,
Thomas Moore.”

The name ofMoore was subsequentlycut by Mr. Croker on the back of a chair which the poet occupiedduring thisp. 164visit.  It produced thefollowing epigram by the Rev. Francis Mahony (FatherProut):—

“This is to tell o’ days
   When on this Cathedra,
He of the Melodies
   Solemnly sat, agrah!”

Mr. Thomas James Bell, the next tenant of‘Rosamond’s Bower,’ altered the name to‘Audley Cottage,’ which it now bears, and theagreeable associations connected with the former title are in therecollection of many who may be unaware of the change, and mayregret the substitution of a name, for which there appears tohave been very little reason.

Parson’s Green Lane continues from Rosamond’sBower to Parson’s Green.  It is for the most partcomposed of small cottages.  On the left-hand corner of theGreen is the ‘White Horse’ public-house, the sign ofwhich was, some few years ago supported by the quaint piece ofiron-work shown in the annexed cut.  It is now altered.

Iron-work sign and White Horse Public-House

East End House, on the east side of the Green, next thep.165pond, was originally built by Sir Francis Child, whowas Lord Mayor of London, in 1699.  It was afterwards theresidence of Admiral Sir Charles Wager; and Dr. Ekins, Dean ofCarlisle, died here 20th November, 1791.  The house wassubsequently modernized by the late John Powell, and became theresidence of Mrs. Fitzherbert, who erected the porch in front ofthe house as a shelter for carriages.  Here the Prince ofWales (afterwards George IV.) was a frequent visitor. Piccolomini lived here for a short time lately.

The celebrated Sir Thomas Bodley lived at Parson’s Greenfrom 1605 to 1609.  The old mansion at the west side of theGreen was formerly the Rectory House, and is traditionallyreported to have been the residence of Adoniram Byfield, thenoted Presbyterian Chaplain to Colonel Cholmondeley’sregiment in the Earl of Essex’s army, who took so prominenta part in Cromwellian politics, that he became immortalized inHudibras. The Rectory HouseAn old stone building is noticed by Bowack in 1705, asadjoining this house, and presumed by him to be of three or fourhundred years’ standing, and in all probability a chapelfor the rectors and their domestics.  This building waspulled down, according to Lysons, about thep. 166year 1742,and the house is now divided into two, that at the corner beingoccupied by Dr. Lauman’s Academy.  At the south-westside of the Green is the old entrance to Peterborough House, aresidence with the recollections of which the names of Locke,Swift, Pope, Gay, Prior, and a crowd of others areassociated.

The present Peterborough House, which is a little beyond theold brick gateway, was built by Mr. J. Meyrick, who died there in1801.  Ho was the father of Sir Samuel Meyrick thewell-known antiquary.  Ho purchased the house, in 1794, ofR. Heavyside, Esq., and pulled down the old mansion that stoodclose to the site of the ancient maze, which became convertedinto a lawn at the rear of the modern house.  The place wasoriginallyOld Gate of Peterborough House termed Brightwells, or Rightwells, and here, in 1569, diedJohn Tarnworth, Esq., one of Elizabeth’s privy counsellors,who lies buried at Fulham.

Brightwells afterwards belonged to Sir Thomas Knolles,p.167who, in 1603, sold it to Sir Thomas Smith, who had beensecretary to the unfortunate Earl of Essex, and became, underJames I., Clerk of the Council, Latin Secretary, and Master ofthe Requests; and here he died in 1609, and was buried in thechancel of Fulham Church, where a handsome monument is erected tohis memory.  After Sir Thomas Smith’s death, his widowmarried the first Earl of Exeter, and continued to reside atBrightwells until her death, in 1633.  Sir ThomasSmith’s only daughter having married the Honourable ThomasCarey, the Earl of Monmouth’s second son, he becamepossessed of the estate in right of his wife, and after him theplace was called Villa Carey, which has led to the belief thatold Peterborough House was built by him.  It stood facingthe pond on Parson’s Green, and at about the same distancefrom the road as the present house.  Francis Cleyne, whocame over to England in the reign of Charles I., was certainlyemployed to decorate the rooms.  Mr. Carey died about 1635;and his widow, about five years afterwards, married Sir EdwardHerbert, Attorney-General to King Charles.  Sir Edward was afirm loyalist, and resided at Parson’s Green till the deathof his royal master, when he accompanied Charles II. in hisexile, who created him Lord Keeper of the Great Seal, and he diedabroad in 1657.  His estate was ordered to be sold with theestates of other loyalists in 1653, but the sale does not appearto have taken place, as Villa Carey, in 1660, was in thepossession of Lord Mordaunt, who had married the daughter andheiress of Mr. Carey.  Lord Clarendon bears honourabletestimony to the daring spirit and devoted zealp. 168inthe royal cause evinced by this “young gentleman,”and to the no less chivalric conduct of his charming bride.

“He was,” says the historian,“of great vigour of mind, and newly married to a young andbeautiful lady of a very loyal spirit and notable vivacity of witand humour, who concurred with him in all honourable dedicationsof himself.”

When her husband was arrested and brought to trial in 1658, asa partizan of Charles II., by her contrivance one of theprincipal witnesses against him was kept out of the way, and hisjudges, being divided in their opinion of his guilt, he wasacquitted only by the casting vote of the President, thenotorious John Lisle, who had sat upon the trial of Charles I.,by whom he was addressed in the following remarkablestrain:—

“And I have now to speak to you Mr.Mordaunt: God hath appeared in justice, and God doth appear inmercy, as the Lord is just to them, so the Lord is exceedingmerciful to you, and I may say to you that God appears to you atthis time, as he speaks to sinners in Jesus Christ, for Sir, hedoth clear sinners in Christ Jesus even when they are guilty, andso God cleareth you.  I will not say you are guilty, but askyour own conscience whether you are or no.  Sir, bless Godas long as you live, and bless my Lord Protector, by whoseauthority you are cleared.  Sir, I speak no more, but Ibeseech you to speak to God.”

The very active part which Lord Mordaunt had taken ineffecting the restoration of Charles II., in which service,according to his epitaph, he “encountered a thousanddangers, provoking and also defeating the rage ofCromwell,” was not rewarded by any extraordinary marks ofdistinction or favour, and he seems after that event to havequietly resided on his estate at Parson’s Green, where hedied in the forty-eighth year of his age,p. 169on the 5thJune, 1675, and was buried in Fulham Church.  The son ofLord Mordaunt, who afterwards received the title of Earl ofPeterborough, married first, Carey, daughter to Sir AlexanderFraser, of Dover.  His second wife was the accomplishedsinger Anastasia Robinson, who survived him.  The earl wasvisited at Peterborough House by all the wits and literati of histime.  Bowack, in 1706, describes the gardens ofPeterborough House, as containing twenty acres of ground, andmentions a tulip-tree seventy-six feet in height, and five feetnine inches in girth.  Swift, in one of his letters, speaksof Lord Peterborough’s gardens as the finest he had everseen about London.

On the same side of the Green as Peterborough House, stood theresidence of Samuel Richardson, who removed to Parson’sGreen from North End in 1755, and in this house his second wife,who survived him, died in November, 1773, agedseventy-seven.  Formerly the same house belonged to SirEdward Saunders, Lord Chief Justice of the King’s Bench in1682.  A sketch of the house will be found inChambers’ Cyclopædia of English Literature. Drury Lodge, situated on the King’s Road adjoiningParson’s Green, and immediately opposite the Malt House,formerly known as Ivy Cottage, was built by Walsh Porter in theGothic style, and is now the residence of Mr. E. T. Smith, whohas called the house after his theatre.  The name of thelane which runs down by the side of Drury Lodge has, however, notbeen altered toDrury Lane, but still retains its oldtitle of Broom Lane.

It is said that on the site of what is now called Druryp.170Lodge, was formerly a house, the residence of OliverCromwell, which was called theOld Red Ivy House. Part of the old walls of that building form the west side of thepresent cottage.

Proceeding forward from Purser’s Cross on the mainFulham Road, where St. Peter’s Villa may be noticed as theresidence of Madame Garcia in 1842, about a quarter of a milebrings us to Munster House, which is supposed to owe its name toMelesina Schulenberg, created by George II., in 1716, Duchess ofMunster. Munster house (1844)According to Faulkner, it was also calledMustowHouse—this was not improbably the duchess’spronunciation; and he adds that tradition makes it a hunting-seatof Charles II., and asserts that an extensive park was attachedto it; but Faulkner also tells us that Munster House “wasduring the greater part of the seventeenth century, theresidence and property of Sir William Powell, Bart., whofounded the almshouses.”  How, after this statement,Mr. Faulkner could have admitted the tradition, requires someexplanation, as he seems to have followed, withoutacknowledgment, the particulars supplied to Lysons from authenticdocuments by Mr. Deere, of the Auditor’s Office, whoappears merely to have informedp. 171thatgentleman, that among the title-deeds of this property there isone of Sir Edward Powell’s, dated 1640, and that SirWilliam Powell’s will bears date 1680.  According tothe same unquestionable records, Munster House came from thePowells into the possession of Sir John Williams, Bart., ofPengethly, Monmouthshire.

In 1795, Lysons says that Munster House was “occupied asa school.”  Faulkner, in 1813, states that it was“in the occupation of M. Sampayo, a Portuguesemerchant.”  And his successor in the tenancy was JohnWilson Croker, Esq., M.P., then secretary of the Admiralty, andafterwards the Right Hon. Mr. Croker,[171] a gentleman who brilliantly retiredinto private life, but whose character is so well known, and hasbeen so often discussed in political and literary circles, that Ishall only venture to remark the local coincidence of threeindefatigable secretaries of the Admiralty, during the mostcritical periods of England’s history—namely, SirPhilip Stevens, Sir Evan Nepean, and Mr. Croker—havingselected the quietude of Fulham as the most convenient andattractive position in the neighbourhood of London, where theymight momentarily relax from the arduous strain of officialduties.

Marble bust

About 1820, Mr. Croker resigned Munster House as a residence,after having externally decorated it with various Cockneyembattlements of brick, and collected there many curious works ofart, possibly with a view of reconstruction. p. 172Inthe garden were two marble busts, one of which is figured onprevious page.  The other a female head, not unlike that ofQueen Anne.

There was also a fragment of a group, representing a womanwith a child at her side, obviously the decoration of a fountain,and a rustic stone seat, conjectured to have been the bed of aformidable piece of ordnance.

Woman and child—Rustic stone seat

A recent tenant of Munster House, the Rev. Stephen ReidCattley, who is known to the reading public as the editor of anissue of Fox’s ‘Book of Martyrs,’ wasunacquainted with the history of the relics in the garden, andcan only remember the removal of two composition lions from thegate-piers of Munster House,—not placed there, it must beobserved, by Mr. Croker, but which had the popular effect, forsome time, of changing the name toMonster House.  Itis now a Lunatic Asylum.  Opposite Munster House isDancer’s extensive garden for the supply of the Londonmarket, by the side of which a road runs leading by a turning onthe left direct back to Parson’s Green, or if the straightroad is kept, the King’s Road is reached oppositeOsborn’s Nursery; adjoining whichp. 173nursery isChurchfield House, the residence of Dr. Burchell the Africantraveller.

Fulham LodgeFulham Lodge stood on the opposite, or south side, of theroad from Munster House, on the ground immediately beyond MunsterTerrace, which was built a short time prior to itsdemolition.  This cottage, for it was no more, was afavourite retirement of the late Duke of York.  An affectingstory is told by George Colman the younger, connected with hisown feelings while on a visit here.  He had lost sight of anold college friend, the Rev. Robert Lowth, son of the Bishop ofLondon, from the year 1781 to 1822 (one and forty years!), whenColman was surprised and pleased by the receipt of the followingletter, written and left upon his table by a gentleman who hadcalled when he was not at home:—

August 16,1822.

Dear Colman,—It may besome five-and-thirty years since we met, and I believe as nearforty years as may be since I was promoted from my garret, No. 3Peckwater, into yourci-devant rooms in the old Quad, onwhich occasion I bought your things.  Of all your householdfurniture I possess but one article, which I removed with myselfto my first house and castle in Essex, as a very befittingparsonage sideboard, viz., a mahogany table, with two sidedrawers, and which still ‘does the state someservice,’ though not of plate.  But I have an articleof yours on a smaller scale, a certain little flat mahogany box,furnished partially, I should say, with cakes of paint, whichprobably youp. 174over-looked, or undervalued as avade-mecum, and left.  And, as an exemplification ofthe great vanity of over-anxious care, and the safe preservationper contra, in which an article may possibly be foundwithout any care at all, that paint-box is stillin statuquo, at this present writing, having run the gauntlet, notmerely of my bachelor days, but of the practical cruelties of mythirteen children, all alive and merry, thank God! albeit asunused and as little disposed to preserve their own playthings orchattels from damage as children usually are, yet itsurvives!  ‘The reason why I cannot tell,’unless I kept it ‘for the dangers it had passed.’

“Though I have been well acquainted with you publiclynearly ever since our Christ Church days, our habits, pursuits,and callings, having cast us into different countries and tracts,we have not, I think met since the date I speak of.  I havea house at Chiswick, where I rather think this nine-lived box is,and, whether it is or no, I shall be very glad if you will giveme a call to dine, and take a bed, if convenient to you; and if Icannot introduce you to your old acquaintance and recollections,I shall have great pleasure in substituting new ones,—Mrs.Lowth and eleven of our baker’s dozen of olive-branches,our present complement in the house department, my eldest boybeing in the West Indies, and my third having returned to themilitary college last Saturday, his vacation furlough havingexpired.  As the summer begins to borrow now and then anautumn evening, the sooner you will favour me with your companythe surer you will be of finding me at Grove House, theexpiration of other holidays being the usual signal for weighinganchor and shifting our moorings to parsonage point.  Iremember you, or David Curson, had among your phrases,quondam, one of anything being ‘d---dsummerly;’ I trust, however, having since tasted thedelights of the sweet shady side of Pall Mall, that you have wornout that prejudice, and will catch the season before it flies us,or give me a line, naming no distant day, that I may not beelsewhere when you call, and you will much oblige, yourssincerely,

RobertLowth.”

“P.S.—In your address to me you must not nameChiswick, but Grove House, Turnham Green, as otherwise itgoes into another postman’s walk, who walks it back againto the office, and it does not reach me, per Turnham Green,peripatetic, till the next day, which istoute autrechose.”

p.175Colman seems to have been sincerely delighted at thereceipt of this letter; he answered it immediately, expressing tohis old friend how much he had gratified him, and how readily heaccepted the invitation.

“After refreshing my friend’smemory,” says Colman, “by touching on someparticulars which have already been mentioned, I informed himthat I was of late years in the habit of suburban rustication,and that I had passed a considerable part of my summers in ahouse where I was intimate at Fulham, whither I desired him todirect to me, as much nearer Chiswick than my own abode, beingwithin a few hundred yards of his old family residence, where welast parted.  Whenever I was at this place, I told him theavenue and bishop’s walk by the river side, the publicprecincts of the moated episcopal domain, had become my favouritemorning and evening lounge.  I told him, indeed, merely thefact, omitting all commentary attached to it, for often had Ithen, and oftener have I since, in a solitary stroll down theavenue, thought of him, regretting the wide chasm in ourintercourse, and musing upon human events.”

There is a regret expressed by Colman that he kept no copy ofhis answer, “which,” he adds, “was written inthe ‘flow of soul,’ and at the impulse of themoment?”  Mr. Lowth wrote in reply to Colman,detailing in a most amusing manner his having, in the pursuit oftwo Cockneys, who had made an attack upon a grove of Orleansplum-trees in his grounds, taken cold, which confined him to hisroom.

“But for thisinter poculum etlabra,” continued Mr. Lowth, “it was my intentionto have made you my firstpost restante, with, perhaps, awalk down the old avenue, in my way to town, that identical day;and, still hoping to accomplish three miles and back, I havehoped from day to day, but I cannot get in travelling condition,even for so short a journey.  Therefore I hope you will sendme word by my new Yorkshire groom lad, that you will takepot-luck with me on Sunday as the most likely day for you tosuburbise.”

p.176Colman accepted the invitation, believing from thelength of Mr. Lowth’s letter (three pages), and theplayfulness of his old friend’s communication, that nothingmore than an ordinary cold was the matter with him.  A note,however, which followed from one of Mr. Lowth’s daughters,stated that the meeting proposed by her father must be postponed,that he “had become extremely unwell, that bleeding andcupping had been prescribed,” and the most perfect quietenjoined.

On the day after the receipt of this note, Colman sent over toGrove House, Chiswick, to make inquiries as to Mr. Lowth’shealth, when the reply given by an elderly female at the gate,after considerable delay, was that “her master was nomore.”

A letter from Dr. Badeley to Colman, dated 22d August, 1822,confirmed the melancholy intelligence, which he had at firsthesitated to believe.  It stated that “the decease ofMr. Lowth took place on Sunday evening,” the very eveningappointed by him for their anticipated happy reunion; and thathis remains were to be interred in the family vault at Fulham onMonday morning at ten o’clock.

“I continued,” said Colman, “atFulham Lodge, which is nearer in a direct line to the church thanto the Bishop’s Palace and the ‘oldavenue.’  On Monday the adjacent steeple gave earlynotice of the approaching funeral; religion and sorrow mingledwithin me while the slow and mournful tolling of the bell smoteupon my heart.  Selfish feelings, too, though secondary,might now and then obtrude, for they are implanted in ournature.  My departed friend was about my own age: we hadentered the field nearly at the same time; we had fought, indeed,our chief battles asunder, but in our younger days he had been mycomrade, close to me in the ranks: he had fallen, and my own turnmight speedily follow.”

p.177These are the ideas which George Colman the youngerrecords as having passed through his mind while an inmate ofFulham Lodge:—

“My walk next morning,” he says,“was to the sepulchre of the Lowths, to indulge in themournful satisfaction of viewing the depository of my poorfriend’s remains.  It stands in the churchyard, a fewpaces from the eastern end of the ancient church at Fulham. The surrounding earth, trampled by recent footsteps, and a slabof marble which had been evidently taken out and replaced in theside of the tomb, too plainly presented traces of those rites,which had been performed on the previous day.  For severalmornings I repeated my walk thither, and no summer has sinceglided away, except the last, when my sojournment at Fulham wassuspended, without my visiting the spot and heaving a sigh to thememory of Robert Lowth.”

Theodore Hook’s manuscript Diary contains the followingentries with reference to visits made by him at FulhamLodge:—

“2nd January, 1826.—Called.  Mrs.Carey’s luncheon.

“Thursday, 5th January.—Drove over toFulham.  Mrs. Carey’s din.  Colman, Harris, Mrs.G.  Good hits.  Mrs. Coutts, ‘JuliusCæsar,’ &c.  Stayed very late, and walkedhome.”

Fulham Park Road is now where Fulham Lodge stood, and theground is partly built on, the rest is to be let forbuilding.

This walk is exactly three miles and a half from Hyde ParkCorner; and what an Irishman would call the iron mile-stone stoodexactly opposite to Ivy Lodge, until placed against the brickwall immediately beyond the railings.

Ivy Lodge was for some years the residence of RudolphAckermann, a name, as a printseller, known (it is notp.178using too broad a word to say) throughout the world,and whose representatives still carry on this business in RegentStreet.

Ackermann was a remarkable man.  He was born in 1764, atStollberg, near Schneeberg, in Saxony; and, having been bred acoach-builder, upon visiting England shortly before the FrenchRevolution, found employment as a carriage-draughtsman, which ledto his forming the acquaintance of artists, and becoming aprint-publisher in London.  The French refugees, whosenecessities obliged them to exercise their acquirements andtalents as a means of support, found in Mr. Ackermann’sshop a repository for the exhibition and sale of decorativearticles, which elevated this branch of business to an importancethat it had never before assumed in England. Ackermann’s name stands prominently forward in the earlyhistory of gas and lithography in England, and he must beremembered as the introducer of a species of illustratedperiodicals, by the publication of the‘Forget-Me-Not;’ to which, or to similar works,nearly every honoured contemporary name in the whole circle ofBritish literature have contributed, and which have produced acertain, but advantageously a questionable, influence upon theFine Arts.

After the battle of Leipzig, Mr. Ackermann publicly advocatedthe cause of the starving population of many districts ofGermany, in consequence of the calamities of war, with so muchzeal and success, that a parliamentary grant of £100,000was more than doubled by a public subscription.  In thespring of 1830, when residing at Ivy Lodge, he experienced asudden attack of paralysis; and ap. 179change ofair was recommended by his medical attendants.  This led toMr. Ackermann’s removal to Finchley, where he died on the30th of March, 1834.

Having now arrived at Fulham, we will in the next chapteraccompany the reader in a walk through that ancient village.

The Entrance to Fulham (1844)

p. 180CHAPTER V.

fulham.

In Faulkner’s ‘History of Fulham’ we learnthat the earliest mention of that village occurs in a grant ofthe manor by Tyrhtilus Bishop of Hereford, to Erkenwald Bishop ofLondon, and his successors, about the year 691; in which grant itis calledFulanham.  Camden in his‘Britannia’ calls itFulham, and derives itsname from the Saxon wordFulanham,Volucrum Domus,the habitation of birds or place of fowls.  Norden agreeswith Camden, and adds, “It may also be taken forVolucrum Amnis, or the river of fowl; forHam alsoin many places signifiesAmnis, a river, but it is mostprobable it should be of land fowl, which usually haunt grovesand clusters of trees, whereof in this place it seemeth hath beenplenty.”  In Somner’s and Lye’s Saxondictionaries it is called Fulanham, or Foulham, supposed from thedirtiness of the place.  The earliest historical eventrelating to Fulham, is the arrival of the Danes there in the year879.  On the right hand side as we enter the village standsHolcrofts’Hall (formerly Holcrofts’) builtabout 1708, which is worthy of mention as belonging to JohnLaurie, Esq., and as having beenp. 181theresidence of Sir John Burgoyne, where he gave some cleverdramatic performances, distinguished not only for theconsiderable talent displayed by the actors, but remarkable forthe scenery and machinery, considering the limited space, thewhole of which was superintended by the Honourable Mr.Wrottesley, son of Lord Wrottesley, who afterwards married MissBurgoyne, an admirable amateur actress: here it was that thecelebrated Madame Vestris died, on the 8th August, 1856, in her59th year.  During the time she lived there it was calledGore Lodge.  The house has been since tenanted for a shorttime by Mr. Charles Mathews and his present wife. Holcroft’s Priory, which is opposite, was built upon thesite of Claybrooke House, mentioned by Faulkner.  In theback lane (Burlington Road) Fulham Almshouses are situated,opposite to Burlington House, formerly Roy’s well-knownacademy, on the ground attached to which is now a ReformatorySchool, built about four years ago.  This lane leads to thetermination of the King’s Road by the Ship Tavern. The Almshouses were originally built and endowed by Sir W.Powell, Bart., and were rebuilt in 1793.  The old workhouse(built 1774) still stands on the left-hand side of the HighStreet.  It has been in a dilapidated condition for manyyears, and is about to be pulled down.  The Fulham andHammersmith Union is now in Fulham Fields.  Cipriani livedin a house adjoining the workhouse.  Further on in FulhamHigh Street is the Golden Lion Inn.  There is a traditionthat Bishop Bonner resided in the Old Golden Lion, and that ithad a subterranean communication with the palace.  The lateMr. Crofton Crokerp. 182read the following paper at themeeting of the British Archæological Association at Warwickin 1847:—

Onthe probability of the Golden Lion Inn,at Fulham,having beenfrequented by Shakespeare about the years 1595and 1596.

It is certainly extraordinary that of the personal history ofa man whose writings are of so high an order of genius that theymay almost be considered as works of inspiration, we should knowso little, and that conjecture should have to supply so much, asin the biography of William Shakespeare.

Pilgrims as are we at this moment to the birth-place and thetomb of the highest name in the literature of this country, weall feel that we now tread the classic ground ofEngland—ground too rich in unquestionable memories ofShakespeare, to admit of any feeling of jealousy in an attempt toconnect his fame by circumstantial evidence with any otherlocality.  I therefore venture to call attention to the twofollowing entries in the parish records of Fulham, a village inthe county of Middlesex, on the Thames, about four miles west ofLondon, and where the Bishop of London has a seat.

In an assessment made on the 12th October, 1625, for therelief of the poor of Fulham side, John Florio, Esq., was ratedat six shillings, for his house in Fulham Street.

And in the same assessment upon the “Northend” ofthe parish, the name of Robert Burbage occurs.

Meagre as this appears to be, and wide of the date at which Iaim by thirty years, it is all that I can produce in the shape ofnovel documentary evidence for an attempt to connect the name ofShakespeare with Fulham; the other points which I have to offerin evidence being admitted facts, although no result has beendeduced from them.

In the High Street of Fulham stands a cleanly-looking brickhouse, square in form and newly built, called the Golden Lion,where any suburban traveller requiring refreshment may besupplied with a mug of excellent ale and bread and cheese, in aparlour having a sanded floor, the room, it must be confessed,smelling rather strongly of tobacco smoke:—

“You may break, you may ruin the vase if youwill—
But the scent of the roses will hang round itstill;”—

p.183And so it is, to my mind, with the tobacco smoke of theGolden Lion, which stands upon the site of an old hostelry, orinn, of the Tudor age, which was pulled down in April, 1836, andwas described soon afterwards in the ‘Gentleman’sMagazine.’  While the work of destructionAncient tobacco pipewas going on, a tobacco pipe of ancient and foreign fashionwas found behind the old wainscot.  The stem was a crookedshoot of bamboo, through which a hole had been bored, and a brassornamental termination (of an Elizabethan pattern) formed thehead of the pipe.—Why may not this have been the pipe ofthat Bishop of London who had risen into Elizabeth’s favourby attending Mary on the scaffold at Fotheringay, and who, havingfallen into disgrace in consequence of a second marriage at anadvanced period of his life, sought, we are told, in theretirement of his house at Fulham, “to lose his sorrow in amist of smoke,”—and actually died there suddenly onthe 15th June, 1596, “while sitting in his chair andsmoking tobacco?”

Could this have been the tobacco pipe produced at“Crowner’s ’quest” assembled at theGolden Lion to inquire into the cause of his lordship’ssudden death?  It is not even impossible that it may havebeen produced there by his son, John Fletcher, whose name isassociated with that of Francis Beaumont in our literature.

Mr. Charles Knight has set the example of an imaginarybiography of Shakespeare, and has brought many probable and someimprobable things together on the subject.—Why, then, hashe overlooked the Golden Lion in Fulham?  The name of JohnFletcher naturally leads to this question.  At the time ofhis father’s death, he was in his twentieth year; and whowill doubt that, at that period of his life, his father’s(the Bishop’s) house was his home.  That he may haveresorted to the Golden Lion, and there have met with Shakespeare,is, therefore, quite as probable as that our great dramatistassociated with Fletcher at the Falcon or the Mermaid, if goodcause can only be shown for Shakespeare’s having had asmuch reason to frequent Fulham as the Bank-side—or Boroughof London.

p.184I have already stated that Florio’s house wasassessed for the poor-rate in Fulham Street, on the 12th October,1625, the year of Florio’s death; and be it remembered thatFlorio was the translator of Montaigne’s Essays, of which acopy of the original edition, bearing Shakespeare’s veryrare autograph, was not very long since purchased by the BritishMuseum, at what was considered to be a very large price. When the genuineness of that autograph was keenly discussed amongantiquaries, and the probable date at which the‘Tempest’ was written, became a question, no onepresumed to deny that the coincidences between the passage in the2nd Act of the ‘Tempest’ where Gonzalosays—

“I’ the commonwealth I would by contraries
Execute all things; forno kind of traffic
Would I admit;no name of magistrate;
Letters should not be known:riches,poverty,
And use of service, none: contract,succession;
Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none;
No use of metal, corn or wine or oil;
No occupation; all men idle, all;
And women too; but innocent and pure:
No Sovereignty:”—

is but an echo of the following in Florio’s translationof Montaigne:—

—“It is a nation, would I answer Plato, that hathno kind of traffic, no knowledge of letters, nointelligence of numbers,no name of magistrate, nor ofpolitic superiority; nouse of service, ofriches,or ofpoverty; nocontracts, nosuccessions;no occupation, but idle, no respect of kindred but common; noapparel, but natural; no manuring of lands, no use of wine, corn,or metal,” etc.

 

There are other coincidences also, free from the very greatdifficulty of reconciling satisfactorily printed dates with animaginary career—which coincidences are too remarkable tohave escaped the host of ingenious commentators upon the supposedsources of Shakespeare’s information—of hisobservation what shall I say?

The coincidence between passages in Daniel’s“Civil Warres,” published in 1595, and passages inShakespeare’s Richard II., induce Mr. Charles Knight toobserve that “We”—thereby meaninghimself—“have looked at this poem with some care, andwe cannot avoid coming to the conclusion that, with reference toparts of the conduct of the story, and in a few modes ofexpression, each of which differs from the general narrative andthe particular language of the chroniclers, there aresimilarities betwixt Shakespeare and Daniel whichp.185would lead to the conclusion either that the poem ofDaniel was known to Shakespeare, or the play of Shakespeare wasknown to Daniel.”

This position is, indeed, established by Mr. Knight, whoarrives satisfactorily enough for his own conclusion, that offixing the date of the composition of Shakespeare’s play to1597; adding, candidly enough, that “the exact date isreally of very little importance; and we should not have dweltupon it had it not been pleasant to trace resemblances betweencontemporary poets, who were themselves personalfriends.”

Now, with regard to dates, and the disputed dates of thecomposition of the ‘Tempest,’ it is important toascertain who John Florio and Samuel Daniel were.

We know that Florio was the Italian scholar of his day, andthe Court favourite.  We know that Daniel, whose name is nowscarcely popularly remembered, was helped into the office ofpoet-laureat by his connection with Florio as his brother-in-law,by Florio’s recommendations to be the successor of“that poor poet, Edmund Spenser.”  Here, atonce, by admitting Shakespeare’s personal intimacy withFlorio and Daniel, with his knowledge of their writings, therecan be no question; and supposing that he had seen Florio’stranslation of Montaigne in MS., much difficulty about dates isgot rid of, and we can account for Shakespeare’sacquaintance with Italian literature.

And allow me to add to this the fact noticed by Mr. Collier,in his memoirs of the principal actors in the plays ofShakespeare, printed for the Shakespeare Society, thatShakespeare’s fellow-player, Henry Condell, did some timesojourn at Fulham; for a tract printed in 1625, entitled‘The Runaway’s Answer to a book “A Rod forRunaways,”’ in reply to a pamphlet published byDecker, is inscribed “to our much respected and very worthyfriend, Mr. H. Condell, at his country house atFulham.”  Again, couple with the name of Condell thatof Burbadge, in 1625, at Fulham; is not the association mostextraordinary, although there is no further agreement in theChristian name than the first letter, Robert being that in theFulham assessment of poor-rates, Richard that ofShakespeare’s fellow-actor.  The family name ofBurbadge, however, belongs not to Middlesex, but toWarwickshire.  Alas! for the credit sake of ‘RobertBurbadge, of Northend, Fulham,’ in the place in thepoor-rate assessment of 1625, where the sum should have beeninserted, there is a blank; although twenty-two of his neighboursat North End are contributors of sums varying from 6s. 8d. to1s.

Joshua Sylvester, who was born in 1563 or 1564, and died in1618,p. 186thus describes the village of NorthEnd, Fulham, where his uncle Plumbe resided, and he (Sylvester)formed the attachment which is the subject of hispoem:—

I was wont (for my disport)
Often in the summer season,
To a Village to resort
Famous for the rathe ripe peason,
Where beneath aPlumb-tree shade
Many pleasant walks I made.

And Norden, whom we consider as the father of Englishtopography, dates the address “to all courteousgentlemen,” prefixed to his account of Middlesex andHertfordshire, from his “poore home, near Fulham, 4thNovember, 1596.”

Here, then, we have a mass of facts, which render itimpossible for us to doubt that the Golden Lion, Fulham, musthave been, according to the custom of the times, frequented byFlorio and his brother-in-law Daniel; by Fletcher; by HenryCondell, Shakespeare’s fellow-player; by some one of thename of Burbadge; by Joshua Sylvester, and John Norden, about theyears 1595 and 1596.  Is there not, then, every reasonablepresumption that our immortal Shakespeare was also a member ofthis clique?

Fireplaces in the old Golden Lion

On the pulling down of the Old Inn by Mr. Powell, thepanelling was purchased by Mr. Street, of Brewer Street, andp.187was afterwards sold to Lord Ellenborough, for thefitting up of his Lordship’s residence, Southam House,Cheltenham.

Fulham High Street, which extends from the London Road toChurch Row, appears to have been denominated Bear Street, and iscalled in the more ancient parish books Fulham Street.  Thedirect approach to Fulham Church is by Church Row, which branchesoff to the right of the High Street.  On the left of thechurchyard entrance is the Vicarage.  The present vicar isthe Rev. R. G. Baker.  Opposite the vicarage is a piece ofground, which was consecrated in 1843 by Bishop Blomfield, who isburied there.  Upon this recent addition to theburial-ground formerly stood Miss Batsford’s seminary foryoung gentlemen.  There are several curious old monuments inthe church, which have been described and engraved by Faulkner,to whose work the curious reader may be referred.  In thechurchyard are the tombs and monuments of several of the oldbishops of London—Compton, Robinson, Hayter, Gibson,Terrick, Lowth, Sherlock, and Randolph.

The grave of that distinguished author and brilliant wit,Theodore Hook, is immediately opposite the chancel window. The stone bears the plain inscription “Theodore EdwardHook, died 24th August, 1841, in the fifty-third year of hisage.”

Old entrance to Pryor’s Bank, 1844[188b]

Leaving the church by the other entrance, we are in ChurchLane.  The first house opposite the gate of the churchyardis Pryor’s Bank, to which a separate chapter of our littlevolume is devoted, so that we can pass on immediately to the nexthouse, Thames Bank, the present residence of Mr. Baylis, whosewell-knownp. 188taste will no doubt soon change itspresent aspect.  Granville Sharp’s[188a] House stood opposite.  It waspulled down about twenty-five years ago.  John’s Place(erected 1844) is on the site.

Next to Thames Bank, formerly stood Egmont Villa, theresidence of Theodore Hook, and the house in which he died, nowpulled down, the back of which, is shown in the annexedsketch.  This house, though of the smallest dimensions, wasfitted up with much good taste. Back of Egmont VillaThere was a small boudoir on the side of the drawing-room,which was very rich in articles of virtù, more especiallyin some remarkably fine carvings, attributed to Cellini,Brustolini, and others.  These were left to Hook by hisbrother, the late Dean of Worcester. p. 189As animprovisatore, Hook was unapproachable.  In regard to hisliterary merits, let the following suffice, taken from the lateMr. Barham’s life of Hook, published in 1848:—

“There can be no need,” says theEditor, “at this day to enter upon any lengthened criticismof Theodore Hook’s merits as a novelist; they have beendiscussed over and over again, with little variety of opinion, byevery reviewer of the kingdom.  Indeed, both his faults andhis excellencies lie on the surface, and are obvious and patentto the most superficial reader; his fables, for the most part illknit and insufficient, disappoint as they are unfolded;repetitions and omissions are frequent: in short, a general wantof care and finish is observable throughout, which must beattributed to the hurry in which he was compelled to write,arising from the multiplicity and distracting nature of hisengagements.  His tendency to caricature was innate; buteven this would probably have been in a great measure repressed,had he allowed himself sufficient time for correction: while, onthe contrary, in detached scenes, which sprang up as pictures inhis mind, replete with comic circumstance, in brilliant dialogueand portraiture of character, not to mention those flashes ofsound wisdom with which ever and anon his pages are lighted up,his wit and genius had fair play, revelling and rioting in fun,and achieving on the spur of the moment those lasting triumphswhich cast into the shade the minor and mechanical blemishes towhich we have adverted.”

Hook was a successful dramatist, and an extensivejournalist.  Of his novels, ‘Gilbert Gurney’ maybe considered to be the most remarkable.

Hook’s furniture was sold by George Robins, inSeptember, 1841.  In 1855 the aqueduct was erected by theChelsea Water Works Company, for conveying the water fromKingston-upon-Thames to the metropolis, and it was necessary thatthe contractor, Mr. Brotherhood, should get possession of EgmontVilla, to enable them to erect thep. 190tower onthe Fulham side.  Here the piles and timbers of the oldBishop’s Ferry, used for the conveyance of passengersacross the river from Putney to Fulham, before the old bridge wasbuilt, were discovered.  It was subsequently considereddesirable to pull the villa down; and there now remains no traceof the house in which Hook lived and died, and which stood withina few paces of his grave.  Bowack mentions that RobertLimpany, Esq., “whose estate was so considerable in theparish that he was commonly called the Lord of Fulham,”resided in a neat house in Church Lane.  He died at the ageof ninety-four.  Beyond the Pryor’s Bank on the right,is the Bishop’s Walk, which runs along the side of theThames for some little distance, and from hence a view of theBishop’s Palace is obtained.  This palace has beenfrom a very early period the summer residence of the Bishops ofLondon.  The land consists of about 37 acres, and the wholeis surrounded by a moat, over which are two bridges.

Following the course of the Bishop’s Walk, we come tothe road leading to Craven Cottage, originally built by theMargravine of Anspach, when Countess of Craven, and since alteredand improved by Walsh Porter, who occasionally resided in it tillhis death in 1809.  Craven Cottage was considered theprettiest specimen of cottage architecture then existing. The three principal reception-rooms were equally remarkable fortheir structure, as well as their furniture.  The centre, orprincipal saloon, supported by large palm-trees of considerablesize, exceedingly well executed, with their drooping foliage atthe top, supporting the cornice and architraves of theroom.  The otherp. 191decorations were in correspondingtaste.  The furniture comprised a lion’s skin for ahearth-rug, for a sofa the back of a tiger, the supports of thetables in most instances were four twisted serpents or hydras: infact, the whole of the decorations of the room were of acharacter perfectly unique and uniform in their style.  Thisroom led to a large Gothic dining-room of very considerabledimensions, and on the front of the former apartment was a verylarge oval rustic balcony, opposed to which was a large,half-circular library, that became more celebrated afterwards asthe room in which the highly-gifted and talented author of‘Pelham’ wrote some of his most celebrated works.

Craven Cottage was the residence of the Right Hon. Sir E.Bulwer-Lytton, from whom it passed to Mr. Baylis, now of ThamesBank, who parted with it to Sir Ralph Howard, its presentoccupant, who removed the door shown in the annexed cut, throughwhich the library is seen.

Door of Egyptian Hall at Craven Cottage

Returning to Church Lane, we come out at the bridge,p.192built in 1729, and close to which is Willow Bank, thelate residence of Mr. Delafield and General Conyers.  TheFerry belonged to the See of London, and it was necessary thatthe consent of the Bishops should be had, for the erection of thebridge and consequent destruction of their Ferry; it was,therefore, stipulated for the right of themselves, theirfamilies, and all their dependents, that they should pass overthe bridge toll free, which right exists at the present time; andpassengers are often very much astonished at hearing theexclamation of “Bishop!” shouted out by thestentorian lungs of bricklayers, carpenters, or others, who maybe going to the palace, that being the pass-word for theprivilege of going over.  The architect of the bridge wasthe eminent surgeon, W. Cheselden, who died in 1752, and isburied in the graveyard attached to Chelsea Hospital.  Histomb is close to the railings of the new road, leading fromSloane Street to the Suspension Bridge at Chelsea. Cheselden was for many years, surgeon of Chelsea Hospital.

The Swan Tavern

Standing by the Ferry is the Swan Tavern, ap.193characteristic old house, with a garden attached,looking on to the river, and scarcely altered in any of itsfeatures since Chatelaine published his views of “The mostagreeable Prospects near London,” about 1740.  It is agood specimen of a waterside inn, and appears to have beenerected about the time of William III.

At the foot of the bridge is ‘The Eight Bells’public-house, where the Fulham omnibuses leave for London.

Approach to Putney Bridge

Bridge Street brings us to the point at which we turned off atthe termination of the High Street, and on the right-hand side aswe look towards London is Church Street (formerly Windsor Street,according to Faulkner), leading up to the Ship Tavern, and thenceinto the King’s Road.

The Charity School is in Church Street.  This buildingwas erected in 1811.

Retracing our steps towards London, we come to the George atWalham Green, which turns off to the left.  The churchstands on the right hand side.  Opposite Walham House, nearthe church, is North End Lodge, the residencep. 194of the lateMr. Albert Smith, and where he died on the 23rd May, 1860. As novelist, dramatist, and lecturer, he had achievedconsiderable reputation; and his unexpected death, at the earlyage of forty-four, brought to a sudden close the most popularmonologue entertainment of this, or of any, time.  Mr. Smithwas an amusing writer and a most genial companion, and was everready to assist a professional brother in the hour of need. Against the brick wall, close to the gate of North End Lodge, isa slab with the inscription “From Hyde Park Corner, 3 miles17 yards.”  We are now in North End, where there aremany houses of interest which deserve attention; we willtherefore go out of the direct road and return to London by wayof North End.

p. 195CHAPTER VI.

north end.

North End may be described as aseries of residences on each side the lane, more than a mile inlength, which runs from the church at Walham Green to the mainroad from Kensington to Hammersmith.  There were but fewhouses in it when Faulkner published his map in 1813. Market gardens were on both sides the road, and the gardenerscottagers were very old. Panelled DoorThe panelled door, here represented, was fitted to one ofthem, and evidently was fashioned in the seventeenthcentury.  The celebrated bookseller, Jacob Tonson, lived forsome time at North End.  At York Cottage, which is on theright hand side of the road, about a quarter of a mile from thechurch, resided for many years Mr. J. B. Pyne, the landscapepainter.  At a short distance beyond, the road from OldBrompton crosses into Fulham Fields.  Here, at one corner,is a house (Hermitage Lodge) which was originally constructed asstables to the residence ofp. 196Foote, thedramatist and comedian,[196] which still standson the opposite side of the road leading to Brompton, and wherehe lived for many years, expending large sums upon itsimprovement.  It is now called “The Hermitage,”and is completely surrounded by a large garden enclosed by highwalls.

Hermitage Lodge (1844) and The Hermitage

Exactly opposite to this house, in the angle of the road,stands an old house in a moderate-sized garden (CambridgeLodge).  Francis Bartolozzi, the celebrated engraver, whoarrived in England in 1764, came to reside here in 1777.  Hewas born at Florence in 1730, and died at Lisbon in 1813. His son, Gaetano Bartolozzi, father to the late Madame Vestris,was born in 1757, and died August 25th, 1813.  Passing upthe road, beside market gardens, is the old garden wall ofNormand House, with some curious brick gates (now closed in): thehouse is very old; thep. 197date, 1661,is in the centre arch, over the principal gateway, and it is saidto have been used as a hospital for persons recovering from theGreat Plague in 1665. Bartolozzi’s HouseSir E. Bulwer Lytton has resided here.  In 1813“it was appropriated for the reception of insaneladies” (Faulkner), and it is now a lunatic asylum forladies, with the name of “Talfourd” on a brassplate.  A little further on the road, out of which we haveturned, is a cottage to the right named Wentworth Cottage. Here Mr. and Mrs. S. C. Hall once resided.  The willow infront of the cottage was planted by them from a slip of that overthe grave of Napoleon at St. Helena.  The land opposite thiscottage is now to be let on building lease.  This district,now known as “Fulham Fields,” was formerly called“No Man’s Land,” and according to Faulkner, thelocal historian, contained, in 1813, “about sixhouses.”  One of these was “an ancient house,once the residence of the family of Plumbe,” which waspulled down about twenty-three years ago, and replaced by acluster of dwellings for the labourers in the surrounding marketgardens, which extend from Walham Green nearly to the Thames in anorth-west direction; “the North End Road,” as it iscalled, forming the eastern boundary of “FulhamFields.”  To establishp. 198theconnection of Sylvester’s lines, quoted in the late Mr.Crofton Croker’s Paper on the “Golden Lion,”with this locality, the antiquary who pointed it out observedthat—

“Our poet had an uncle named William Plumbe,who resided at North End, Fulham, having married the widow ofJohn Gresham, the second son of Sir John Gresham, who was LordMayor of London in 1547, and which lady was the only daughter andheir of Edward Dormer of Fulham.  Here it was, whilevisiting his uncle, that Sylvester formed the attachment which isthe subject of his poem (see the folio edition of his works,1621).  Uncle Plumbe had been a widower; and from monumentswhich exist, or existed, in the parish church of Fulham, appearsto have departed this life on the 9th February, 1593–4,aged sixty.  In the previous May, his widow had lost her sonEdmund (or Edward) Gresham, at the age of sixteen; and seriouslytouched by the rapid proofs of mortality within her house, fromwhich the hand of death had within twelve months removed both ahusband and a child, made preparations for her own demise byrecording her intention to repose beside their remains: and toher husband’s memory she raised, in Fulham Church, amonument ‘of alabaster, inlaid and ornamented withvarious-coloured marble,’ leaving a space after her namefor the insertion of the date of her death and age, which appearnever to have been supplied.”

The arms of “Dormer, impaled with Gresham,” we aretold remain, “those of Plumbe are gone.” Sylvester’s “Triumph of Faith” is consecrated“to the grateful memory of the first kind fosterer of ourtender Muses, by my never sufficiently honoured dear uncle, W.Plumb, Esq.”  It is not our intention to linger overthe recollections connected with the age of Elizabeth in FulhamFields or at North End, although there can be no doubt that alittle research might bring some curious local particulars tolight connected with the history of the literature, the drama,and the fine arts of that period,

p.199The gardens here provide the London markets with alarge supply of vegetables.  A very primitive form ofdraw-well was common here, consisting of a pole, balancedhorizontally on an upright, the bucket being affixed to a rope atone end. Draw-wellThe pole is pulled downward for the bucket to descend thewell, and when filled, is raised by the weight of wood attachedto the opposite end of the pole.  This mode of raising wateris still in use in the East, and Wilkinson, in his ‘Mannersand Customs of the Ancient Egyptians,’ Series I. vol. ii.p. 4, has engraved representations of this machine, frompaintings on the walls of Thebes, of the time of thePharaohs. Cottage in Fulham FieldsIn “Fulham Fields” are still standing many oldcottages, inhabited by market-gardeners.  A sketch, taken in1844, of one of the best examples then existing, is here given asa specimen.

A little beyond “Wentworth Cottage,” the roadbranches off, the turning to the right going to Hammersmith, andthat to the left leading to Fulham.  Hammersmith was a partof Fulham until 1834, when it was formed into a separate parishby Act of Parliament.

p.200Elm HouseReturning to the lane at North End, immediately beyondBartolozzi’s house, is an old wall, apparently of the timeof Charles II., enclosing a tall peculiar-looking house, nowcalled Elm House, once the residence of Cheeseman the engraver,of whom little is known, except that he was a pupil ofBartolozzi, and lived in Newman Street about thirty yearsago.  He is said to have been very fond of music, and havinga small independence and less ambition, he was content to engravebut little, and with his violoncello and musical friends, passeda very happy life.

A little further on the opposite side of the road stoodWalnut-Tree Cottage (pulled down in 1846), once the residence ofEdmund Kean, and also of Copley the artist, which took its namefrom the tree in the fore-court. Walnut-Tree CottageWe then come to the North End Sunday and Day Schools, erectedin 1857.  The road here curves round by the wall ofKensington Hall, a large mansion on the right, built by Slater,the well-knownp. 201butcher of Kensington, and it hasbeen called in consequence Slater’s Mansion.  It is atpresent a school, kept by Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, but it is to belet or sold.

A little further to the left is Deadman’s Lane. Here, in the midst of garden grounds, stands a venerable andisolated fabric, which would appear to have been built in thereign of James I.  This lane leads to Hammersmith, but amore agreeable way has been made opposite Edith Villas, calledEdith Road.  The land is to be let on building lease; andhere once stood the house of Cipriani, the painter. Cipriani’s HouseCipriani was born at Florence, in 1727, and died in London in1785.  He came to England in 1755; and he was one of themembers of the Royal Academy at its foundation in 1769, when hewas employed to make the design for the diploma given toAcademicians and Associates on their admission, which wasengraved by Bartolozzi.  The character and works of thisartist are thus described by Fuseli: “The fertility of hisinvention, the graces of his composition, and the seductiveelegance of his forms, were only surpassed by the probity of hischaracter, the simplicity of his manners, and the benevolence ofhis heart.”  A few plates were engraved by himselfafter his own designs.

p.202Another curve of the road brings us to the site of Dr.Crotch’s house, where a row of houses, called GroveCottages, have been built. Dr. Crotch’s HouseDr. Crotch was, in 1797, at the early age of twenty-two,appointed Professor of Music in the University of Oxford, wherehe received the degree of Doctor of Music.  In 1822 he wasappointed Principal of the Royal Academy of Music.  Heperformed for the last time in public in 1834 in WestminsterAbbey, during the royal festival, and died 20th December, 1847,while sitting at dinner.  Dr. Crotch has composed numerouspieces for the organ and pianoforte, and published, in 1812,‘Elements of Musical Composition and Thorough Bass,’and subsequently specimens of various styles of music of allages.  W. Wynne Ryland, the engraver, lived in this housebefore Dr. Crotch inhabited it.

Opposite where Dr. Crotch’s house formerly stood, facinga turning which is called on one side Lawn Terrace, on the otherAshton Terrace, is a large brick mansion inhabited by Richardsonthe novelist before his removal to Parson’s Green.  Itis of the period of William III., the appearance of which may berecognized from the annexed sketch.  In the garden was asummer-house, in which the novelist wrote before the family wereup, and he afterwards, at thep. 203breakfasttable, communicated the progress of his story. House of RichardsonHow little the exterior has been altered in the last fiftyyears, a comparison of this sketch, made in 1844, with the printprefixed to the 4th volume of Richardson’s‘Correspondence,’ will show at a glance.  SirRichard Phillips’s print was published by him May 26,1804.  Then, as now, this mansion was divided into twohouses, and the half nearest to the eye was that occupied by thenovelist, the other half was the residence of a Mr. Vanderplank,a name which frequently occurs in ‘Richardson’sCorrespondence.’  Richardson’s house has beensubsequently inhabited by the late Sir William and Lady Boothby,the latter, better known to the public as that charming actressMrs. Nisbett.  A few extracts from ‘Richardson’sCorrespondence’ may here prove interesting.

One of the most romantic incidents in the business-like andhospitable life of Richardson, was his correspondence with, andintroduction to Lady Bradshaigh, the wife of a LancashireBaronet, whom he tried to prevail upon to visit him at NorthEnd.  After the appearance of the fourth volume of ClarissaHarlowe, a lady, who signed herself Belfour, wrote to Richardson,stating a report that prevailed, that the history of Clarissa wasto terminate in ap. 204most tragical manner, and requestingthat her entreaties may avert so dreadful a catastrophe.

This correspondence with Mrs. Belfour commenced in October,1748; and she thus concludes her letter to the novelist, herladyship taking care to mystify her identity by giving heraddress, Post-office, Exeter, although resident at Haigh inLancashire.  “If you disappoint me,” she writes,“attend to my curse.”

“May the hatred of all the young, beautiful,and virtuous for ever be your portion, and may your eyes neverbehold anything but age and deformity!  May you meet withapplause only from envious old maids, surly bachelors, andtyrannical parents; may you be doomed to the company of such! andafter death may their ugly souls haunt you!

“Now make Lovelace and Clarissa unhappy if you dare!

“Perhaps you may think all this proceeds from a giddygirl of sixteen; but know I am past my romantic time of life,though young enough to wish two lovers happy in a marriedstate.  As I myself am in that class, it makes me still moreanxious for the lovely pair.  I have a common understanding,and middling judgment, for one of my sex, which I tell you forfear you should not find it out.”

The correspondence thus commenced goes on, until the vanity ofRichardson induces him to describe to his unknown correspondenthis private circumstances: and to a hint given in the Januaryfollowing by Lady Bradshaigh, of her intention to visit Londonbefore she is a year older, when she “shall long tosee” Mr. Richardson, and “perhaps may contrivethat, though unknown to him,” he replies,—

“But do not, my dear correspondent (stilllet me call you so) say, that you will see me,unknown tomyself, when you come to town.  Permit me to hope, thatyou will not be personally a stranger to me then.”

p.205This is followed by an acknowledgment from MadameBelfour, that she is not his “Devonshire lady,”having but very little knowledge of the place, though she has afriend there; observing archly, “Lancashire, if youplease;” adding an invitation, if he is inclined to take ajourney of two hundred miles, with the promise of “a mostfriendly reception from two persons, who have great reason toesteem” him “a very valuable acquaintance.”

Richardson responded to this invitation by another—

“But I will readily come into any proposalyou shall make, to answer the purpose of your question; and ifyou will be so cruel as to keep yourself still incognito, willacquiesce.  I wish you would accept of our invitation onyour coming to town. But three little miles from HydePark Corner.  I keep no vehicle.”

(This was before the age of omnibuses.)

—“but one should be at yours, and atyour dear man’s command, as long as you should both honourus with your presence.  You shall be only the sister, thecousin, the niece—the what you please of my incognito, andI will never address you as other than what you choose to passfor.  If you knew, Madam, you would not question that I amin earnest on this occasion; the less question it, as that at mylittle habitation near Hammersmith, I have common conveniences,though not splendid ones, to make my offer good.”

Richardson, in the letter from which this passage has beenextracted, is again led away by his vanity into a description ofhis person, and very plainly hints at a meeting in the Park,through which he goes “once or twice a week to” his“little retirement.”  He describes himselfas

“Short, rather plump than emaciated, aboutfive foot five inches; fair wig; lightish cloth coat, all blackbesides; one hand generally in his bosom, the other a cane in it,which he leans upon under thep. 206skirts ofhis coat usually, that it may imperceptibly serve him as asupport, when attacked by sudden tremors or startings anddizziness.” . . . “Of a light-brown complexion; teethnot yet failing him; smoothish faced and ruddy cheeked; at sometimes looking to be about sixty-five, at other times muchyounger; a regular even pace, stealing away ground, rather thanseeming to get rid of it; a grey eye, too often overclouded bymistiness from the head; by chance lively—very lively itwill be if he have hope of seeing a lady whom he loves andhonours; his eye always on the ladies”—and so on.

In return to this description, Lady Bradshaigh on the 16thDecember, 1749, half promises a meeting in an appointed place,for she tells the elderly gentleman with “a grey eye, toooften overclouded by mistiness from the head,” but“by chance lively,” “that she will attend thePark every fine warm day, between the hours of one and two. I do not,” adds this perfect specimen of a literarycoquette,

“Say this to put you in the least out ofyour way, or make you stay a moment longer than your businessrequires; for a walk in the Park is an excuse she uses for herhealth; and as she designs staying some months in town, if shemisses you one day she may have luck another.”

And Lady Bradshaigh proceeds to present, as if in ridicule ofRichardson’s portrait as drawn by himself, her own.

“In surprise or eagerness she is apt tothink aloud; and since you have a mind to seeher, who hasseen the King, I give you the advantage of knowing she is middleaged, middle sized, a degree above plump, brown as an oakwainscot, a good deal of country red in her cheeks: altogether aplain woman, but nothing remarkably forbidding.”

Any one might think that a meeting would immediately havefollowed these communications, and that the novel-writer and thenovel-reader would have presentedp. 207themselvesto each other’s gaze for admiration, at the time and placeappointed, and thus the affair which their letters have left uponrecord might have been satisfactorily wound up in onevolume.  But this did not accord with the sentimentaltypographical taste of the times, which required the dilution ofan idea into seven or eight volumes to make it palatable. For we are told that a young Cantab, who, when asked if he hadread Clarissa, replied, “D---n it, I would not read itthrough to save my life,” was set down as an incurabledunce.  And that a lady reading to her maid, whilst shecurled her hair, the seventh volume of Clarissa, the poor girllet fall such a shower of tears that they wetted hermistress’s head so much, she had to send her out of theroom to compose herself.  Upon the maid being asked thecause of her grief, she said, “Oh, madam, to see suchgoodness and innocence in such distress,” and her ladyrewarded her with a crown for the answer.

January the 9th (1749–50) has arrived—thetantalizing Lady Bradshaigh, the unknown Mrs. Belfour has been inLondon six weeks, and the novelist begins “not to know whatto think” of his fair correspondent’s wish to seehim.  “May be so,” he writes,

“But with such a desire to be in town threeweeks; on the 16th December to be in sight of my dwelling, andthree weeks more to elapse, yet I neither to see or hear of thelady; it cannot be that she has so strong a desire.”

Let any one imagine the ridiculousness of the situation of“dear, good, excellent Mr. Richardson” at thistime.  He had, he confesses,

“Such a desire to see one who had seen theKing, that” (he speakingp. 208of himself,says) “though prevented by indisposition from going to mylittle retirement on the Saturday, that I had the pleasure ofyour letter, I went into the Park on Sunday (it being a very fineday) in hopes of seeing such a lady as you describe, contentingmyself with dining as I walked, on a sea biscuit which I had putin my pocket, my family at home, all the time, knowing not whatwas become of me.—A Quixotte!

“Last Saturday, being a fine warm day, in my way toNorth End, I walked backwards and forwards in the Mall, till pastyour friend’s time of being there (she preparing, possibly,for the Court, being Twelfth Night!) and I again wasdisappointed.”

On the 28th January, nineteen days after this was written,Lady Bradshaigh, in a letter full of satirical banter, which,however, it may be questionable if Richardson did not receive asreplete with the highest compliments to his genius, says,

“Indeed, Sir, I resolved, if ever I came totown, to find out your haunts, if possible, and I have not‘said anything that is not,’ nor am at all naughty inthis respect, for I give you my word, endeavours have not beenwanting.  You never go to public places.  I knew notwhere to look for you (without making myself known) except in thePark, which place I have frequented most warm days.  Once Ifancied I met you; I gave a sort of a fluttering start, andsurprised my company; but presently recollected you would notdeceive me by appearing in a grey, instead of a whitish coat;besides the cane was wanting, otherwise I might have supposed youin mourning.”

Could anything exceed this touch about “a grey, insteadof a whitish coat,” except the finishing one of the“mole upon your left cheek?”

“To be sure on the Saturday you mention, Iwas dressing for court, as you supposed, and have never been inthe Park upon a Sunday; but you cannot be sure that I have notseen you.  How came I to know that you have a mole upon yourleft cheek?  But not to make myself appear more knowing thanI am, I’ll tell you, Sir, that I have only seen you ineffigy, in company with your Clarissa at Mr. Highmore’s,where I design making you another visit shortly.”

p.209All this and much more is followed by a mosttantalizing and puzzling P.S. to poor Richardson.  His fair,or rather “brown as an oak-wainscot, with a gooddeal-of-country-red in her cheeks” correspondent, requestshim “to direct only to C. L., and enclose it to Miss J., tobe left at Mrs. G.’s” etc. etc., previously observingthat, “whenever there happens to be a fine Saturday I shalllook for you in the Park, that being the day on which I supposeyou are called that way.”

Roused into desperation, Richardson on the 2nd February writesto Mrs. Belfour as follows:—

“What pains does my unkind correspondenttake to conceal herself!  Loveless thought himself atliberty to change names without Act of Parliament.  I wish,madam, that Lovelace—‘A sad dog,’ said acertain lady once, ‘why was he made so wicked, yet soagreeable?’

“Disappointed and chagrined as I was on Friday nightwith the return of my letter, directed to Miss J---, rejected andrefused to be taken in at Mrs. G---’s, and with myservant’s bringing me word that the little book I sent onThursday night, with a note in it, was also rejected; and theporter (whom I have never since seen or heard of, nor of thebook) dismissed with an assurance that he must be wrong; myservant being sent from one Mrs. G--- to another Mrs. G--- atMillbank; yet I resolved to try my fortune on Saturday in thePark in my way to North End.  The day indeed, thought I, isnot promising; but where so great an earnestness is professed,and the lady possibly by this time made acquainted with thedisappointment she has given me, who knows but she will becarried in a chair to the Park, to make me amends, and therereveal herself?  Three different chairs at different viewssaw I.  My hope, therefore, not so very much out of the way;but in none of them the lady I wished to see.  Up the Mallwalked I, down the Mall, and up again, in my way to NorthEnd.  O this dear Will-o’-wisp, thought I! whennearest, furthest off!  Why should I, at this time oflife?  No bad story, the consecrated rose, say what shewill: and all the spiteful things I could think of I muttered tomyself.  And how, Madam, can I banish them from my memory,p.210when I see you so very careful to conceal yourself;when I see you so very apprehensive of my curiosity, and so verylittle confiding in my generosity?  O Madam! you know menot! you will not know me!

“Yesterday, at North End, your billet, apologizing forthe disappointment was given me.  Lud! lud! what a giddyappearance! thought I.  O that I had half the life, thespirit! of anything worth remembering I could makememorandums.

“Shall I say all I thought?  I will not.  Butif these at last reach your hands, take them as written, as theywere, by Friday night, and believe me to be,

“Madam,
“Your admirer and humble Servant,
S. Richardson.”

Sir Walter Scott says, that “the power ofRichardson’s painting of his deeper scenes of tragedy hasnever been, and probably never will be, excelled;” and inMrs. Inchbald’s ‘Life of Richardson,’ we read,that “as a writer he possessed original genius, and anunlimited command over the tender passions.”  Hecarried on a foreign literary correspondence, and was on terms ofintimacy with many eminent and literary persons of his time,particularly Dr. Young, Dr. Johnson, Aaron Hill, and ArthurOnslow, Esq., Speaker of the House of Commons.

A short distance further on, we enter the Hammersmith Road,opposite a tavern called “The Bell and Anchor,” whichstands beside the turnpike, and passing about twenty shops on theleft towards Hammersmith, we notice in the fore-court of a housecalled “The Cedars,” two noble cedar trees of immensegirth, one of which is represented in the accompanying cut. This was formerly the residence of Sir James Branscomb, who,according to Faulkner, “in his early days had been aservant to the Earl of Gainsborough,p. 211andafterwards, for upwards of forty years, carried on a lotteryoffice in Holborn.  He was a common-councilman of the Wardof Farringdon Without, and received the honour of knighthoodduring his shrievalty.”  The house has been aladies’ boarding-school for many years.  From theKensington Road we can return direct to London, having in thischapter departed from our even course on the Fulham Road for thepurpose of visiting the North End district.

Tree in the fore-court of “The Cedars”

p. 212CHAPTER VII.

the pryor’sbank,fulham.

Nestling in trees beneath the old tower of Fulham Church,which has been judiciously restored by Mr. George Godwin, theremay be seen from Putney Bridge a remarkable group of houses, themost conspicuous of which will be conjectured from a passingglance to belong to the Gothic tribe.  This house, which hasbeen a pet kind of place of the Strawberry Hill class, is calledthe Pryor’s Bank, and its history can be told in much lessthan one hundredth part of the space that a mere catalogue of theobjects of interest which it has contained would occupy.  Infact, the whole edifice, from the kitchen to the bedrooms, was afew years since a museum, arranged with a view to pictorialeffect; and if it had been called “The Museum of BritishAntiquities” it would have been found worthy of thename.

In a print, published about forty years since, by J. Edington,64 Gracechurch Street, of Fulham Church, as seen from the river,the ancient aspect of the modern Pryor’s Bank ispreserved. Fulham ChurchThe situation of this humblep. 213residencehaving attracted the fancy of Mr. Walsh Porter, he purchased it,raised the building by an additional story, replaced its latticedcasements by windows of coloured glass, and fitted the interiorwith grotesque embellishments and theatrical decorations. The entrance hall was called the robber’s cave, for it wasconstructed of material made to look like large projecting rocks,with a winding staircase, and mysterious in-and-outpassages. Vine CottageOne of the bed-rooms was called, not inaptly, thelion’s den.  The dining-room represented, on a smallscale, the ruins of Tintern Abbey; and here Mr. Porter hadfrequently the honour of receiving and entertaining George IV.,when Prince of Wales.  It was then called Vine Cottage,[213] and having been disposedp. 214ofby Mr. Porter, became, in 1813, the residence of Lady Hawarden;and, subsequently, of William Holmes, Esq., M.P., who sold it toMr. Baylis and Mr. Lechmere Whitmore about 1834.

By them a luxurious vine which covered the exterior was cutdown, and the cottage, named after it, replaced by a modernantique house.  Mr. Baylis being a zealous antiquary, hisgood taste induced him to respect neglected things, whenremarkable as works of art, and inspired him and his friend Mr.Whitmore with the wish to collect and preserve some of the manyfine specimens of ancient manufacture that had found their wayinto this country from the Continent, as well as to rescue fromdestruction relics of Old England.  In the monuments andcarvings which had been removed from dilapidated churches, and inthe furniture which had been turned out of the noble mansions ofEngland—the “Halls” and “oldPlaces”—Mr. Baylis saw the tangible records of thehistory of his country; and, desirous of upholding suchmemorials, he gleaned a rich harvest from the lumber ofbrokers’ shops, and saved from oblivion articlesillustrative of various tastes and periods, that were daily inthe course of macadamisation or of being consumed forfirewood.

The materials thus acquired were freely used by him in theconstruction of a new building upon the site of Vine Cottage, andadapted with considerable skill; but when neither the vine northe cottage were in existence, it appeared to Mr. Baylisridiculous to allow a misnomer to attach itself to thespot.  After due deliberation, therefore, respecting thesituation upon a delightful bank of gravel,p. 215and theassociation which an assemblage of ecclesiastic carvings andobjects connected with “monkish memories,” therecollected, were likely to produce upon the mind, the new housewas styled the “Pryor’s Bank.”

As Horace Walpole’s villa was celebrated by the Earl ofBath, so the charms of the Pryor’s Bank have been sung in“the last new ballad on the Fulham regatta”—ajeu d’esprit circulated at an entertainment given bythe hospitable owners in 1843:—

“Strawberry Hill has pass’daway,
Every house must have its day;
So in antiquarian rank
Up sprung here the Pryor’s Bank,
Full of glorious tapestry,—
Full as well as house can be:
And of carvings old and quaint,
Relics of some mitr’d saint,
’Tis—I hate to be perfidious—
’Tis a house most sacrilegious.

“Glorious, glowing painted glass,
What its beauty can surpass?
Shrines bedeck’d with gems we see,
Overhung by canopy
Of embroider’d curtains rare—
Wondrous works of time and care!
Up stairs, down stairs, in the hall,
There is something great or small
To attract the curious eye
Into it to rudely pry.

“Here some niche or cabinet
Full of rarities is set;
Here some picture—‘precious bit’—
There’s no time to dwell on it;
Bronzes, china—all present
Each their own sweet blandishment.
p.216But what makes our pleasure here,
Is our welcome and our cheer;
So I’ll not say one bit more,—
Long live Baylis and Whitmore!”

I would endeavour to convey some idea of the Pryor’sBank and its now dispersed treasures as they were in 1840, inwhich year we will suppose the reader to accompany us through thehouse and grounds; but before entering the house, I would callattention to a quiet walk along the garden-terrace, laved to itsverdant slope by the brimming Thames. Terrace at Pryor’s BankSuppose, then, we leave those beautiful climbingplants—they are Chilian creepers that so profusely wantonon the sunny wall—and turning sharply round an angle of theriver front, cut at once, by the most direct walk, the partieswho in luxurious idleness have assembled about the gardenfountain; and, lest such folk should attempt to interrupt us inour sober purpose, let us not stop to see or admire anything,until we reach the bay-window summer-house at the end of theterrace.  “How magnificent are thosechestnut-trees!” I hear you exclaim; “and this oldbay-window!”

p.217Ay, this summer-house which shelters us, and thosenoble balusters which protect the northern termination of theterrace, how many thoughts do they conjure up in the mind! Fountain at Pryor’s BankThese balusters belonged to the main staircase of WinchesterHouse.  Do you remember Winchester House in Broad Street, inthe good city of London, the residence of “the loyalPaulets?”  Perhaps not.  There is, however, aprint of its last appearance in the ‘Gentleman’sMagazine’ for April, 1839, and by which you will at onceidentify this summer-house as the bay-window of the principalapartment.  Indeed the editor tells you that “thegreater part of the remaining ornamental wood-work has beenpurchased by Thomas Baylis, Esq., F.S.A., who is fitting up withit the kitchen and some of the new rooms of his house,Pryor’s Bank, Fulham.”

It is stated in the same magazine, that in 1828 the motto ofthe Paulets,Aymes Loyaulte, was to beseen in the windows of the principal apartment on the firstfloor, in yellow letters, disposed in diagonal stripes; whichmotto, it is added, “was probably put there by the loyalMarquis of Winchester, in the time of Charles I., by whom thep.218same sentence was inscribed in every window of hisresidence at Basing House, in Hants, which he so gallantlydefended against the Parliamentarians.”[218]

Now, is it not more probable that the recollection of thismotto in the windows of his paternal mansion, conveyed throughthe medium of coloured glass, indelibly stamped by sunshine (ordaguerreotyped, as we might term it) upon the youthful mind ofthe gallant marquis those feelings of devoted loyalty whichinfluenced his after conduct, and led him to inscribe with thepoint of his diamond ring the same motto upon the windows ofBasing House? Turn BuckleBe this as it may, it is gratifying to know that many of thepanes of glass which bore that glorious yellow letter motto inWinchester House, at the period when it was doomed to be takendown, are preserved, having been with good taste presented to thepresent Marquis of Winchester; and two or three which wereoverlooked have come into the possession of Lord AdolphusFitzclarence.  But much of the diamond-shaped glass in thisbay-window, as it stood upon the terrace of the Pryor’sBank, was ancient, and very curious.  You could not fail toremark the quaint window-latch, termed “a TurnBuckle.”

p.219Had we time to linger here, how amusing it might be toattempt to decipher the monograms, and names, and versesinscribed upon the various lozenge-shaped panes of glass, whichpractically exemplified the phrase of “diamond cutdiamond.”

The fragments of the old Royal Exchange, with a Burmesecross-legged idol perched thereon—the urn to the memory of“Poor Banquo;” thegreen-house, with its billiard-table, and even an alcove, themost charming spot in “the wide world” to talksentiment in, must not detain us from returning to another angleof the river front, afterAlcove: and Angle of the River Frontglancing at which, we enter the outer hall or passage,wainscoted with oak and lined above with arras, separated fromthe inner hall by an oak screen, which wasp. 220usuallyguarded upon gala nights by most respectable“Beef-eaters,” who required the production ofinvitationInner Hall with oak screencards from all visitors.  They permit us to pass withoutquestion; and that is a very proper example for you to follow,and a good reason why you should not question me tooclosely:—

      “Doyou think that I
Came here to be the Pryor’s Bank directory?”

You must use your own eyes, and judge for yourself.  Iwill tell you, however, all that I know as briefly as possible,and point out whatever occurs to me in our scamper, for a scamperit can only be termed: just such a kind of run as a person makesthrough London who has come up by railroad to see all its wondersin a week.  But I cannot allow you to examine so closelythat curiouslyp. 221carved oak chimney-piece in theinner hall, although I admit that it may be as early as HenryVIII.’s time, and those interesting old portraits. Where shall we begin?  You wish to inspect everything. Suppose, then, we commence with the kitchen, and steam itup-stairs to the dormitories, going at the rate of ahigh-pressure engine.

You are already aware that the kitchen was panelled with oakfrom the drawing-room of Winchester House, and now you see thewhole style of fitting-up accords with that of “bygonedays.”  Look, for instance, towards the kitchenwindow, and you will find that the various cupboards, presses anddressers—even the cooking utensils—correspond; but,although modern improvements have not been lost sight of, antiqueforms have been retained.  Let one example suffice, that ofan ancient gridiron, of beautiful and elaborate workmanship.

Kitchen Window: and Ancient Gridiron

The history of the plates and dishes displayed in thisp.222kitchen would afford an opportunity for a dissertationon the rise and progress of the fine arts in this country, asthey present most curious and important specimens of earlydrawing, painting, and poetry.  The old English plate was asquare piece of wood, which indeed is not quite obsolete at thepresent hour.  The improvement upon this primitive plate wasa circular platter, with a raised edge; but there were also thin,circular, flat plates of beech-wood in use for the dessert orconfection, and they were gilt and painted upon one side, andinscribed with pious, or instructive, or amorous mottoes, suitedto the taste of the society in which they were produced. Such circular plates are now well known to antiquaries under thename of “roundels,” and were at one time generallysupposed by them to have been used as cards for fortune-telling,or playing with at questions and answers.  More soberresearch into their origin and use shows that they were paintedand decorated with conventional patterns by nuns, who left blankspaces for the mottoes, to be supplied by the more learned monks;and a set of these roundels generally consisted of twelve. As specimens of the style of these mottoes about the time ofHenry VII. or VIII. the following may be taken:—

“Wheresoever thou traveleste,
   Este, Weste, Northe, or Southe,
Learne never to looke
   A geven horsse in the mouthe.”

“In friends ther ys flattery,
   In men lyttell trust,
Thoughe fayre they proffer
   They be offten unjuste.”

There are many sets of verses for roundels extant inp.223manuscript, and a few have been printed; indeed, itappears likely that to the love for this species of compositionwe owe Tusser’s “Five Hundred Points of GoodHusbandry,” and most of his other admonitory verses.

After the Reformation, coloured prints superseded the paintedand manuscript “poesies” of the nuns and monks, andthe elder De Passe, and other artists of the period of James I.and Charles I., produced a variety of oval and circularengravings, which were pasted upon roundels and varnishedover.  The subjects generally selected were those whichnaturally arranged themselves into a set of twelve, as themonths.  By the Puritans the beechen roundels thus decoratedwere regarded with especial dislike, and they returned to the useof the unadorned trencher and “godly platter.” When the “Merry Monarch” was restored he brought overwith him from Holland plates and dishes manufactured at Delft,where the porcelain known as Faenza, Faience, Majolica, andFynlina ware, made during the fifteenth century in the North ofItaly, and upon the embellishments of which, according toLamartinière, the pencils of Raffaelle, Giulio Romano, andthe Caracci, were employed, had been successfully, althoughcoarsely imitated.  And it must be confessed that many ofthe old Dutch plates, dishes, and bowls, upon the kitchen-shelvesof the Pryor’s Bank, deserved to be admired for boldness ofdesign, effective combinations of colour, and the manualdexterity displayed in the execution of the patterns.  Thesuperior delicacy of the porcelain of China, which about thistime began to be imported freely into England from the Eastcaused it top. 224be preferred to the “Dutchware,” and the consequence of international commerce was,that the Chinese imitated European devices and patterns upontheir porcelain, probably with the view of rendering the articlemore acceptable in the Dutch and English markets.  But whilethe Chinese were imitating us, we were copying their style of artin the potteries of Staffordshire, with the commercialmanufacturing advantage given by the power of transferring aprint to the clay over the production of the same effect by meansof the pencil, an idea no doubt suggested by our roundels ofCharles I.’s time, and which process became of the samerelative importance as printing to manuscript.  This was theorigin of our common blue-and-white plate, or what is known as“the willow pattern,” where

“Walking through their groves oftrees,
   Blue bridges and blue rivers,
Little think those three Chinese
   They’ll soon be smash’d toshivers.”

The popularity of this porcelain pattern must not be ascribedto superior beauty or cheapness, for to the eye of taste surely apure plain white plate is infinitely superior to an unfeelingcopy of a Chinese pagoda, bridge, and willow-tree “in blueprint.”  The fact is that the bugbear of a vulgarmind—“fashion”—long rendered itimperative upon every good housewife and substantial householderto keep up a certain dinner-set of earthenware, consisting of twosoup-tureens and a relative proportion of dishes andvegetable-dishes, with covers, soup-plates, dinner-plates, anddessert-plates, which were all to correspond; and should anyaccidental breakage of crockery take place, it was amanufacturing trick to make it a matter ofp.225extra-proportionate expense and difficulty readily toreplace the same unless it happened to be of “the bluewillow pattern.”  The practice, however, of using forthe dessert-service plates of Worcester china painted by hand,and the execution of many of which as works of art call for ouradmiration as much as any enamel, created a taste for formingwhat are called harlequin sets, among which, if a few plateshappen to be

“Smash’d to shivers,”

the value of the whole set is only proportionatelydepreciated, and what has been broken may perhaps beadvantageously replaced.

Earl of Essex

If you like, we will return to the inner hall, where is ap.226portrait of the celebrated Earl of Essex, an undoubtedoriginal picture, dated 1598, three years previous to his beingbeheaded (Zucchero), and from it at once enter the library, orbreakfast-room.  Here there is a superbly carved Elizabethanchimney-piece.

Elizabethan chimney-piece

What are you about?  You should not have touched sothoughtlessly that “brass inkstand,” as you callit.  It is actually a pix, or holy box,[227] which once contained the host, and wasconsidered “so sacred, that upon the march of armies it wasespecially prohibited from theft.”  We are told thatHenry V. delayed his army for a whole day to discover the thiefwho had stolen one.  You may admire the pictures as much asyou please; they are odd andp.227hard-looking portraits to my eye; but they arehistorically curious, and clever, too, for their age. Pix, or Holy BoxCould you only patiently listen to a discussion upon thecharacters of the originals of the portraits that have hung uponthese walls, or the volumes that have filled these shelves; youmight gain a deeper insight into the workings of the human heartthan, perhaps, you would care to be instructed by.  Therewere in the next room—the dining-room—into which wemay proceed when you please, for only by a sliding door betweenthe library and dining-room are they separated—suchpictures! Sliding door into dining-roomAn unquestionable ‘Henry VIII.,’ by Holbein; a‘Queen Mary,’ by Lucas de Heere, from the collectionof the late Mr. Dent; and a glorious ‘Elizabeth,’that had belonged to Nathaniel Rich of Eltham, who we know fromthe particulars of sale that were in the Augmentation Office, wasthe purchaser of Eltham Palace, when disposedp. 228of by theParliament after the death of Charles I.; and we also know fromStrype’sAnnals of the Reformation, that Elizabethvisited Eltham and passed some days there in 1559, and that shemade her favourite Sir Christopher Hatton keeper of the royalpalace there.

You should not disturb those books; you will look in vain forthe publication of George III.’s ‘Illustration ofShakspeare,’ and corrected in the autograph of the king fora second edition.  How remarkable are the opinionsentertained by His Majesty respecting Doctors Johnson andFranklin, and how curious are some of the notes!  This bookis the true history of his reign, and would be worth to us fiftyblack-letter Caxtons.  Mr. Thorpe of Piccadilly can tell youall about it. Monastic chair and damask curtainsOh, never mind that manuscript in its old French binding, andthose exquisitely-wrought silver clasps, and dear old HoraceWalpole’s books.  We must enter the dining-room. Here sit down in this monastic chair, and look around you forfive minutes.  This chair Mr. Baylis picked up in Lincoln;and the curtains beside it, they came from Strawberry Hill, andare of genuine Spitalfields damask.  There is nop.229such damask to be had now.  Eighty years ago werethese curtains manufactured, and yet they are in most excellentcondition.  The greater portion of the Gothic oak panellingaround us originally formed the back of the stalls in thebeautiful chapel of Magdalen College, Oxford.  During thelate repairs this panelling was removed and sold.  Much ofit was purchased by the Marquess of Salisbury for Hatfield House,and the remainder Mr. Baylis bought.  More of the oakpanelling in the room, especially the elaborately-wroughtspecimens and the rich tracery work, have been obtained fromCanterbury Cathedral, York Minster, St. Mary’s Coventry,and other churches.

Ornate chimney-piece

The chimney-piece is a rich composition of ancientp.230carving; the canopy came from St. Michael’sChurch, Coventry, and in the niches are some fine figures of thekings and queens of England. Knight’s armourThe fire-back is an interesting relic, as it is the originalone placed in the great dining-hall of Burghley House, byElizabeth’s minister, whose arms are upon it, with the date1575.  The sideboard, with its canopy of oak, assimilateswith the fitting of the room, and had upon its shelves aglittering display of ancient glass and early plate. Salvers and cups of singular forms and beautiful shapes aroseproudly up, one above the other, with dishes of Raffaelle warebeneath them.  But I cannot help seeing that the steel-cladknight, who keeps guard in a recess by the sideboard, attractsmore of your attention. Leathern black jack and iron jugThe effigy is an excellent suit of fluted armour of HenryVIIth’s time; and in the opposite recess, those hugedrinking-vessels are only an honest old English leathern blackjack and an iron jug; the former from St. Cross, Winchester, thelatter from the castle of some German baron, and full of feudalcharacter.

As for the other relics in the dining-room, I will onlyp.231particularise two or three more; and they are a pair ofround and solid well-carved pendents from the chancel of thechurch of Stratford-on-Avon, which have been removed from theiroriginal station immediately over the tomb of Shakspeare; and arenow, as you see, inverted and used here as footstools.

“Think of that, Master Brooke!”

The other relic is that matchless piece of sculptured oakEffigy in oak of Emperor Rudolph II. which represents the Emperor Rudolph II., the size of life(five feet six inches in height), and which was brought fromAix-la-Chapelle by the late Sir Herbert Taylor.  What mayhave been its former history I cannot tell you, but it resemblesin execution the exquisite Gothic figures in the chimney-piece ofthe town-hall at Bruges, and is of about the same height andsize.

Are you willing to forsake the thoughtful soberness of antiqueoak-panelling for the tinsel of Venetian gold and the richness ofGenoa velvet, Florentine tapestry, and Persian arras?  Ifso, we will ascend to the drawing-rooms and gallery.  Butstay a moment and permit this lady and oddly-dressed gentleman topass us on their exit from the gallery, where they have beenrehearsing some charming entertainment for the evening, orgettingp. 232up some piece of fanciful mummery toamuse the idle guests who have congregated around the gardenfountain. Couple exiting from galleryThe light is not favourable for seeing all the pictures thatdeserve inspection on the staircase—you had better ascend;and now, having reached the head of the semi-staircase, ourcourse is along this lobby to the opposite door-way, which isthat of the drawing-room.

Let us enter at once, and in our tour of the Pryor’sBank regard the ante-drawing-room as a kind of middle orpassage-room, belonging either to the gallery or thedrawing-room.  I admit that the arrangement of the house,which, however, is very simple, appears puzzling at first: thereason of this is, that the senses are often deceived, frommirrors here and there being so judiciously arranged, that theyreflect at happy angles objects which would otherwise escapeobservation.  It is impossible to convey an idea of thewhole effect of the Pryor’s Bank, made up as it has been ofcarvings of unrivalled richness, grace, and variety, solemn andgrotesque.  Statues are there, some of the highest class ofart, others which belong to an early Gothic period, and yet anharmonious effect has been produced.  Wherep.233will you take up your position for a generalview?  At the other end? or in the oriel window looking onthe Bishop’s Walk?

Oriel Window.  Venetian Table

Now if it were not for that richly gilt Venetian table, thecompanion to which is in the possession of the Earl ofHarrington, we might have an excellent view of that magnificentlyembellished recess, upon the merits of which Mr. Baylis iscommenting to another oddly equipped gentleman.  Therecertainly is something going forward in the fancy-dressway.  On this Venetian table stands a French astronomicalclock; upon it are silver medallions of Louis XIII. and XIV., andamong its ornaments the monograms of these monarchs appear.

Here is a group, in ivory, of bacchanals, with attendantp.234boys; a genuine piece of Fiamingo’s work, cutfrom solid ivory, and formerly in the collection of theVatican.  Here,Group in Ivory: Tapestried Recesscome this way, we may as well pick up something of thehistory of this tapestried recess, the canopy and seats of which,and the three other recesses in the drawing-room, are fashionedout of the remains of a large throne or dais brought fromFlorence, and which had belonged to the Medici family.  Thematerials are of the richest possible kind, being flowers offloss silk upon a ground-work of gold thread, interspersed withsilver.  The effect produced by this combination is gorgeousin the extreme.  “And those figures?”  Thatnearest the eye is a statue of the Emperor Rudolph of Hapsburgh,admirably carved in oak, the armour is of silver damasked withgold.  The otherp. 235figure, and a corresponding one onthe opposite side of the room, represent Gothic queens, whoserobes have been restored in the illuminated style ofdecoration.  “And the tapestry in therecess?”  Listen to what Mr. Baylis is saying. “Thinking over it,” remarked Sir Bulwer Lytton to me,“I have very little doubt but that my guess wasright—that the fisherman is meant for Antony and the ladyfor Cleopatra; it was a favourite story in the middle ages, howAntony, wishing to surprise Cleopatra with his success inangling, employed a diver to fix fishes on his hook. Cleopatra found him out, and, in turn, employed a diver of herown to put waggishly a salt (sea) fish on hishook.”  The story is in Plutarch, and the popularityof the anecdote may be seen by the use Shakspeare makes ofit.  Charmian says,—

      “’Twasmerry when
You wagered on your angling; when your diver
Didhang a salt fish on his hook, which he
With fervency,drew up.”[235]

It is no doubt correctly conjectured by Sir Bulwer Lytton,that many subjects in tapestry (not Scriptural) have theirexplanation in Plutarch, the fashionable classic source of taleand legend for our fathers of the middle ages.  Shakspeare,it need scarcely be observed, depends on him for all his classicplots; and he was no less a favourite on the Continent than withus.  If you observe the attitude and expression ofCleopatra, for so we will consider her, you will perceive thatthere is something impressive, as well as smiling, about herwhich would suit the words shep. 236is supposedto have uttered, when she had laughed sufficiently at the trickshe played him, and which, to the best of my recollection, ranthus, “Leave fishing to us smaller potentates; your anglingshould be for cities and kingdoms.”

Every article of the furniture merits your attention. Here is a Venetian chair;[236] it is one of a setof twenty-six, with a sofa, brought from the Gradenigo Palace,and is carved and gilt all over,—the back, and seat, andcushions for the arms, being Genoa red velvet. Venetian chairFourteen of these chairs, with the sofa, are in this room;the other twelve were purchased by the Earl of Lonsdale.

Vases of Dresden china, marqueterie tables, and a shrine (seepage 237) of gilt carved work at one end of the room, reflectedin mirrors of gigantic dimensions, dazzle the senses; and itsceiling studded with blue and gold pendants, and its walls allpainted over with quaint devices like the pages of amissal.  Also a magnificent Gothic chimney-piece (see page238) of Carrara marble, fitted with brass-work of ormolu andchimney-glass.  The chimney was removed from the grandGothic-room at Carlton House, and cost George IV. many hundredpounds.  Indeed the drawing-room of the Pryor’s Bankseems to be more like some scene in an enchanted palace,p.237than in an every-day residence upon the bank of theriver Thames.

Shrine

The ante-room is not less splendidly furnished.  Itsceiling is even more elaborately embellished than that of thedrawing-room, for the heads of mitred abbots, jolly monks, anddemure nuns look down upon us from each intersection of thegroining.

p.238A Florentine cabinet (see page 239), of mosaic work inlapis lazuli, pietra dura, topaz, agates, etc., one of the finestspecimens of the kind ever seen,—it eventually came intothe possession of Mr. Hurst, who asked fifteen hundredGothic Chimney-pieceguineas for it—a magnificent carved oak chimney-piece(see page 240); chairs which belonged to Queen Elizabeth; andamong other pictures, an undoubted one byp. 239Janssen, of“Charles II. dancing at the Hague,” must not detainus, although it be a duplicate of the celebrated picture in thepossession of Her Majesty, with which the history of this iscompletely identical, both having been purchased from the sameindividual at the same period.

A Florentine Cabinet

“And that portrait of Elizabeth?”  It wasgiven by Charles II. to Judge Twysden.  “And thatother portrait?”  Yes, it is Lord Monteagle; not ofExchequer documentary fame, but of Gunpowder Plotnotoriety.  And there are portraits of Katharine of Aragonand Prince Arthur from Strawberry Hill.  I positively cannotallow you to dwellp. 240on that chimney-piece of Raffaelledesign, carved in oak and coloured in ultra-marine and gold.

I entirely agree with you in thinking it a pity that theCarved Oak chimney-piece vast labours of our ancestors—things upon which theybestowed so much time and thought—should be blown intooblivion by the mere breath of fashion.  How much nobler isthe fashion to respect, cherish, and admire them!

And now we are again within the gallery, and look upon theante-room through the private entrance, and in another second wemight be within the bay-window of the gallery; for, place thesesketches together at a right angle, side by side, and the part ofthe sofa which appears in one, is only the continuation of thesame seat in the other.  But this must not make you thinkthat the Pryor’s Bank is but a miniature affair, or giveyou a contemptible idea of the size.  You should rather takeyour general notion of the proportions of the gallery from aglance at that lady who is studying with so much attention thepart she hasp. 241undertaken to enact, and look up asto the comparative height of the window at the top compartmentsmade up of ancientBay-Window:  Private Entrancepainted glass, charged with the arms of some of the medievalkings of England, among which you cannot fail to notice those ofRichard III.  Those two elaborately-wrought lanterns whichdepend from the groined ceiling, formerly hung in the Gothicconservatory of Carlton House, and the recesses of the walls areadorned with eleven full-length portraits of kings and queens ofSpain painted upon leather.

Look at those ebony and ivory couches, and this ebony chair,from which justice was formerly meted out by the Dutch andEnglish rules to the Cingalese; and see here this great chair, soprofusely carved and cushioned withp. 242rich blackvelvet worked with gold. Black velvet chairIt is said to have been the Electoral coronation chair ofSaxony; and the date assigned to it in the ‘Builder’is 1620.  The armorial bearings embroidered upon the backwould probably settle the question; but I know little of foreignheraldry beyond the fact that sufficient attention is not paid toit in this country.

Attached to the gallery at the opposite end of the lobby fromwhich we entered the drawing-room, there is a boudoir, orrobing-room—a perfect gem in its way. Nell Gwynne’s mirrorYou have only to touch this spring, and that picture startsfrom the wall and affords us free egress.  Just take onepeep into this fairy boudoir.

There hangs against the wall Nell Gwynne’s mirror, inits curious frame of needlework.  Oh!  You wish to takea peep at yourself in Nelly’s looking-glass?  Odds,fish! mind you do not overset that basset table of Japanmanufacture—another Strawberry Hill relic.  Now, areyou satisfied?  Thosep. 243beautifulenamels, and that charming Bermudian brain-stone, the wonderfulnetwork of which infinitely exceeds the finest lace?  Well,I must admit that some philosophy is required to feel satisfiedwhen revelling among the ornaments of palaces, the treasures ofmonasteries, and the decorations of some of the proudest mansionsof antiquity; and did we not turn our eyes and regard theinfinitely superior works of Nature, alike bountifully spreadbefore the poor and the rich man, the heart might feel an inwardsickening at the question.  In the state carved-oak bed-roomis a finely carved walnut-wood German cabinet of the trueElizabethan period.

German cabinet (Eizabethan period)

Though within the walls of the Pryor’s Bank, or anyother human habitation, all that is rich in art may bep.244assembled, yet, without the wish to turn these objectsto a beneficial purpose, they become only a load of care; butwhen used to exalt and refine the national taste, they confer animmortality upon the possessor, and render him a benefactor tohis species; when used, also, as accessories to the cultivationof kindly sympathies and the promotion of social enjoyment, theyare objects of public utility.  The revival of old-fashionedEnglish cordiality, especially at Christmas, had been always afavourite idea with the owners of the Pryor’s Bank, and in1839 they gave an entertainment which, like

“O’Rourke’s noble feast, willne’er be forgot
By those who were there or those who were not.”

They were fortunate in securing the aid of Theodore Hook, ofpleasant, and, alas! of painful memory, who was their neighbour,with that of some other friends and acquaintances, who thoroughlyentered into the whim of recalling olden times by the enactmentof masques and other mummeries.

Hook, in his manuscript journal of Thursday, the 26th ofDecember, 1839, notes that he was engaged to dine with LadyQuentin at Kew:—

“Weather dreadful, so resolved to write heran excuse and came home in coach early, so up to Baylis’s,where I was asked to dine.  They came here, and we walked uptogether; so to rehearsal, and then back again to bed.”

Hook’s letter, in a feigned hand, to Mr. Baylis uponthis occasion ran thus:—

“Sir,—Circumstancis hoeing too the Foxhand wether in Lunnun as indered me of goen two Q.  whereforhif yew plese i ham reddy to cump. 245to re-ersaltwo nite, in ten minnits hif yew wil lett the kal-boy hof yewertheeter bring me wud—if you kant reed mi riten ax MisterKroften Kroker wich his a Hanty queerun like yewerself honly heeas bin longerhatit          yewers two kommand,

“TEE HEE OOK.”

      “Master Bailieshesquire,
        Manger hofthee,
T.R.P.B. and halso Proper rioter thereof.”

On Saturday, Hook records in his ‘Diary’ hishaving refused his “firmest friend’s command”that he should dine with him—“because,” writesHook, “I cannot on account of the things to be done atPryor’s Bank.”

Of the memorable Monday, the 30th of December, Hooknotes:—

“To-day, not to town, up and toBaylis’s; saw preparations.  So, back, wrote a little,then to dinner, afterwards to dress; so to Pryor’s Bank,there much people,—Sir George and Lady Whitmore, Mrs.Stopford, Mrs. Nugent, the Bully’s, and various others, tothe amount of 150.  I acted the ‘Great Frost’with considerable effect.  Jerdan, Planché, Nichols,Holmes and wife, Lane, Crofton Croker, Giffard, Barrow.  TheWhitmore family sang beautifully; all went off well.”

The part of the Great Frost to which Hook alludes was in amasque, written for the occasion, and printed and sold in therooms, for the benefit of the Royal Literary Fund; and among therecord of miscellaneous benefactions to this most admirablecharity are registered—“Christmas masquers andmummers at the Pryor’s Bank, Fulham, the seat of ThomasBaylis, Esq., F.S.A., and William Lechmere Whitmore, F.S.A.(1840), £3 12s. 6d.”  Thus carrying out in deedas well as act the benevolent feelings of the season.

What little plot there was in this production hadp.246reference to the season, the house in which it wasperformed, and temporary events.  Egomet, an imp, mostpiquantly personified by Mr. John Barrow, opened the affair in amoralising strain prophetically applicable to the moment.

After stating who and what he was, he starts:—

      “ButI’m all over wonder.
Surely the kitchen must be somewhere under?
But where’sthe room?—the matchless littlechamber,
With its dark ceiling, and its light of amber—
That fairy den, by Price’s pencil drawn,
Enchantment’s dwelling-place?  ’Tisgone—’Tis gone!
The times are changed, I said, and men grown frantic,
Some cross in steamboats o’er the vast Atlantic;
Some whirl on railroads, and some fools there are
Who book their places in the pendant car
Of the great Nassau—monstrous, big balloon!
Poor lunatics! they think they’ll reach the moon!
All onward rush in one perpetual ferment,
No rest for mortals till they find interment;
Old England is not what it once has been,
Dogs have their days, and we’ve had ours, I ween.
The country’s gone! cut up by cruel railroads,
They’ll prove to many nothing short of jail-roads.
The spirit vile of restless innovation
At Fulham e’en has taken up his station.
I landed here, on Father Thames’s banks,
To seek repose, and rest my wearied shanks;
Here, on the grass, where once I could recline,
Like a huge mushroom springs this mansion fine.
Astounding work! but yesterday ’twas building;
And now what armour, carving, painting, gilding!
Vexed as I am, yet loth to be uncivil,
I only wish the owner at the ---!”

Father Thames (Mr. Giffard), who had been slumbering betweentwo painted boards, respectively inscribedp.247middlesex countybank” and “surreybank,” and surrounded by flower-pots filled withbulrushes and sedge, roused by the intended imprecation upontheir host, here interrupted Egomet, and entered into a longdialogue with him, in which he detailed all his grievances so faras gas and steam were concerned.  At length he feels theinfluence of Hook as “the Great Frost,” who turns

“The old blackguard to solidice.”

Upon which Egomet’s remark was, that—

“The scene to Oxford shifted in a triceis,
This river-god—no longer Thames, but Isis.”

Father Christmas (Mr. Crofton Croker) then appeared with along speech about eating, drinking, and making merry, and thewondrous power that a good fire and a cheerful glass have uponthe heart.  Beholding “poor Thamesa-cold”—“an icy, heartlessriver”—the question follows, what

      “Do Ithe matter see?
I’ll thaw you soon—begone to Battersea,
There let thy icebergs float in Chelsea Reach.”

The Great Frost, too, after much buffoonery, turns himselfinto

“A pleasant fall of fleecy snow,”

which he effected by the vigorous use of the kitchendredging-box, and an ample supply of flour, therewith bepowderingJolly Christmas, Father Thames, and Egomet, so plentifully as toleave no doubt upon the minds of the audience respecting thetransformation.

Another Christmas revel followed, and then came “a GrandTournament,” in which a contest between “thep.248Blue Knight” (Mr. Lechmere Whitmore), and“the Yellow Knight” (Mr. Baylis), each mounted uponhobby-horses, was most fiercely executed.  Nor was the GiantCormoran (fourteen feet in height), nor the Queen of Beauty, northe Dragon Queen wanted to complete the chivalry of thisburlesque upon the memorable meeting at Eglinton.

The fun which now became

“fast and furious,”

and to which an impudent but most amusing jester (Mr. Jerdan)mainly contributed, was checked only by the announcement ofsupper; and as the guests descended the stairs from the gallery,or assembled on the lobby, they beheld their cheer borne inprocession from the kitchen, headed by a military band and aherald-at-arms.  A cook, with his cap and apron of snowywhiteness, placed a boar’s head

“Bedeck’d with bays androsemary,”

upon the table; then came two ancient halberdiers, followed bya serving-man in olden livery, carrying the wassail-bowl; thenanother herald in his tabard, and servitors with Christmas-pie,and brawn, and soup, and turkey, and sirloin of beef, andcollared brawn, whereof was an abundant supply, and of the mostmagnificent dimensions.  Father Christmas, carving-knife inhand, and belted with mincepies, and his attendant Egomet, withfollowers bearing holly, ivy, and mistletoe, brought up therear.  Then was sung “beautifully,” as Hooknotes, by four voices, the Oxford chant of

“The boar’s head in hand bearI.”

p.249And here we must drop the curtain, but not withoutstating that several of the guests felt the enjoyment of theevening so warmly, that it was in long debate among them whatsuitable acknowledgment in recollection of it should be made toMr. Baylis and Mr. Whitmore; and, that the actors in the masquepresented these gentlemen with an ancient charter horn, which hadbelonged to the Pickard family, and which they were fortunateenough to secure.  The height of this horn, which issupposed to be that of the Highland buffalo—an animal saidto be extinct nearly three hundred years—is one foot twoinches, its length is one foot six inches, its width at the topfive and a half inches; and it is capable of containing onegallon.

Upon this most gratifying memorial to the owners of thePryor’s Bank, of the esteem created by their hospitality,suitable inscriptions were placed by the donors, with themotto:—

“While Thames doth flow, or wine isdrank,
par-hæl to all at Pryor’s Bank.
      ++unc-hæl.”

The remembrance of the pleasant hours passed within the wallsof the Pryor’s Bank will not easily be forgotten, thoughthe character of the interior is changed since this waswritten.  The first sale took place on the 3rd May, 1841,and five following days: and there was a subsequent sale on the25th May, 1854, and four following days.  Both these salestook place on the premises, and the Auctioneer, on bothoccasions, was Mr. Deacon.

Pryor’s Bank is now let to Mr. E. T. Smith, of HerMajesty’s and Drury Lane Theatres.

p. 250INDEX OF PLACES.

Acacia Cottage,148.
“Admiral Keppel,”75.
Albany Lodge,147.
Alexander Square,73–4.
Alfred Place,73.
Amelia Place,76.
Amyot House,120.
Arundel House,152–4.
Ashton Terrace,202.
Audley Cottage,164.

Battersea Bridge,94.
Bear Street, Fulham,187.
“Bell and Anchor,”210.
“Bell and Horns,”58.
Bishop’s Walk,190.
Bolingbroke Lodge,147.
Bolton House,118.
Boltons,96.
Bostocke’s Arbour,88.
“Brickhills,”131.
Bridge Street,193.
Brightwells,166.
Brompton,24.
— Crescent,64–7.
— Grange,63.
— Grove,43,48.
— — Lower,44.
— — Upper,43.
— Hall,87.
— National School,38.
— New Church (Holy Trinity),54.
— Park,62.
— Road,29.
— Row,26,38,42.
— Square,51–4.
Broom Lane,169.
Brunswick Cottage,156.
Bull Alley,135.
Bull Lane,135.
— Public House,135.
“Bunch of Grapes,”43.
Burleigh House,121.
Burlington House,181.
— Road, Fulham,181.
Butchers’ Almshouses, Walham Green,138.

Cambridge Lodge,196.
Cancer Hospital,84,
Carey Villa,167.
“Cedars, The,”210.
Cemetery, West London and Westminster,127.
Chelsea New Church,80,81.
— Park,89,90,93.Church Lane,187.
— Row, Fulham,187.
— Street, Brompton,87.
— — Fulham,193.
Churchfield House,173.
Claybrooke House,181.
Consumption Hospital,85.
Corder’s, Mrs., Preparatory School,118.
Craven Cottage,190–1.
Cremorne Gardens,127.
Crescent House,64.
“Crown and Sceptre,”40.

Dancer’s Nursery,172.
Deadman’s Lane,201.
Door, Old, Fulham Fields,195.
Draw Well in Fulham Fields,199.
Drury Lodge,169.
Dungannon House,147.

Earl’s Court,58.
East End House, Parson’s Green,164.
Edith Grove,127.
p.251— Road,201.
— Villas,201.
Eel Brook,141.
Egmont Villa,188.
“Eight Bells,”193.
Elm House,200.
Exhibition Road,62.

Flounder Field,”72.
Foote’s House (North End),196.
— Stables (North End),196.
Fowlis Terrace,87.
Fulham,180.
— Almshouses,181.
— Aqueduct,189.
— Bridge,192.
— Charity School,193.
— Church,187.
— Ferry,192.
— Fields,195,197–9.
— High Street,181,187.
— Lodge,173–7.
— Palace,190.
— Park Road,177.
— Street,187.
— Vicarage,187.
— Workhouse,181.

Gardener’s House, Old, FulhamFields,199.
“George, The,”193.
Gilston Road,96.
Gloucester Buildings, Brompton,25.
— Row, Brompton,25.
— — Knightsbridge,26.
“Goat in Boots,”94–5.
“Golden Lion,” Fulham,181–6.
Gore Lodge, Fulham,181.
— — Old Brompton,62.
Grove House,44–7.
— Place,43,47.
“Gunter Arms,”126.
— Grove,127.

Hans Place,30,37.
— — Attic at,83.
Heckfield Lodge,120.
— Villa,147.
Hermitage, Brompton,44,47.
— North End,196.
— Lodge, North End,195–6.
High Elms House,155.
Holcroft’s Hall,180.
— Priory,181.
Hollywood Brewery,118.
— Place,126.
Honey Lane,127.
Hooper’s Court,25.
Hospital for Consumption,85.

Ivy Cottage,169.
— House, Old Red,170.
— Lodge,177.

Jews’ Burial-ground,87.
John’s Place,188.

Kensington Canal,127,134.
— Gore Estate,59.
— Hall,200.
— Road,211.
“Keppel, Admiral,”75.
— Street,75.
King’s Road,24.
Knightsbridge,24.
— Green,25.
— High Row,30.

Lansdowne Villas,126.
Lauman’s Academy,166.
Lawn Terrace,202.
Little Chelsea,94.

Machine for Raising Water (FulhamFields),199.
Main Fulham Road,24.
Manor Hall,96.
— House,96.
Marlborough Road,75.
Michael’s Grove,63.
— Place,50,67,70–2.
Military Academy, Chelsea,119.
Montpellier Square,40.
Mulberry House,120.
Munster House,170–2.
— Terrace,173.
Mustow House,170.

National School, Brompton,38.
— Society, Practising School of,134.
New Street,30,37.
p.252“No Man’s Land,”197.
Normal School Chapel,130.
Normand House,196.
North End,195–211.
— — Lodge,193.
— — Road,197.
— Terrace,73.

Odell’s Place,115.
Old Brompton Road,58.
Onslow Square,82.
Oratory of St. Philip Neri,58.
Osborn’s Nursery,172.
Ovington Square,47.

Paradise Row,114.
Park Cottage,147.
— House,154–5.
— Walk,95.
Parson’s Green,164–9.
— — Lane,164.
Pelham Crescent,76,79.
— Place,79–80.
Percy Cross,141,155.
Peterborough House,166–9.
Pollard’s School,58.
Pond Place,80.
Porch, Old, of Arundel House,153.
Prince Albert’s Road,62.
Pryor’s Bank,187,212–249.
Pump, Old, in Arundel House,153.
Purser’s Cross,141,154–5.

Queen’s Buildings, Brompton,25,30.
— — Knightsbridge,25,29,30.
— Elm,88–9.
— Turnpike,87.
— Row, Knightsbridge,25.
Quibus Hall,155.

Rawstorne Street,40.
Read’s, Miss, Academy,118.
Rectory House, Parson’s Green,165.
“Red Lion,”40.
Reformatory School, Fulham,181.
Rightwells,166.
“Rising Sun,”135.
Robert Street,83–4.
— — Upper,83.
Rosamond’s Bower,156–164.
Rosamond’s Bower, Old,156.
— Dairy,157.

St. Luke’s Church, Chelsea,80,83.
St. Mark’s Chapel,130.
— College,130.
— Terrace,130.
St. Mary’s Place,96.
St. Peter’s Villa,170.
St. Philip’s Orphanage,96.
Salem Chapel,136.
“Sand Hills,” The,90.
Sandford Bridge,134.
School, Practising, at St. Mark’s College,134.
Selwood’s Nursery,89.
Selwood Place,89.
Seymour Place,96,98.
— Terrace,96,98.
Shaftesbury House,100–12.
— — Garden of,104–5.
Sign, Old (“White Horse” at Parson’s Green),164.
Sir John Scott Lillie’s Road,127.
“Sisters of Compassion,”44.
Sloane Square,24.
— Street,24.
“Somerset Arms,”96.
South Kensington Museum,59–61.
Stamford Road,135.
— Villas,135.
Stanley Grove,132–3.
— — House,131–2.
— House,131.
Swan Tavern, Fulham,192.
— — and Brewery, Walham Green,135.
Sydney Place,83.
— Street,83.

Tavistock House,118.
Thames Bank,187.
Thistle Grove,93–4.
Thurloe Place,61.

Veitch’s Royal ExoticNursery,130.
Vine Cottage,213–14.

Walham Green,136–7.
— House,193.
— Lodge,147.
p.253Walnut Tree Cottage,200.
— — Walk,121.
Wansdon Green,137.
— House,137.
Warwick House,120.
Wentworth Cottage,197.
West Brompton Brewery,118.
Western Grammar School,73.
“White Horse,” old sign of,164.
Willow Bank,192.
Windsor Street,193.
Winter Garden, Old Brompton,62.
Workhouse, additional, to St. George’s, Hanover Square,100.

Yeoman’s Row,43.
York Cottage,195.
— Place,84.

INDEX OF NAMES OF PERSONS.

Ackermann, Rudolph,177–9.
Aikin, Lucy,160.
Albert, Prince,85.
Andrews, J. Petit,44.
Anspach, Margravine of,190.
Appletree, John,90.
Arundel, Henry,131,154.

Baker, Rev. R. G.,187.
Balchen, Sir John,115.
Banim,48–9,79.
Barham, H.,90,189.
Barrow, John,246.
Bartolozzi, F.,68–9,196.
Batsford, Miss,187.
Baud, Benjamin,127.
Baylis, Thomas,187,191,214.
Bayliss, Moses,25.
Bell, T. J.,164.
Beloe, Rev. W.,42.
Biber, Rev. Dr.,83.
Billington, Mrs.,70.
Blake, Mr.,90.
Blanchard, Mr.,119.
—, William,81.
Blomfield, Bishop,187.
Blore, Mr.,134.
Bodley, Sir Thomas,165.
Bonnor, Bishop,181.
Boothby, Sir W.,203.
Boscawen, William,121.
Bovey Family, the,101.
Bowen, Rev. Thomas,156.
Bowes, Mr.,132.
Boyd, Hugh,46.
Boyle, Hon. Robert,111.
— Family, the,113.
Bradshaigh, Lady,203–210.
Braham, John,63.
Brand, Mr.,147.
Branscomb, Sir James,210.
Brooks, Shirley,51.
Broomfield, W.,92.
Brotherhood, Mr.,189.
Browne, H. K. (“Phiz”),135.
Brunton, Miss,71.
Buckstone, J. B.,51.
Bulwer, Lady,31.
Burbage, Robert,182.
Burchell, Dr.,173.
Burgoyne, Sir John,181.
—, Miss,181.
Burke, John,94.
Burleigh, Lord,121.
Burney, Miss,133.
Byfield, Adoniram,165.

Cahill, Dr.,67.
Carey, Hon. Thomas,167.
Catalani, Madame,47.
Cattley, Rev. Stephen Reid,128,172.
Cecill, Hon. John,121.
Chalon, Mr.,37.
Chatterley, Mrs.,51.
Cheeseman,200.
Cheselden, W.,192.
Child, Sir Francis,165.
Cipriani,181,201.
Clerke, Major Shadwell,44.
Cleyne, Francis,167.
Cole, Henry,60,82.
Collier, Payne,53.
Colman, George, the Younger,51–2,173–7.
p.254Conyers, General,192.
Cooper, John,79.
Cope, Sir John,114.
Copley,200.
Corpe, John,55.
Cranfield, Lord Treasurer,90.
Craven, Countess of,190.
Cribb, R.,94.
Croker, Rt. Hon. John Wilson,171.
—, Thomas Crofton,130,156,162–3,181,198,247.
—, Mrs. Crofton,130.
Croly, Rev. Dr.,50,77.
Cromwell, Oliver,170.
Crotch, Dr.,202.
Curran, John Philpot,76–9.
Curtis, Mr.,80,85–7.

Darby, Mrs.,117.
Davenport, Mrs.,71.
Davis, the late Henry George,24.
—, Charles,24.
Dawes, Sir W.,113–114.
Deacon, Mr.,250.
Delafield, Mr.,192.
Delille, C. J.,72.
—, Madame,72.
Denham, Mr.,120.
—, Colonel,120.
Doharty, Mr.158.
Donaldson, Mr.,54.
Dormer, Edward,198.
Duffield, Mr.,115.
Dunn, Anne,27–8.

Edington, J.,212.
Egerton, Daniel,81.
—, Mrs.,82.
Ekins, Dr.,165.
Elizabeth, Queen,87.
Ellenborough, Lord,187.
Evelyn, John,111.
Eyre, Sir James,132.

Faber, Rev. F. W.,59.
Fairholt, F. W.,40.
Farren, W.,53.
—, Harriet Elizabeth,57.
Faucit, Helen,70,82.
Fitzherbert, Mrs.,165.
Fitzroy, Rear Admiral,83.
Fitzwilliam, Edward,51.
Florio,182,184–5.
Foot, Jesse,27,28.
Foote, Samuel,196.
Fowler, Edward,113.

Garcia, Madame,170.
George IV.,165,213.
Giffard, Mr.,247.
Glascock, Captain,73–4.
Godwin, George, jun.,38,74.
Golini, Julius,67.
Gorges, Sir Arthur,131.
Grant, Colonel,134.
Green,30.
Gregor, Mrs.,133.
Gresham, John,198.
Griffin, Gerald,48,49,97–8.
Grisi, Madame,146.
Guizot,79.
—, Madame,80.
Gunter, R.,127.

Hall, S. C.,197.
—, Mrs. S. C.,31,197.
Hallam, H.,154.
Halliwell, J. O.,96.
Hamey, Dr. Baldwin,113.
Hamilton, Walter,39–40.
—, William Richard,132.
Hampton, Mr.,136.
Hargrave, Francis,84.
Harris, A.,80.
—, H.,78.
Hartshorne, Rev. C. H.,138.
Hawarden, Lady,214.
Hawkins, John Sidney,44.
Heavyside, R.,166.
Herbert, Sir E.,167.
Hewett, Mr.,67.
Holl, Henry,61.
Holland, Mr.,155.
Holmes, W., M. P.,214.
Hook, Theodore,133,177,187–90,245–6.
Howard, Sir Ralph,191.
Huck, J. G.,26.
Hullmandel, Mr.,150–1.
Humphrey, Ozias,29.
Hutchins, John,25.
p.255Hyde, Edward, 3rd Earl of Clarendon,115.

Incledon, Charles,64.

Jerdan, W.,47,248.
Jesse, J. H.,70.
Johnson, Mr. Joseph,148–9.
Jones, Richard,78.

Kean, Edmund,200.
Keeley, Mr.,54,79.
—, Mrs.,54,79.
Kempe, A. J.,135.
King, Mr.,139.
Kingsley, Rev. Charles,83.
Knight, James House,123.
Knolles, Sir Thomas,166.

Lacy, Walter,40.
Lamb, Lady Caroline,31.
Lance, the Misses,32.
Landon, Miss (“L. E. L.”),30–7,54.
Laurie, John,180.
Lazarus, H.,80.
Le Blon, James Christopher,91.
Lillie, Sir John Scott,127.
Limpany, Robert,190.
Liston, Mr.,54,71.
Liston, Mrs.,40,67.
Lochee, Lewis,119–20,132.
Locke,104,111.
London, Bishop of,54.
Lorrington, Meribah,116.
Lowth, Rev. Robert,173–6.
Luttrell, Francis,108.
—, Henry,54.
—, Narcissus,89,102–3,108.
Lytton, Sir E. Bulwer,191,197,236.

M’Leod, Dr. John,80.
M’Naughten, Mrs.,34.
Macpherson, Sir John,45–6.
Mahony, Rev. F.,164.
Mangeon, Mrs.,27–8.
Mario, Signor,146.
Marochetti, Baron,82.
Mart, Mr.,114.
Martin, Theodore,82.
Mathews, Charles,62,181.
—, Mrs., sen.,71.
Meyrick, Mr. J.,166.
Milton, Mr.,121,147.
Mitford, Miss,31.
Moore, Thomas,162–3.
Mordaunt, Lord,167–8.
More, Sir Thomas,89.
Morland,95.
Morse, Leonard.132.
Murphy, Arthur,26–8,38.
Murray, John,148–9.
—, Sir Robert,111.

Nattes, J. C.,25.
Newman, Rev. J. H.,59.
Nicholson, F.,128–30.
Nisbett, Mrs.,203.
Novosielski, Madame,70.
—, Michael,43,50,63.

O’Donnell, Major-General SirChas.,162–3.
Ord, John,140–5.
Orrery, 2nd Earl of,113.
—, Charles, 4th Earl of,112.
Owen, Rev. John,145.

Parr, Dr.,42.
Piccolomini,165.
Pigot, the Right Hon. D. R.,37.
Pitts, Mr. Oliver,139.
Place, Francis,51.
Planché, J. R.,65–6.
Plumbe, W.,198.
Pope,147.
—, Miss,70–1.
Porter, Walsh,169,190,213.
Pouchée, Louis,128.
Powell, Mr.,156,186.
—, Sir W., Bart.,170,181.
Pyne, J. B.,195.

Queensberry, Marquis of,134.

Ravensworth, Lord,138,140.
Reeve, John,42,53–4,57.
Remaudini, Count,67.
Rennell, Rev. Mr.,42.
Richardson, C. J.,66.
—, Samuel,169,202–210.
Riego, General,96–9.
—, Madame,96–9.
Roberts, Emma,31,34.
Robins, George,189.
Robinson, Anastasia, (“Perdita,”)115–18,169.
Robson, W. Frogatt,53.
Rocque, Bartholomew,139.
Rodwell, G. H.,39,65.
Rollin, Ledru,80.
Romney,29.
Rovedino, Signor Carlo,81.
Rowden, Miss,32,36.
Roy,181.
Ruddock, Rev. Joshua,156.
Rumford, Count,40.
Ryland, William Wynne,26,202.

St. John,147.
St. Quentin, Countess,32.
Salisbury, Mr.,85,145.
Sampayo, M.,171.
Saunders, Sir Edward,169.
Savage, Mr.,80.
Scoles, Mr.,59.
Schiavonetti, Lewis,67–69.
Schulenberg, Melesina,170.
Shaftesbury, Lord,101,104.
Shakespeare,182–6.
Sharp, Granville,188.
Sheepshanks, John,60.
Shower, Sir Bartholomew,113.
Simpson, Mrs. Anne,145–6.
Slater, Mr.,200.
Smith, Albert,194.
—, E. T., 169,249.
—, Alderman H.,72.
—, Sir James,101.
—, “O.,”73.
—, Sir Thomas,167.
Southwell, Miss,132.
Spagnoletti,51.
Stanley Family,131.
Stanley, W.,131.
Steele, R.,38,88.
Strathmore, Countess of,132.
Street, Mr.,186.
Suckland, Sir John,112.
Sylvester, Joshua,185.

Talfourd,197.
Tarnworth, John,166.
Taylor, Mr.,138.
Testolini,68.
Thackeray, W. M.,83.
Tindal, Lord Chief Justice,37.
Tonson, Jacob,195.
Trotter, Thomas,30.
Turberville, Mrs. Elizabeth,155.
—, Mrs. Frances,155.
Tyrhtilus,180.

Vendramini, John,39.
Vestris, Madame,62,96,181.
Vining, James,51.
Virtue, William,109.

Wager, Admiral Sir Charles,131,165.
Ward, Sir Edward,113–14.
Warde, J. P.,94.
Warren, H,84.
—, Dr. Richard,132.
Warwick, Countess of,112.
Watts, B.,75.
Webster, Mr.,62.
Weigall, Mr.,70.
Wharton, Marquis of,90.
—, Sir Michael,155.
Whitmore, Lechmere,214.
Whittaker, Dr.,112.
Wigan, Alfred,37.
—, Mrs. Alfred,37.
Wilberforce, Mr.,47.
Williams, Sir John, Bart.,171.
Wilson, Lady Frances,92.
—, Sir Henry,92.
Winchester, Marquis of,218.
Wishart, Sir James,115.
Wood, Dr. Oswald,64.
Wright, —,92–3.
—, Edward,96.
—, Thomas,83.
Wrottesley, the Hon. Mr.,181.
Wynne, Edward,103–4.
Wynne, Rev. Luttrell,108.
—, Serjeant,102,108.

Yates, Mr.,54,71.
—, Mrs.,71.
York, Duke of,173.
Young, C. D. and Co.,61.

FOOTNOTES.

[18]  See pages156–164.

[25a]  Catalogues of Royal Academy.

[25b]  Foot’s Life of ArthurMurphy.

[25c]  Lockie’sTopography ofLondon.

[25d]  Mr. J. Salway’s MS. plan,executed for the Kensington trustees.

[25e]  Cruchley’s Map ofLondon.

[25f]  Elmes’Topography ofLondon.

[26]  4 vols. 4to, published in1793.

[27a]  2 vols. 8vo, 1801.

[27b]  The extent of this garden maystill be estimated by walking round through Hooper’s Courtinto Sloane Street.

[31]  Born 13th November, 1785, andmarried to the Honourable William Lamb (afterwards ViscountMelbourne) in 1805.  Lady Caroline published three novels,viz.,Glenarvon, in 1816;Graham Hamilton; andAda Reis, 1823.  Her ladyship died in 1828.

[32a]  8vo, 2nd ed. 1812.

[32b]  Ibid.

[33]  It was the wing attached to thehouse between it and “the Pavilion.”  From theback a flight of steps descended into a small garden.

[35]  Memoirs of the Rival Houses ofYork and Lancaster, Historical and Biographical. 1827.  2 vols. 8vo.

[38a]  Correspondence, vol. i. p.293.

[38b]  Vol. lxxv.  Part I. p.590.

[38c]  Ed. 1820, p. 616.

[45a]  2 vols. 4to, 1795.

[45b]  1 vol. 4to, and 2 vols. 8vo,1796,

[48]  ‘Literary Gazette,’November 25, 1843.

[53]  It is no slight testimony to thegenius of Mr. Farren, that since his retirement no actor inLondon has attempted to represent “GrandfatherWhitehead.”

[58]  Rebuilt, and the sign hereengraved removed.

[62]  Brompton Park was the retreat ofone or two favourite actors.  Mr. Webster, the talented andversatile performer, lessee of the Ade1phi Theatre, resided therefor many years.  Mr. and Mrs. Charles Mathews (MadameVestris) lived at Gore Lodge—now pulled down—a namethey afterwards gave to their residence at Fulham.

[65]  Weber died on the 7th of Junefollowing, at No. 91, Great Portland Street, in his fortiethyear.

[72]  4 vols. 8vo; I. and II. 1838;III. and IV. 1839.

[73]  The ‘NavalSketch-book,’ 1828; ‘Sailors and Saints,’ 1829;‘Tales of a Tar,’ 1830; ‘Land Sharks and SeaGulls,’ 1838.

[78]  Died 30th August, 1851.

[80]  Died 7th May, 1852, aged 74.

[84]  II vols. folio, 1781.

[85]  Vol. lxxx.  Part II.

[87a]  Brompton Hall, said to have beenthe residence of Lord Burleigh, stands on the Old Brompton Road,which, as pointed out in the previous chapter, branches from themain Fulham Road at the Bell and Horns.

[87b]  The Duke of Buckingham.

[88]  Correspondence, vol. i. p.219.

[92]  Sir Henry Wilson, who was inParliament when this estate came into his wife’spossession, ordered iron gates for it; in one of which werewrought his initials, H. W., and to correspond, M.P, was placedin the other.  Before the gates were put up he had tocontest his seat, and lost it.

[97]  Riego was executed, on the 7th ofOctober, 1823, at Madrid, with every mark of ignominy.

[110]  Funeral Sermon preached at St.Martin’s-in-the-Fields, 7th January 1691.

[111]  See Birch’s ‘Life ofBoyle,’ p. 114.

[112]  MS. Diary.

[120]  The obituary of the‘Gentleman’s Magazine’ for June 1791,records:—“At Lisle, in Flanders, Lewis Lochee, Esq.,late lieutenant colonel of the Belgic Legion, and formerly keeperof the Royal Military Academy at Chelsea.”

[121]  The gates here represented havenow given place to a light iron railing, and the posts have beensurmounted by balls.

[128]  No. 276, vol. xi. p. 301.

[131]  Todd’s‘Spenser,’ viii. 23.

[133]  MS.

[138]  Pickering, 1829.

[139]  Mr. Rocque, the florist, wasbrother to the surveyor of that name, who published a plan ofLondon, Westminster, and Southwark, on twenty-four sheets, in1747; and a map of London and the country ten miles round, insixteen sheets, the following year.  He also published aroad-book of Great Britain and Ireland in 1763.

[144a]  “This tree was firstintroduced into England in 1753, by Mr. JamesGordon.”—Lysons.

[144b]  “The foliage moreresembles that of thejuglans nigra than of theIllinois-nut in Kew Gardens.”—Ibid.

[144c]  “At two feet from theground it was seven feet two inches, and now (1810) seven feetfive inches.”—Ibid.

[144d]  “The girth of this treewas taken in 1808 at two feet and a half from theground.”—Ibid.

[144e]  “At two feet and a halffrom the ground.”—Ibid.

[145]  James iv. 14.

[155a]  On the same page of the‘London Magazine’ which chronicles this occurrence,may be found the announcement of the death of “Mr. JosephMiller, a celebrated comedian.”

[155b]  Lysons, on the authority of theparish books, states that a Sir Michael Wharton was living atParson’s Green, anno 1654.

[159]  The ground has been recentlylevelled.

[160]  L. E. L.

[171]  Died, 1858.

[188a]  He died there in 1813.

[188b]  Since this sketch was made, thegateway, with the coat of arms over it, has been removed, and abattlemented and Gothic entrance, more in accordance, perhaps,with the architecture of both church and mansion, has beenerected in its stead.

[196]  Died 20th October, 1777, and wasburied in Westminster Abbey.

[213]  Copied from a picture in oil inthe possession of George Bunnett, Esq., of Fulham.

[218]  John, the fifth Marquis ofWinchester, sustained a siege in his seat at Basing from August,1643 to 16th October, 1645, when the place was taken by storm andburned to the ground, “money, jewels, and householdstuff” being found therein to the value of £200,000,among which was a rich bed worth £14,000.

[227]  Now in the South KensingtonMuseum.

[235]  Antony and Cleopatra, act ii.sc. 5.

[236]  Now in the possession of theDuke of Hamilton.

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