To the honest support of the ‘Literary Gazette’ at this critical period in Griffin’s life may be ascribed the struggle which he made for fame and fortune through the blind path of literary distinction. He came a raw Irish lad to the metropolis, with indistinct visions of celebrity floating through his poetical mind; or, as he candidly confesses himself,—
“A young gentleman, totally unknown, even to a single family in London, with a few pounds in one pocket and a brace of tragedies in the other, supposing that the one will set him up before the others are exhausted,” which, he admits, “is not a very novel, but a very laughable, delusion.”
“A young gentleman, totally unknown, even to a single family in London, with a few pounds in one pocket and a brace of tragedies in the other, supposing that the one will set him 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, for Griffin, deserves notice.
“I cannot tell you here,” writes the latter, “the many, many instances in which Banim has shown his friendship since I wrote last; let it suffice to say, that he is the sincerest, heartiest, most disinterested being that breathes. His fireside is the only one where I enjoy anything like social life or home. I go out (to Brompton Grove) occasionally in an evening, and talk or read for some hours, or have a bed, and leave next day.”
“I cannot tell you here,” writes the latter, “the many, many instances in which Banim has shown his friendship since I wrote last; let it suffice to say, that he is the sincerest, heartiest, most disinterested being that breathes. His fireside is the only one where I enjoy anything like social life or home. I go out (to Brompton Grove) occasionally in an evening, and talk or read for some hours, or have a bed, and leave next day.”
Again, in a letter dated 31st of March, 1824, Griffin says:—
“What would I have done if I had not found Banim? I should have instantly despaired on ****’s treatment of me. I should never be tired of talking about and thinking of Banim. Mark me! he is a man, the only one I have met since I left Ireland, almost. We walked over Hyde Park together on St. Patrick’s Day, and renewed our home recollections by gathering shamrocks, and placing them in our hats, even under the eye of John Bull.”
“What would I have done if I had not found Banim? I should have instantly despaired on ****’s treatment of me. I should never be tired of talking about and thinking of Banim. Mark me! he is a man, the only one I have met since I left Ireland, almost. We walked over Hyde Park together on St. Patrick’s Day, and renewed our home recollections by gathering shamrocks, and placing them in our hats, even under the eye of John Bull.”
Michael’s Place, on the same side of the way with the Bunch of Grapes, is railed off from the main Fulham Road, although a public footpath admits the passenger as far as No. 14. It consists of forty-four houses, and was a building speculation of Michael Novosielski, already mentioned, whose Christian name it retains, having been commenced by him in 1786. But the shells of his houses for many years remained unfinished, and in 1811, the two last houses (Nos. 43 and 44) of Michael’s Place were not built. Novosielski died at Ramsgate, 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 its bay-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 writer in almost every walk of English literature, and respected and beloved by those who know him. Croly’s fame must live and die with ourlanguage, which he has grasped with an unrivalled command.
Brompton Squareis opposite to the commencement of Michael’s Place, to which it will be necessary to return, after a visit to the square.
At No. 6 has lived Mr. John Baldwin Buckstone, the actor-author, or author-actor, so well known and esteemed by the public. And at No. 14 has resided Mr. Edward Fitzwilliam, the musical composer, who died on the 19th of January, 1857, at the early age of 33.
No. 21 was, between the years 1829 and 1833, the residence of Spagnoletti, the leader of the Opera band. He was succeeded in the tenancy by Mrs. Chatterly, a lively and accomplished actress, who continued to occupy the same house after her marriage with Mr. Francis Place.
Nos. 22, 23, 24, Brompton SquareAt No. 22 (which now belongs to the well-known and much respected actor Mr. James Vining, and is at present tenanted by Mr. Shirley Brooks) George Colman the younger died on the 26th of October, 1836, at the age of 74, having removed to this house from No. 5 Melina Place, Kent Road. “He ceased to exist on the 17th of October,1836,” says his medical attendant, in a letter published in the memoirs of the Colman family. But this is an error, as on the 19th of October he appears to have written to Mr. Bunn. The last earthly struggle of George Colman has been thus described:—
“It has never fallen to my lot to witness in the hour of death so much serenity of mind, such perfect philosophy, or resignation more complete. Up to within an hour of his decease he was perfectly sensible of his danger, and bore excruciating pain with the utmost fortitude.“At one period of his life a more popular man was not in existence,” observes Mr. Bunn; “for the festive board of the prince or the peer was incomplete without Mr. Colman. He has left behind him a perpetuity of fame in his dramatic works; and much is it to be lamented that no chronicle has been preserved of his various and most extraordinaryjeux-d’esprit. He has, moreover, left behind quite enough of renown, could he lay claim to none other, to be found in the following tribute from the pen of Lord Byron:—‘I have met George Colman occasionally, and thought him extremely pleasant and convivial. Sheridan’s humour, or rather wit, was always saturnine, and sometimes savage; he never laughed (at least that I saw and I have 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 with Colman. Sheridan for dinner, Colman for supper. Sheridan for claret or port, but Colman for everything, from the madeira and champagne at dinner, the claret with a layer of port between the glasses, up to the punch of the night, and down to the grog or gin-and-water of daybreak. Sheridan was a grenadier company of life-guards, but Colman a whole regiment—of light infantry, to be sure, but still a regiment.’”
“It has never fallen to my lot to witness in the hour of death so much serenity of mind, such perfect philosophy, or resignation more complete. Up to within an hour of his decease he was perfectly sensible of his danger, and bore excruciating pain with the utmost fortitude.
“At one period of his life a more popular man was not in existence,” observes Mr. Bunn; “for the festive board of the prince or the peer was incomplete without Mr. Colman. He has left behind him a perpetuity of fame in his dramatic works; and much is it to be lamented that no chronicle has been preserved of his various and most extraordinaryjeux-d’esprit. He has, moreover, left behind quite enough of renown, could he lay claim to none other, to be found in the following tribute from the pen of Lord Byron:—‘I have met George Colman occasionally, and thought him extremely pleasant and convivial. Sheridan’s humour, or rather wit, was always saturnine, and sometimes savage; he never laughed (at least that I saw and I have 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 with Colman. Sheridan for dinner, Colman for supper. Sheridan for claret or port, but Colman for everything, from the madeira and champagne at dinner, the claret with a layer of port between the glasses, up to the punch of the night, and down to the grog or gin-and-water of daybreak. Sheridan was a grenadier company of life-guards, but Colman a whole regiment—of light infantry, to be sure, but still a regiment.’”
The sale of Colman’s effects took place on the 29th of November, 1837; among the pictures sold was the well-known portrait of George Colman the elder, by Sir Joshua Reynolds, which has been engraved; another by Gainsborough, also engraved; a third in crayons, by Rosalba;and a fourth by Zoffani, which formerly belonged to Garrick, a highly-finished miniature of Shakspeare, by Ozias Humphrey, executed in 1784 (a copy of which, made for the Duchess of Chandos, sold at her sale for £40); some watercolour drawings, by Emery, Mrs. Terry, and others; some engravings; more than 1,000 volumes of French and English books; and a collection of miscellanies, including the MSS. of the elder Colman’s most admired productions, and several by George Colman the younger,—amounting in all to twenty-six pieces. John Reeve bought largely of the books; but before two months had elapsed Reeve himself was no more.
No. 23 Brompton Square is occupied by Mr. William Farren, who was for a long period the unrivalled representative of old men upon the stage,[53]and who took his farewell at the Haymarket Theatre in 1855; and No. 24, between the years 1840 and 1843, was the residence of Mr. Payne Collier, who has given to the public several editions of Shakspeare, and who has been long distinguished by his profound knowledge of dramatic literature and history, and his extensive acquaintance with the early poetry of England.
Mr. Collier’s house, in Brompton Square, stood between that which Mr. William Farren occupies, and one (No. 25) of which Mr. Farren was proprietor, and has now been sold. At No. 28 resides Mr. William Frogatt Robson, Solicitor and Comptroller of Droits of Admiralty. Mr. WilliamFarren has resided at No. 30, next door to Mr. Henry Luttrell (No. 31), “the great London wit,” as Sir Walter Scott terms him, well known in the circles of literature as the author of many 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 of Brompton Square, Liston resided for some time at No. 40, Mr. Yates and Mr. John Reeve at 57 and 58; and that pair of comic theatrical gems, Mr. and Mrs. Keeley, have been inhabitants of No. 19.
First graveBrompton New Church, a little beyond the Square, is dedicated to the Holy Trinity. The architect was Mr. Donaldson, and the first stone was laid in October, 1826. On the 6th of June, 1829, the Bishop of London consecrated this church and its burial-ground, which had been a flower-garden. When the first grave was made in the month following, many of the flowers still appeared among the grass; and, after viewing it, Miss Landon wrote the following verses. The “first grave” is in the extreme south-west of the corner churchyard, close to the narrow pathway that skirts the wall, leaving only space for a grave between. The inscriptionon the stone which originally marked the “first grave,” was,—
sacredto the memory ofmr. iohn corpeof this parishof st. george’s hanover squarewho departed this life18th of july1829aged51years.
sacredto the memory ofmr. iohn corpeof this parishof st. george’s hanover squarewho departed this life18th of july1829aged51years.
“A single grave! the only oneIn this unbroken ground,Where yet the garden leaf and flowerAre lingering around.A single grave!—my heart has feltHow utterly aloneIn crowded halls, where breathed for meNot one familiar tone.
“The shade where forest-trees shut outAll 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 forgetHow sunder human ties,When round the silent place of restA gather’d kindred lies.We stand beneath the haunted yew,And watch each quiet tomb,And in the ancient churchyard feelSolemnity, not gloom!
“The place is purified with hope—The hope, that is, of prayer;And human love, and heavenward thought,And pious faith, are there!The wild flowers spring amid the grass,And many a stone appearsCarved by affection’s memory,Wet with affection’s tears.
“The golden chord which binds us allIs loosed, not rent in twain;And love, and hope, and fear, uniteTo bring the past again.Butthisgrave 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 hearthIs weeping for him now?
“Perhaps this is too fanciful,Though single be his sod,Yet not the less it has aroundThe presence of his God!It may be weakness of the heart,But yet its kindliest, best;Better if in our selfish worldIt could be less repress’d.
“Those gentler charities which drawMan closer with his kind,Those sweet humilities which makeThe 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 tiesWhich sanctify the grave.”
Now (1860) the grave-stone has received two additional inscriptions, and the character of the upright stone has been altered.
Reeve’s GraveCorpe was a ladies’ shoemaker, and his son carried on that business at No. 126 Mount Street, Berkeley Square, after the father’s death. While sketching the grave, the sexton came up, and observed, “No one has ever noticed that grave, sir, before, so much as to draw it out for a pattern, as I suppose you are doing.”
John Reeve’s grave (“alas, poor Yorick!”) is in the first avenue at the back of the church, to the left hand, and immediately at the edge of the path that runs parallel with the north side of the building. The stone, which is similar to others in the same vicinity, is inscribed:—
in memoryofiohn reeve esq.late of thetheatre royal adelphi.obiit january. 24th. 1838.also ofiohn reeve esq.uncle of the aboveobiit jany.22nd. 1831aged71.
in memoryofiohn reeve esq.late of thetheatre royal adelphi.obiit january. 24th. 1838.
also ofiohn reeve esq.uncle of the aboveobiit jany.22nd. 1831aged71.
In the central path, leading from the Church Tower, is the grave of Harriet Elizabeth Farren, who died 16th ofJune, 1857, aged 68. She made her first appearance in London in 1813, as Desdemona.
Bell and Horns signClose to Brompton New Church, at a public-house called the Bell and Horns,[58]the road branches off again; that branch which goes straight forward leading to Old Brompton, Earl’s Court, Kensington, and North End, Fulham. The turn to the left, or bend to the south, being the main Fulham Road. Here, till within the last few years, was standing the stump of an old tree, shown in the accompanying sketch.StumpA cluster of trees at the commencement of the Old Brompton Road have also been removed, and the road has been considerably widened. On the right-hand side, adjoining Brompton New Church, is the Oratory of St. Philip Neri, a Roman Catholic Establishment of considerable extent, which stands on the ground once occupied by Mr. Pollard’s school. It was opened on 22nd March, 1851, and was originally located in King William Street, Strand. It is bounded on the east by the avenue of lime trees leading up to Holy Trinity Church, on the north by its cemetery, on the west by the South Kensington Museum, and on the south by the road, which has been widened by the commissioners to eighty feet. The superior inLondon is the Rev. F. W. Faber, and at Birmingham, the Rev. J. H. Newman, D.D. The building, which does not show its size to advantage from the road, is erected in the shape of the letter T. Some idea of the scale on which the building is executed may be gathered from the following dimensions. The oratory 72 feet long, 30 wide, 29 high. The library 72 feet long, 30 wide, 23 high. The refectory 50 feet long, 30 wide, 28 high. The corridors of the house 164 feet long, 9 wide, 14 high. The architect is Mr. Scoles. Next to the oratory is the South Kensington Museum, which was built upon the Kensington Gore estate,Oratory and Museumpurchased by the Royal Commissioners with the surplus funds derived from the Exhibition of 1851. It was opened on the 24th June, 1857, and is a result of the School of Design, founded at Somerset House in 1838. It is the head-quarters of the Government Department of Science and Art, previously deposited in Marlborough House, which is under the managementof Mr. Henry Cole. The collections are temporarily placed in a range of boiler-roofed buildings, hence the term “Brompton boilers” has been applied to them. There are specimens here of ornamental art, an architectural, trade, and economical museum; a court of modern sculpture, and the gallery of British Art, founded on the munificent gift of Mr. John Sheepshanks. Mr. Sheepshanks having bestowed on the nation a collection of 234 oil paintings, mostly by modern British artists, and some drawings, etc., the whole formed by himself, including some of the most popular works of Wilkie, Mulready, Sir Edwin Landseer, Leslie, and other eminent artists of the English school. To these have been since added, in several large rooms, the Turner Collection, and the pictures from the Vernon Gallery; also the collection bequeathed to the nation by the late Mr. Jacob Bell, and the pictures by British artists removed from the National Gallery; all which are well lighted from the roof. The objects of ornamental art consist of medieval furniture and decoration, painted glass, plaster casts, electrotype copies, photographs, engravings, and drawings, etc., the whole designed with the view of aiding general education, and of diffusing among all classes those principles of science and art which are calculated to advance the individual interests of the country, and to elevate the character of the people: facilities are afforded for taking copies of objects upon application at the Art Library. The Educational collections formed by the Government, which are in the central portion of the building, comprise specimens of scientific instruments, objects of natural history, models, casts, and alibrary; refreshment and waiting rooms are provided; and there are lectures 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, and Saturday, also on Monday and Tuesday evening, from seven till ten, when the galleries are lighted; on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, being students’ days, the admission is 6d.
In form the building is rectangular, the centre or nave is 42 feet wide, and is open from the floor to the roof. Along the aisles galleries run, access to which is obtained by two large central staircases at the ends of the building, which is for the most part lighted from the roofs. There is ample ventilation, and by means of hot water pipes, the building is heated when required. The exhibition space in floor and galleries is nearly one acre and a half, exclusive of the wall space in the galleries and aisles. The arrangement, it may be seen from this description, is much the same as that adopted in the Great Exhibition of 1851. There are separate catalogues for each department to be had, which give the visitor all necessary information. The building was constructed from designs and drawings prepared by Messrs. Charles D. Young and Co. of Great George Street, Westminster. Opposite the Museum is Thurloe Place. No. 1 may be mentioned as the residence of Mr. Henry Holl, well known some years ago as the light comedian of the Haymarket Theatre. That gentleman has now retired from the profession, but in addition to some dramatic productions written many years since, he is the author of two or three successful pieces recently produced. It is not the intentionof the writer to follow the course of the Old Brompton Road, but he will at once return to the main road after alluding to the newly-formed magnificent approaches from this point to Kensington, by Exhibition Road and Prince Albert’s Road, on the site of Brompton Park, now broken up.[62]A winter garden is in course of formation here, and the Horticultural Society intend to appropriate part of the ground for their annual fêtes. The total amount expended on the purchase and laying out of the Kensington Gore Estate from 1851 to 1856 inclusive, was £277,309.
from the bell and horns,brompton,to little chelsea.
To return to the continuation ofMichael’s Place. It is divided between Nos. 11 and 12 byMichael’s Grove, which led to Brompton Grange, for some years the seat of the favourite veteran vocalist, Braham, who made his appearance as a public singer at the age of ten years, and so far back as 1787. The Grange was taken down in October 1843, and, in the course of twelve months, its spacious grounds were covered by a decided crescent and other buildings. Brompton Grange, which was constructed by Novosielski for his own residence, was, previous to Mr. Braham’s tenancy, occupied by a gentleman of large fortune and weak nerves, which were most painfully affected by the tone of a bell. After considerable research, this spot was selected for his London residence, in the belief that there he would be secure from annoyance. But the folly of human anticipation was speedily illustrated by the building of Brompton Church on the north side of his abode, and of Chelsea New Church on the west; so that, whatever way the wind blew,
“The sound of the church-going bell”
“The sound of the church-going bell”
was certain of being wafted to the Grange, which was got rid of in consequence.
From Michael’s Grove,Brompton Crescentis nearly a straight row of twenty-five houses, and forms an angle to the line of the main Fulham Road, uniting with Michael’s Place at “Crescent House,” where the carriage communication was formerly interrupted by a bar, in place of which a post supporting two lamps is now substituted.
No. 9 was for some time in the occupation of Dr. Oswald Wood, the translator (1835) of Von Hammer’s ‘History of the Assassins,’ and who died at the early age of thirty-eight, on the 5th of November, 1842, in the West Indies, where he held the appointment of Provost-Marshal of Antigua.
At No. 13 Brompton Crescent resided Charles Incledon, the rival of his neighbour Braham, whose singing he was wont to designate as “Italianised humbug;” declaring that no one but himself, Charles Incledon, knew how to sing a British ballad: and it must be admitted, that “The Storm” and “Black-eyed Susan,” as sung by Incledon, produced a deep impression on the public mind. He was a native of Cornwall, and the son of a medical gentleman. As a chorister, under the tuition of Jackson, in Exeter Cathedral, Incledon acquired his knowledge of music; for when he was fifteen he entered the Royal Navy, in which he served in the West Indies from 1779 to 1783, when he abandoned the naval profession, and joined a theatrical company at Southampton. After a popular professional 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, chieflycaused by his inordinate vanity, and his mental singleness of purpose. He thought of no one but himself; he saw nothing beyond the one and immediate object at which he grasped; and yet these faults were caused rather by natural weakness of intellect than by an unkind or selfish disposition. In fact, Incledon lived and died a petted servant of the public; which administered intoxicating draughts of applause to his self-esteem.
Mr. G. Rodwell, already mentioned as having been an inhabitant of No. 14 Brompton Row, resided at No. 15 Brompton Crescent, in 1830.
No. 20 Brompton Crescent was, between the years 1822 and 1844, occupied by Mr. Planché, well known as, perhaps, the most prolific and skilful dramatic writer of the day, and as a gentleman of high literary and antiquarian attainments. His connexion with the last musical efforts of the German composer Weber, in his opera of ‘Oberon,’ which was produced at Covent Garden on the 12th of May, 1826,[65]cannot be forgotten; and to Planché’s knowledge of costume and taste for pictorial effects the English stage is deeply indebted. In the drawing-room of this house have some of our most agreeable acting dramas been composed, and nothing could have been, in its style and appointments, more typical of Planché’s dialogue than was the apartment—smart and neat, fit for all occasions, and suited in a moment to the present purpose, whatever that might be. It was polished and elegant; but there was nothing superfluous, beyond a bit of exquisite china on themantel-piece, or a picture, excellent in its way, on the wall; something which pleased the eye, and which the mind received and relished like a nicely-pointed joke. A well-painted portrait of Planché himself, by Briggs, the Royal Academician, which has been engraved, hung opposite to the fireplace; and, as if to carry out the similitude between Planché’s writings and the place where they were written, folding-doors revealed a back drawing-room, which, like his memory, was richly stored with the works of heralds and antiquaries, and of our elder dramatists and poets, so judiciously arranged, that in a moment he was certain of producing the precise passage or the effect which he desired. At the same time so completely was this little battery of knowledge masked under quaint bindings and tasteful covers, that no one suspected what a mine of learning lay beneath; nor, like his own mental resources, was a volume displayed without cause, or unclasped without its effect.
Speaking earnestly to Planché respecting the pains and pleasures of authorship, L. E. L. once said, “I would give this moment all the fame of what I have written, or ever shall write, for one roar of applause from a crowded house, such as you must have heard a thousand times.”
Mr. Planché afterwards removed to a new and detached house, built on the site of Brompton Grange. He has now quitted the neighbourhood.
Mr. C. J. Richardson, an architect, whose publications illustrative of Tudor architecture and domestic English antiquities have materially tended to diffuse a feeling of respect for the works of our ancestors, and to forward the growing desire to preserve and restore edifices which timeand circumstances have spared to the country, has resided at No. 22 Brompton Crescent. At No. 28 in this crescent, Mrs. Liston died in 1854.
The continuation ofMichael’s Place, which we left on our right to visit Michael’s Grove and Brompton Crescent, is the corner house, now Dr. Cahill’s and Mr. Hewett’s. At No. 12, Lewis Schiavonetti, 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 gladly accept the offer of Julius Golini, a painter of some repute, to receive his son, at the age of thirteen, for instruction in the arts.No. 12 Michael’s PlaceIn three years after, Golini expired in the arms of his youthful pupil. Upon the death of his master he determined to seek the patronage of Count Remaudini, who had given employment to Bartolozzi and Volpato, and began to study the mechanical process of engraving, under a poor man named Lorio, who, unable to support himself by his profession, officiated as sacristan to a church, and could offer him no better accommodation for study than the sacristy. The circumstances of Schiavonetti not permitting him to seek for higher instruction, heremained with this master about twelve months, when, finding that he had learned all that poor Lorio was able to teach, and feeling an aversion to work occasionally among dead bodies, he determined to alter his situation. A copy of a ‘Holy Family,’ from Bartolozzi, after Carlo Maratta, gained Schiavonetti immediate employment from Count Remaudini, and attracted the notice of Suntach, an engraver and printseller in opposition to Remaudini.
About this time there came to Bassano a Mr. Testolini, of Vicenza, a wretched engraver of architecture, but a man of consummate craft and address. He became acquainted with Schiavonetti at Suntach’s, and, finding in his genius and tractable disposition, a tool which he could use to great advantage, he engaged him to work at his house. Bartolozzi’s engravings in the chalk manner were then in great repute at Bassano, and Testolini made several abortive attempts to discover the process. His young friend succeeded better, and imitated several of Bartolozzi’s prints to perfection; and Testolini took some of Schiavonetti’s productions to the son of Bartolozzi at Venice, and passed them off as his own. They gained him an introduction to that artist, and an invitation to London, where he was then in full occupation, and his works highly appreciated. The change of climate seems to have deteriorated the talents of Testolini; but such was his adroitness that he gained a complete ascendancy over the easy temper of Bartolozzi, and lived in his house at North End, Fulham, about three years. During that time, finding that yet more important advantages might be derived from the aid of his former friend, he made several propositions to Schiavonetti to cometo London. These were for a time declined: the rising fame of the young artist caused his talents to be better appreciated, and some Venetian noblemen offered him a pension and constant employment if he would abandon his proposed emigration. Testolini, to frustrate this, induced Bartolozzi to write a letter of persuasion, partly dictated by himself; and, confident of its effect, he set out for Italy to bring Schiavonetti over. During his absence Bartolozzi gained an insight into his real character and interested views, and, on his return with hisprotégé, told him that his house was no longer open to him, but that Schiavonetti was welcome to consider it his home. Testolini, however, having found a house in Sloane Square, soon persuaded Schiavonetti that it would be better for him to follow his fortune than to remain with Bartolozzi, to which Schiavonetti consented. This circumstance terminated the connexion between Bartolozzi and Schiavonetti; and shortly after the reputation of the latter as an engraver became established in London, where he conducted every transaction he was engaged in with an uprightness and integrity that cause his memory to be equally respected as a gentleman and as an artist. The ‘Madre Dolorosa,’ after Vandyke; the portrait of that master in the 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 of Blair’s ‘Grave,’ with a portrait of Blake after Phillips; the ‘Landing of the British troops in Egypt,’ from De Loutherbourg; and the etching of the ‘Canterbury Pilgrims,’ from Stothard’s admired picture, are some of the most esteemed works of Lewis Schiavonetti.His funeral, which took place on the 14th June 1810, from Michael’s Place, was attended by West, the president, Phillips, Tresham, and other members of the Royal Academy, by his countryman Vendramini, and almost all the distinguished engravers of the day, with other artists and friends to art.
The greater portion of No. 13, Michael’s Place, is shown in the sketch of No. 12, and the former may be mentioned as the residence of the widow of the builder, Madame Novosielski, who died here on the 30th November, 1820. This was the address of Miss Helen Faucit, immediately previous to her successful appearance in the English drama before a French audience, and is at present in the occupation of Mr. Weigall, an artist whose works are highly prized.
Mrs. Billington, the well-known singer and actress, has resided at No. 15.
Miss Pope, an actress of considerable reputation, died at No. 17, Michael’s Place, on the 30th July, 1818, aged seventy-five. Her talents had been cultivated by the celebrated Mrs. Clive, and she was distinguished by the notice of Garrick. As a representative of old women, Miss Pope is said to have been unrivalled; and, for more than half a century, she remained constant to the boards of Drury Lane Theatre, never having performed at any other with the exception of a season at Dublin and another at Liverpool.
Mr. John Heneage Jesse, in 1842, while engaged in the publication of ‘Memoirs of the Court of England, from the Revolution of 1688 to the Death of George II.,’ 3 vols. 8vo, a continuation of his ‘History of the Courtof England during the Reign of the Stuarts,’ lodged at No. 18.
Mr. Yates, the manager of the Adelphi Theatre, and an actor of considerable and varied powers, resided at No. 21, Michael’s Place, immediately previous to his accepting a short engagement in Ireland, where he ruptured a blood-vessel, and returned to England in so weak a state that he died on the 21st June, 1842, a few days after his arrival at the Euston Hotel, Euston Square, from whence it was considered, when he reached London, imprudent to remove him to Brompton. He was in the forty-fifth year of his age, and made his first appearance in London at Covent Garden on the 7th November, 1818. On the 30th November, 1823, Mr. Yates married Miss Brunton, an exemplary woman and an accomplished actress, who had retired from the profession for some years previous to her death, aged 61, on 30th August, 1860. Before Mr. Yates’ tenancy, No. 21 was the residence of Mr. Liston, whose comic humour will long be remembered on the stage.
Mrs. Davenport, a clever actress and an admirable representative of old women, died at No. 22, on 8th May, 1843, aged eighty-four. On the 25th of May, 1830, she retired from the stage, after an uninterrupted service of thirty-six years 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 house in which Miss Pope, “the other delicious old woman,” dwelt previous to her removal to No. 17; and No. 26, as the lodgings of Mrs. Mathews, when occupied in thecomposition of the ‘Memoirs’ of her husband,[72]the eminent comedian,—
“A man so various, that he seemed to be,Not one, but all mankind’s epitome.”
At No. 33 died Madame Delille, in 1857, at an advanced age. This lady was the mother of the late Mr. C. J. Delille, professor of the French language in Christ’s Hospital and in the City of London School, and French examiner in the University of London. Mr. Delille’s French Grammar is universally adopted by schools, in addition to his ‘Répertoire Littéraire,’ and his ‘Leçons et Modèles de Poésie Française.’
The ground upon which Michael’s Place and Brompton Crescent are built was known by the name of “Flounder Field,” from its usual moist and muddy state. This field contained fourteen acres, and is said to have been part of the estate of Alderman Henry Smith, which in this neighbourhood was upwards of eighty-four acres. He was a native of Wandsworth, where he is buried. It has been asserted that, from very humble circumstances, he rose to be an alderman of London—from circumstances so humble, indeed, that Salmon, in his ‘Antiquities of Surrey,’ mentions that he had been in early life whipped out of Mitcham parish for begging there. Being a widower, and without children, he made over all 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 to have been to divide his estate equally between the poorest of his kindred, and in caseof any surplus it was to be applied to the relief and ransom of poor captives. Mr. Smith is said, but we know little of the history of this benevolent and extraordinary man, to have himself suffered a long captivity in Algiers. No application having been made for many years to redeem captives, in 1772 an act of parliament was passed “to enable the trustees of Henry Smith, Esq., deceased, to apply certain sums of money to the relief of his poor kindred, and to enable the said trustees to grant building leases of an estate in the parishes of Kensington, Chelsea, and St. Margaret’s, Westminster.”
No. 1, North Terrace, leading into Alexander Square, was for some time the residence of the celebrated “O.” Smith, who, though a great ruffian upon the stage, was in private life remarkable for his quiet manners and his varied attainments. At the end of this terrace is the Western Grammar School.
Alexander Square, on the north or right-hand side of the main Fulham Road, between the Bell and Horns public-house and Pelham Crescent, consists of twenty-four houses built in the years 1827 and 1830, and divided by Alfred Place: before each portion there is a respectable enclosure, and behind numerous new streets, squares, and houses have been built, extending to the Old Brompton Road.
No. 19, Alexander Square, was the residence of Captain Glascock, who commanded H.M.S. Tyne, and whose pen has enriched the nautical novel literature of England[73]with the same racy humour which has distinguished hisprofessional career. When commanding in the Douro, some communications which Glascock had occasion to make to the Governor of Oporto not having received that attention which the English captain considered was due to them, and the governor having apologised for his deafness, Glascock replied that in future he would write to his excellency. He did so, but the proceeding did not produce the required reply. Glascock was then told that the governor’s memory was defective; so he wrote again, and two letters remained unanswered. In this state of things it was intimated to Captain Glascock by a distinguished diplomatist, that, as his letters might not have been delivered, he ought to write another. “Certainly,” replied that officer; “my letters to his excellency, as you say, might not have been delivered, for I have had no report absolutely made to me that they had ever reached his hands: but I will take care this time there shall be no mistake in the delivery, for you shall see me attach my communication to a cannonball, the report of which I can testify to my government; and, as my gunner is a sure shot, his excellencywill(Glascock was an Irishman) have my epistle delivered into his hand.” This intimation produced at once the desired effect of a satisfactory reply and apology.
Captain Glascock was one of the inspectors under the Poor Relief 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 honorary secretaries of the Art Union,—an association which has exercised an important influence upon the progress of the fine arts in England. Mr. Godwin is likewisefavourably known to the public as the author of several essays which evince considerable professional knowledge, antiquarian research, and a fertile fancy.
The bend of the Fulham Road terminates at
The Admiral Keppel
The old Admiral Keppelpublic-house, from whence the road proceeds in a straight line to Little Chelsea; Marlborough Road and Keppel Street, leading to Chelsea, branching off at each side of the tavern. Since this sketch was taken, the old building has been pulled down (1856), and a large hotel erected on the same spot, by B. Watts, where, in addition to the usual comforts of an inn, hot and cold baths may be had.
In 1818 the Admiral Keppel courted the custom of passing travellers by a poetical appeal to the feelings of both man and beast:—
“Stop, brave boys, and quench your thirst;If you won’t drink, your horses murst.”
There was something rural in this: the distich was painted in very rude white letters on a small black board; and when Keppel’s portrait, which swung in air, like England’s flag, braving
“The battle and the breeze,”
“The battle and the breeze,”
was unhinged and placed against the front of the house, this board was appended as its motto. Both, however, were displaced by the march of public-house improvement; the weather-beaten sign of the gallant admiral’s head was transferred to a wall of the back premises, where its “faded form” might, until recently, have been recognised; but, though the legible record has perished,opus vatum durat.
Amelia Placeis a row of nine houses immediately beyond the Admiral Keppel. Within the walls of the last low house in the row, and the second with a verandah, the Right Hon. John Philpot Curran died on the 14th of October, 1817. It had then a pleasant look-out upon green fields and a nursery-garden, now occupied by Pelham Crescent. Here it was, with the exception of a short excursion to Ireland, that Curran had resided during the twelve months previous to his death.No. 7 Amelia PlaceCurran’s public life may be said to have terminated in 1806, when he accepted the office of Master of the Rolls in Ireland, an appointment of £5000 a year. This situation he retained until 1815, when his health required a cessation from its laborious attendance. Upon his retirement from office, he “passed through the watering-places with theseason,” and then fixed himself at No. 7, Amelia Place, Brompton, which house has now Kettle’s boot and shoe warehouse built out in front. To no other contemporary pen than that of the Rev. George Croly can be ascribed the following glowing sketch of Curran:—
“From the period in which Curran emerged from the first struggles of an unfriended man, labouring up a jealous profession, his history makes a part of the annals of his country: once upon the surface, his light was always before the eye, it never sank and was never outshone. With great powers to lift himself beyond the reach of that tumultuous and stormy agitation that must involve the movers of the public mind in a country such as Ireland then was, he loved to cling to the heavings of the wave; he, at least, never rose to that tranquil elevation to which his early contemporaries had one by one climbed; and never left the struggle till the storm had gone down, it is to be hoped for ever. This was his destiny, but it 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 the throne. To his habits legal distinction would have been only a bounty upon his silence; his limbs would have been fettered by the ermine; but he had the compensation of boundless popular honour, much respect from the higher ranks of party, much admiration and much fear from the lower partizans. In Parliament he was the assailant most dreaded; in the law-courts he was the advocate deemed the most essential; in both he was an object of all the more powerful passions of man but rivalry,—‘He stood alone and shone alone.’”
“From the period in which Curran emerged from the first struggles of an unfriended man, labouring up a jealous profession, his history makes a part of the annals of his country: once upon the surface, his light was always before the eye, it never sank and was never outshone. With great powers to lift himself beyond the reach of that tumultuous and stormy agitation that must involve the movers of the public mind in a country such as Ireland then was, he loved to cling to the heavings of the wave; he, at least, never rose to that tranquil elevation to which his early contemporaries had one by one climbed; and never left the struggle till the storm had gone down, it is to be hoped for ever. This was his destiny, but it 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 the throne. To his habits legal distinction would have been only a bounty upon his silence; his limbs would have been fettered by the ermine; but he had the compensation of boundless popular honour, much respect from the higher ranks of party, much admiration and much fear from the lower partizans. In Parliament he was the assailant most dreaded; in the law-courts he was the advocate deemed the most essential; in both he was an object of all the more powerful passions of man but rivalry,—
‘He stood alone and shone alone.’”
During Curran’s residence in Amelia Place he suffered two slight apoplectic attacks; but he, nevertheless, “occasionally indulged in society, and was to his last sparkle the most interesting, singular, and delightful of all table companions.” The forenoon he generally passed in a solitary ramble through the neighbouring fields and gardens (which have now disappeared), and in the evening he enjoyed theconversation of a few friends; but, though the brilliancy of his wit shone to the last, he seemed like one who had outlived everything in life that was worth enjoying. This is exemplified in Curran’s melancholy repartee to his medical attendant a few days before his decease. The doctor remarked that his patient’s cough was not improved. “That is odd,” remarked Curran, “for I have been practising all night!”
On Thursday, the 9th of October, Curran dined abroad for the last time with Mr. Richard (“Gentleman”) Jones,[78]of No. 14 Chapel Street, Grosvenor Place, for the purpose of being introduced to George Colman “the Younger.” The party, besides the host and hostess, consisted of Mr. Harris and Sir William Chatterton. Colman that evening was unusually brilliant, anticipating, by apt quotation and pointed remark, almost everything that Curran would have said. One comment of Curran’s, however, made a deep impression on all present. Speaking of Lord Byron’s ‘Fare thee well, and if for ever,’ he observed that “his lordship first weeps over his wife, and then wipes his eyes with the newspapers.” He left the dinner-table early, and, on going upstairs to coffee, either affected not to know or did not remember George Colman’s celebrity as a wit, and inquired of Mrs. Jones who that Mr. Colman was? Mr. Harris joined them at this moment, and apologised for his friend Colman engrossing so much of the conversation to himself, adding, that he was the spoiled child of society, and that even the Prince Regent listened with attention when George Colman talked. “Ay,” said Curran, with amelancholy smile, “I now know who Colman is; we must both sleep in the same bed.”
The next morning Curran was seized with apoplexy, and continued speechless, though in possession of his senses, till the 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 were unable to mark the precise time when his bright spirit passed away from this earth. His age has been variously stated at sixty-seven, sixty-eight, and seventy.
The first lodging which John Banim, the Irish novelist, temporarily occupied in England (April, 1822) was in the house where his illustrious countryman had breathed his last, and from whence Banim removed to 13, Brompton Grove, as already noticed. Banim’s first wish, when he found himself in England, was to visit the scene of Curran’s death; led to the spot by a strong feeling of patriotic admiration, and finding, by a bill in the window, that lodgings were to be let there, he immediately took them, “that he might dream of his country,” as he energetically told the writer, “with the halo of Curran’s memory around him.”
Dropped Capitals for InPelham Crescent, which consists of twenty-seven houses, and is divided in the centre, between Nos. 14 and 15, by Pelham Place, both Crescent and Place built upon part of the nursery-grounds over which Curran had wandered, dwell at No. 10 Mr. and Mrs. Keeley. At No. 20 resides Mr. John Cooper the well-known veteran actor. M. Guizot, the celebrated Frenchstatesman, after the overthrow of the government of Louis Philippe, resided for some time at No. 21, where Madame Guizot, his mother, died in March, 1848, at the advanced age of eighty-three; and the same house was, by a singular 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 at No. 8 resides Mr. A. Harris, the present lessee of the Princess’s Theatre.
Nearly opposite to Pelham Crescent isPond Place, where Mr. Curtis, the eminent botanist, of whom more hereafter, died on the 7th July, 1799; and a little further on, on the same side of the way, appears Chelsea New Church, dedicated to St. Luke.