The house belonging to this garden stood till about 1826. For many years it was the residence of a Dr. C. Kelly, who here had an anatomical museum. He resided here in 1773, and quitted it about 1805. The house was afterwards tenanted by a gentleman named Bowes; and the museum became the auction-room of Mr. Herring. About 1818, Warren, builder to George III., took the premises; he turned the whole into workshops. After himcame Mr. Cubitt, who, about 1828, procuring a lease from Mr. Lowndes, pulled the whole down, and laid out the ground for buildings. The first houses were erected about 1836–7, but it was not till 1849 that the square was wholly completed.
Various relics of the Civil War have been found on this site: arms, spurs, bits, cockades, &c.; and relics telling of a different kind of struggle—staves and handcuffs, evidences of successful rencontres between the footpad and the constable. A path by the stream’s side ran along to Bloody Bridge, proceeding thence to Ranelagh. On grand gala nights such paths were protected by patrols and the more able of the Chelsea Pensioners.
Among the eminent inhabitants of Lowndes Square may be enumerated the late Sir William Molesworth and Mr. Leader, M.P. for Westminster, at No. 1; Mr. M. J. Higgins, celebrated for his contributions on military matters to theTimes, also lived at No. 1. He is thus delineated by Mrs. Gascoigne in her poem, “Belgravia:”—
“Nor whilst my muse still haunts these favourite bounds,Shall she forget to sing thy Square, O Lowndes!Harbour of peace, near which the troubled seaOf human traffic roars unceasingly,Yet enters not—though day by day it swellsFiercer and fiercer; at the opening dwellsA man whom rage and clamour ne’er withstood,The well-known champion of the neighbourhood!Him all who seek oppression view with fear,For sharp his wit, his mind acute and clear!With subtlest force, he wields the powerful pen.But aims it at abuses, not at men!Him Vestries know, and Rate Collectors dread,For cool his spirit—hard his reasoning head;And though a giant in his strength he be,Yet free from Tyrant’s love of rule is he;And whilst men seek, and to his judgment bend,They find in him a leader and a friend.”[154]
“Nor whilst my muse still haunts these favourite bounds,Shall she forget to sing thy Square, O Lowndes!Harbour of peace, near which the troubled seaOf human traffic roars unceasingly,Yet enters not—though day by day it swellsFiercer and fiercer; at the opening dwellsA man whom rage and clamour ne’er withstood,The well-known champion of the neighbourhood!Him all who seek oppression view with fear,For sharp his wit, his mind acute and clear!With subtlest force, he wields the powerful pen.But aims it at abuses, not at men!Him Vestries know, and Rate Collectors dread,For cool his spirit—hard his reasoning head;And though a giant in his strength he be,Yet free from Tyrant’s love of rule is he;And whilst men seek, and to his judgment bend,They find in him a leader and a friend.”[154]
Mrs. Gascoigne, author of “Belgravia,” “Spencer’s Cross Manor House,” “The Next Door Neighbours,” and other works, resides at No. 14. Admiral Sotheby, one who fought at the Nile, lived at No. 38, and died January, 20th, 1854. Sir Henry Campbell, who died in 1856, Sir Willoughby Cotton, Mr. Tite, M.P., Mr. Brassey, the extensive contractor, Mr. Whiteside, M.P., Mr. R. B. Wingfield, and Mr. Malins, M.P., number also among the inhabitants of Lowndes Square.
The row of houses on the south side was designed by Mr. Lewis Cubitt, and with greaterregard to architectural effect than anything of its kind then in the metropolis. It was built in 1843.
Lowndes Terrace—A row of shops between William Street and Sloane Street, occupying the site of a row of old-fashioned houses, of two storeys high, with pleasant gardens in front and rear, giving the roadway quite a rural appearance. The house at the eastern end belonged to one Banting, who built some projecting shops over the front gardens in 1815, and named the row Waterloo Market. His expectations were not realised; and in 1823 these old premises were removed, and the present houses erected. There were but six houses. At No. 5 resided, fifty years ago, Andrews, an artist of some repute in his day; and at No. 6 for some years lived the mother of Rodwell, the author and composer; and her son’s early years were partly passed at this pleasant spot.
At the west end of this row a narrow lane, called Porter’s Lane, led to the fields. On its right-hand side, and divided from it by a hedge, stood a large detached mansion, known asKnightsbridge Grove, approached through a fine avenue of stately trees from the highway. For many years a man named Hicks, a “sporting character,” kept the place, and George IV., when Prince of Wales, and others of similar tastes, were led hither. Mr. Egg, the gunmaker, once erected a large wooden building for some balloon experiments in the grounds. And this was, I believe, the house where the notorious Teresa Cornellys attempted to recover her bygone reputation.
Teresa Cornellys was a native of Germany; and early showing an inclination to music, was brought up to it as a profession, and soon became celebrated on the Continent as a public singer. Having accumulated a considerable sum of money, she came to England, about 1757; and her fame gradually becoming known, she was induced, in 1763, to open Carlisle House, Soho Square, as a place of public entertainment. None but the upper classes were admitted, and the rooms were decorated in the most costly manner. Her balls, concerts, and masquerades soon gained great celebrity, being carried on in a most glaring and extravagantstyle. And this was not all: her masquerades were characterised, not only by indecency, but also by mockery of the most solemn feelings and principles.[157a]The lessees of the theatres were injured by her popularity, and stimulated the outcry which began to arise; and at length she was convicted before Sir John Fielding for performing dramatic entertainments without a licence. The opposition of the managers, and the Pantheon opening with a class of amusements somewhat similar in 1772, with the restraint imposed by the magistrate’s decision, combined to ruin her; and in August, 1772, her effects were sold by auction, and she became a bankrupt.[157b]
The allusions to Mrs. Cornellys in contemporary literature are innumerable; Murphy, in his Epilogue toZobeide, 1771, refers to her popularity:—
“Oh, farewell!For her each haunt that charms a modern belle!Adieu, Almack’s! Cornellys’! masquerade!Sweet Ranelagh! Vauxhall’s enchanting shade!” &c.
“Oh, farewell!For her each haunt that charms a modern belle!Adieu, Almack’s! Cornellys’! masquerade!Sweet Ranelagh! Vauxhall’s enchanting shade!” &c.
This allusion will suffice for one view of her career. The opposite is severely described by Combe, in his satire “The Diabolady,” published in 1777:—
“The ready ministers of hell’s commands,Obedient fly, and take their several standsAt Court, Cornellys’, and the Coterie;Where vice, more vicious by effrontery,Fearless, unblushing, braves the eternal lawsOf God and man to aid the devil’s cause.”
“The ready ministers of hell’s commands,Obedient fly, and take their several standsAt Court, Cornellys’, and the Coterie;Where vice, more vicious by effrontery,Fearless, unblushing, braves the eternal lawsOf God and man to aid the devil’s cause.”
After her bankruptcy she followed her profession for several years at various places in London, but in 1785 was obliged to retire from the importunities of her creditors. Ten years after, to the great surprise of the public, she reappeared at Knightsbridge as Mrs. Smith, a retailer of asses’ milk. A suite of breakfast-rooms was opened; but her former influence could not be recovered. The speculation utterly failed; and at length she was consigned to the Fleet Prison. There she ended her shallow career, dying August 19, 1797.
Immediately beyond the entrance to the Grove stood Messrs. Downing’s floor-cloth manufactory, formerly Morley and Downing’s. It was a pleasant detached house, with a cleanwhite front, and conspicuous green verandahs. It was pulled down in 1823, and the manufacturing department removed to the King’s Road.
Montpelier Square, so called from the salubrity of its air,[159]was built about 1837. Mr. Fairholt, the distinguished artist and antiquary (at No. 10), Mr. Walter Lacy (38), Dr. Morison (27), and the Rev. Mackenzie Walcot, to whose writings on the city of Westminster I owe several obligations, are among its residents.
New Street, built, I believe, about 1773, was a new street across the fields to Sloane Street, and is the point dividing Knightsbridge and Brompton—formerly, according to the landladies, a very “respectable” street; it has in our day sadly changed. At No. 7, Chalon, the animal painter, resided; and at No. 6, the Right Hon. David Pigott in 1824 and ’25, while studying under Mr., afterwards Chief Justice, Tindal. Mr. Godwin, the editor of theBuilder, also in his boyhood. In Exeter Street resided a family named Perrin, one of whom it has been said was employed by the Duchess ofKingston to furnish a place of meeting between Prince George, afterwards George III., and his fairinamorata, Hannah Lightfoot.[160]The Perrins appear to have long resided in Knightsbridge; entries of the name occur in the registers of Trinity Chapel as far back as 1680.
Park Side, abutting on the south side of Hyde Park, is a part of the manor of Knightsbridge, although eastward of the stream, and is the freehold of the Dean and Chapter of Westminster. The Birkheads were once the lessees; at present it is rented by the descendants of Mr. Gamble, of Trinity Chapel. The row of petty shops at its east end were erected about fifty years since, the houses formerly extending no further than the one now occupied by Miss Marshall. The Knightsbridge Bank, a private concern, was carried on in Mr. W. Stocken’s house, and these shops were offices belonging thereto.
Just within the park is a conduit, which supplies the palace with spring water; a descent of three steps in the main road led to a receptacle for its supply to the inhabitants of Knightsbridge,which still exists in another form. Close to this “spring,” as it is termed, the stocks were placed for the punishment of village sots and rogues. No hamlet around the “great wen,” as Cobbett called the metropolis, was without one. Taylor, the water-poet, says—
“In London, and within a mile, I ween,There are of jails or prisons full eighteen,And sixty whipping-posts, and stocks, and cages!”[161a]
“In London, and within a mile, I ween,There are of jails or prisons full eighteen,And sixty whipping-posts, and stocks, and cages!”[161a]
At No. 10 resided for many years John Read, a man of great benevolence of character, of scientific celebrity, and of high repute in the locality. He was born in 1726, and being brought up as a mathematical instrument-maker, settled in Knightsbridge about 1754. He became known for his researches into electricity,[161b]and published, in 1793, an octavo volume, entitled “A Summary View of the Spontaneous Electricity of the Earth and Atmosphere,” an accurate and judicious work; but it led him into a controversy with Dr. Peart, a writer on the same subject. He also studied meteorology,and a journal on that subject he contributed to the “Philosophical Transactions.”
Other points of his history are told on the stone to his memory in St. George’s Ground, Bayswater, where he was buried. The inscription I subjoin:—
Sacrum MemoriæofMr. John Read,Mathematical Instrument Maker,a Native ofWhalley in Lancashire,who died atKnightsbridge(where he had resided nearly sixty years)on the 22nd day of September, 1814,in the 88th year of his Age.Without Patron, or Patrimony, by the honest fruits of Industry, he laid the foundation of an easy competence. More indebted to Prudence than Fortune for his acquisitions; but to Temperance alone for his length of days. A deep Researcher of the latent causes of Nature’s Phenomena; her vital Principle, he held in obedience, while he enriched the science of Electricity with his experiments. Pleased in the pursuit of Knowledge, and happy in the practice of Virtue; He was a Philosopher with a benevolent heart, the Father of the Knightsbridge Charity School; of the Free School of his native place the Revivor. He lived an Example worthy of imitation, and died without a groan.Thus lived John Read, and so his spirit fledAnd here his ashes mingle with the Dead.
Sacrum MemoriæofMr. John Read,Mathematical Instrument Maker,a Native ofWhalley in Lancashire,who died atKnightsbridge(where he had resided nearly sixty years)on the 22nd day of September, 1814,in the 88th year of his Age.
Without Patron, or Patrimony, by the honest fruits of Industry, he laid the foundation of an easy competence. More indebted to Prudence than Fortune for his acquisitions; but to Temperance alone for his length of days. A deep Researcher of the latent causes of Nature’s Phenomena; her vital Principle, he held in obedience, while he enriched the science of Electricity with his experiments. Pleased in the pursuit of Knowledge, and happy in the practice of Virtue; He was a Philosopher with a benevolent heart, the Father of the Knightsbridge Charity School; of the Free School of his native place the Revivor. He lived an Example worthy of imitation, and died without a groan.
Thus lived John Read, and so his spirit fledAnd here his ashes mingle with the Dead.
Mr. Thomas Goding, founder of the well-known brewing firm, lived at No. 12.
The Queen’s Head, an old inn next the Chapel, was pulled down in 1843. The house was once very curious inside, but had been considerably altered. On its removal the date 1576 was found inscribed in the brickwork.
The White Hart was more curious than the Queen’s Head, and retained its characteristics to the last, when it was removed for the Albert Gate improvements. Human remains, various ancient implements, and coins were turned up below its foundation. A filthy court ran from it along the bank of the stream. I have seen a memorandum of agreement by which a house next door to the White Hart was let in 1694 forfive pounds per annum.
Princes Gate.—Two terraces are so called, very absurdly.[163]The real gate is an entrance to the Park opposite, named after the Prince of Wales, and opened in October, 1848. It stands on the highest plot of ground between Hyde Park Corner and Windsor Castle.
Of the western terrace Mr. Leigh Hunt complains that “each house is too high for its width,” and says “they resemble a set of tallthin gentlemen squeezing together to look at something over the way.” I cannot agree with Mr. Hunt’s humour, and consider them a very handsome and pleasing row. Mr. Elmes, architect of St. George’s Hall, was designer, I believe, and Mr. Elger the builder; the eastern row was finished in 1851, the western in 1855. At No. 23, Vice-Chancellor Parker resided for a short while before his death. Between the two terraces stands
Kingston House, built about 1770, a large and pleasant mansion, and when first erected attracting notice by the conservatory attached to it. In this conservatory is a large window, representing a garden scene, painted by John Martin when a pupil of Charles Muss, the enamel painter.
Elizabeth Chudleigh was daughter of a Devonshire gentleman, who died when she was very young; but her mother having interest with Mr. Pulteney, she was appointed, at the age of eighteen, maid of honour to the Princess of Wales, mother to George III. In the aristocratic circle into which she was now introduced, she soon became a great favourite, and more than one young scion of nobility casta lover’s eye towards her. The young Duke of Hamilton was, however, the successful one; and the pledge of affiance passed mutually. He set forth on his travels, and she retired to the residence of an aunt, Mrs. Hanmer, where she found one of the most frequent visitors was the Hon. Mr. Hervey. He seems to have made up his mind instantly; but aware of her pledge to the duke, he induced Mrs. Hanmer to intercept their letters. The result of the scheme was as Hervey expected: no letters arriving, Miss Chudleigh believed herself slighted; and wrought on by the persuasions of Mrs. Hanmer, agreed to accept Captain Hervey. They were married privately, August 4th, 1744, but separated the day after, she continuing to fill her office as maid of honour. The dissimulation this compelled her to practise was probably the main cause of her after misfortunes; it was only by the knowledge that he would be compelled to maintain her, that Captain Hervey could be induced not to assert his claim; and her union being unknown at Court, she was still as much courted as ever. Home came Hamilton—he had been faithful to her—and demanded that explanation she was not able(unaccountably to him) to give, offered his hand again, which, of course, she was compelled to refuse. His despair was excessive; inquiries were made, and the duplicity of Mrs. Hanmer unveiled.
Unfortunately, instead of allowing time to soothe her sorrows, she began to drown them in a manner which showed a disregard of her sex and position. To escape the torrent of torment, she resolved to travel; but unwilling to go alone, was indiscreet enough to advertise in the newspapers for a companion. She succeeded, and off they started; but, as might have been expected, were soon tired of each other, and separated at Berlin. Here she was introduced to the great Frederick, who treated her with great distinction.
Returning home, she plunged into all the dissipation which then characterised society in the metropolis; but again her husband crossed her path and seemed determined to claim her, and finding remonstrance useless, she resorted to the dishonest stratagem of tearing out the leaf bearing the register of her marriage. Her husband had now no power to prove their union, as the clergyman who performed theceremony was dead. This step she soon regretted; for Captain Hervey, succeeding to the Earldom of Bristol, by his father’s death, her vanity made the rank of Countess very acceptable, and through the clerk she succeeded in replacing in the register-book the leaf she had abstracted.
Such was her position when the Duke of Kingston offered her his hand. Of course such was impossible; and accordingly they lived together for several years, but with such observance of external decorum, that though a moral, it was not an evidenced certainty. Her husband, on negotiations being opened, refused to gratify her with the title of Duchess; but a separation afterwards suiting his own wishes, he agreed not to oppose her application for a divorce, and the necessary proofs being withheld, it was granted. She now attained her wishes, and was married to the Duke March 8th, 1769.
While the Duke lived, the legality of the marriage was not questioned; but he died September 24th, 1773, and left her his whole fortune, on condition she did not marry again—a restraint she was by no means inclined to abide by. She, however, set out for Rome, whereGanganelli gave her apartments in the palace of one of his cardinals, and otherwise showed her distinction. Here, however, her gaiety was soon stopped by news of a disagreeable nature from home.
A Mrs. Cradock had been present as a domestic at her marriage with Lord Bristol, and, being in reduced circumstances, applied to the Duchess’s solicitor for relief; he, discrediting her tale, refused any, on which she went to Mr. Evelyn Pierrepoint, nephew of the Duke, and informed him of every particular. He thereupon preferred an indictment for bigamy against the Duchess, of which being informed, she, after surmounting various obstacles, landed at Dover, and was immediately bailed before Lord Mansfield, preparatory to taking her trial.
Before, however, that came on, an unexpected enemy appeared. Foote, imagining the case to afford capital material for his wit, wrote a piece, called “The Trip to Calais,” in which the Duchess was cleverly satirised asLady Kitty Crocodile. Foote, whose real object was to obtain a sum of money to suppress the piece, contrived to let her know what was astir; andthe Duchess, alarmed for once most terribly, sent for him. He waited on, and read her a part of his play. She felt the sting, and rose in great passion, declaring his delineation scandalous. He denied that the character was intended for her ladyship, and the play was left for her perusal. An intimation was made as Foote expected; but he refusing the offer of £1,600, and declaring he would not abate one shilling from the £2,000 demanded, he lost all; for her friends interceding with the Lord Chamberlain, he sent for, and censured the play. Foote published a letter of remonstrance, but the Duchess making every preparation for an action at law, he was completely defeated. A paper-war ensued, in which Foote had the advantage, greatly to the amusement, if not edification, of the public.
On April 15th, 1776, her trial commenced in Westminster Hall, Lord Bathurst sitting as Lord Steward. She was convicted; but pleading the privilege of the peerage, was discharged with a caution.
She left England immediately, and passed the rest of her life abroad. She purchased amagnificent estate near Fontainebleau, where she died, August 20th, 1788.[170a]
After the death of the Duchess of Kingston, her mansion at Knightsbridge became the residence, successively, of Sir George Warren, Lord Stair, Lord Listowel, and the Marquis of Wellesley, brother of the great Duke of Wellington, and himself one of the foremost statesmen of the time. He resided at Kingston House some years, living in great retirement, and died in it September 26th, 1842, in his 83rd year.[170b]
Kingston House was, after Lord Wellesley’s death, again the residence of the Earl of Listowel, to whom the freehold belonged; and it is at present inhabited by his son, the present earl.[170c]
Queen’s Buildings, commenced about 1770,and was named after Queen Charlotte. That part of it between Sloane Street and Hooper’s Court was originally called Queen’s Row, the remainder Queen’s Buildings, Knightsbridge, and at one time Gloucester Buildings.
First, I will notice Queen’s Row. Here, in 1772, the celebrated engraver, William Wynne Ryland, resided. Ryland was born in 1732, and, inclining towards the profession of an engraver, became a pupil of Simon Revenet, then established in this country. On quitting him, his godfather, Sir Watkin Williams Wynne, sent him to Paris, where he studied under Francis Boucher, and J. P. Le Bas. After four years sojourn he returned to England, and was appointed engraver to the King. He was the first person who introduced into this country the style of engraving in the chalk manner, applying himself chiefly to the pictures of Angelica Kauffman. This system he greatly improved, and in it had no equal.
Strutt laments that his “mercantile engagements should have occupied so valuable a part of his precious time, and prevented his pursuing the art with that alacrity his genius required, which seemed formed for great and extensiveexertions.” He commenced business originally in Cornhill, but here became bankrupt. He afterwards came to Knightsbridge, where he resided till the dreadful act was discovered which consigned him to the gallows.
On July 26th, 1783, he was tried before Judge Buller, for forging a bill of exchange for £200. He well-nigh escaped; the forgery being so beautifully executed that it was only the evidence of the paper-maker which convicted him. Great exertions were made to save him, but fruitlessly; and he was executed at Tyburn, August 29th, 1783. A few months after, the stream being cleared of some of its mud, in order to widen the roadway within the Park, a tin box containing some of the unfortunate man’s plates for counterfeiting banknotes, was discovered.[172]
No. 14 (corner of Hooper’s Court) was from 1792 to 1797 the residence of Mr. J. C. Nattes, an artist of celebrity in his time. About the year 1800 this house became the residence of the celebrated Arthur Murphy.
Arthur Murphy was born at Cork in 1727. Early in life he was sent to St. Omer’s, wherehe studied till his eighteenth year, when he returned to Cork, and passed two years as clerk in a merchant’s counting-house. At the end of this time he came to London, and entered a banking-house in a similar capacity. But literature captivated him, the drama especially, and it soon absorbed his mind.
The House in which Murphy lived, 14, Queen’s Buildings
His first publication, the “Gray’s Inn Journal,” commenced October 21st, 1752, and continued for nearly two years. But his prospects changing by an uncle’s death, he, in October, 1754, betook himself to the stage, appearing at Covent Garden, and performingOthello,Hamlet,Macbeth, &c. But it was apparent an actor’s life he could not follow; Churchill severely lashed him in the “Rosciad,” and Murphy retaliated in an ode, an effusion as coarse as his opponent’s attack.
To literature he now mainly turned his attention. In 1756 he produced “The Apprentice,” a farce, for Garrick; in 1758 “The Upholsterer,” and in the ensuing two years “The Orphan of China,” “The Desert Island,” and “The Way to Keep Him;” and in 1761 he published “All in the Wrong,” “The Citizen,” and “The Old Maid.”
In the year 1757 he applied for admission to the Middle Temple, but, on the ground of being an actor, was refused; he, however, induced Lord Mansfield to interfere on his behalf, and through this influence he entered Lincoln’s Inn. He was called to the Bar in 1762, and eventually became leader of the Norfolk Circuit. Lord Loughborough also gave him a Commissionership of Bankrupts—an office he held till his death.
The study of “Coke upon Littleton” was not, however, sufficiently attractive to wean him from his literary pursuits, and several plays, all of which were highly popular, appeared in rapid succession. Among these were his celebrated “Grecian Daughter” and “Know your own Mind.” This latter piece, published in 1777, was written for Mr. Harris, and was the last he brought on the stage.
Besides these he also published an edition of Fielding’s works, with a preliminary essay on his life and writings, an “Essay on the Life and Genius of Dr. Johnson,” a translation of Tacitus, and various others.
In 1788 he retired to Hammersmith, where he resided till 1800; he then came to Knightsbridge, and here, with the exception of a shorttime in Brompton Row, he resided till his death. In this house his “Life of Garrick” was written; he appears to have been happy and comfortable in it, occupying the first and second floors, and having a neat and intelligent landlady, whose interest he secured by procuring her son a presentation to Christ’s Hospital. He died June 18th, 1805, frequently repeating during the day the couplet of Pope—
“Taught half by reason, half by mere decay,To welcome Death, and calmly pass away.”
“Taught half by reason, half by mere decay,To welcome Death, and calmly pass away.”
It was to Murphy, Johnson owed his introduction to Mr. Thrale. “I question,” says Madame D’Arblay, “if Mr. Thrale loved any man so well.” With Reynolds and Burke, too, he was intimate, and reviewed the latter’s “Essay on the Sublime and Beautiful.” At Knightsbridge he became intimate with Maurice Morgann; but from the singular construction put by the latter on the characters of Shakespeare’s plays, silence on these points was bespoke in their interviews. Morgann died before Murphy, who deeply regretted, Mr. Foote tells us, his friend’s death.[175]
At the corner of Sloane Street, and occupying the site of the first four houses in it, was the Swan, an ancient and well-known hostelrie—a place of great trade in former times. The sign still exists at No. 5, Sloane Street; and that of the “Clock House” is also the same. Indeed the latter was only the “tap” to the former, and the separation of interests has not occurred above forty years. The old house was pulled down about 1777 or 1778. Otway, in “The Soldier’s Fortune,” alludes to it:—
Sir Davy Dunce.—“I have surely lost, and ne’er shall find her more. She promised me strictly to stay at home till I came back again; for aught I know, she may be up three pair of stairs in the Temple now; or it may be, taking the air, as far as Knightsbridge, with some smooth-faced rogue or another; ’tis a damned house that Swan,—that Swan at Knightsbridge is a confounded house.”
Sir Davy Dunce.—“I have surely lost, and ne’er shall find her more. She promised me strictly to stay at home till I came back again; for aught I know, she may be up three pair of stairs in the Temple now; or it may be, taking the air, as far as Knightsbridge, with some smooth-faced rogue or another; ’tis a damned house that Swan,—that Swan at Knightsbridge is a confounded house.”
Tom Brown also celebrates the Swan; and Dr. Wolcot (Peter Pindar) lays the scene of one of his coarse effusions there:—
“At Knightsbridge, at a tavern called the Swan,Churchwardens, overseers, a jolly clan,Ordered a dinner for themselves—A very handsome dinner of the best, &c.”
“At Knightsbridge, at a tavern called the Swan,Churchwardens, overseers, a jolly clan,Ordered a dinner for themselves—A very handsome dinner of the best, &c.”
Beyond Hooper’s Court (so called from its owner) Mr. J. G. Huck, an artist, lived at No. 11; Ozias Humphry in 1792 and 1793 atNo. 19 (Mitchell’s). At 21, Thomas Trotter, an ingenious engraver and draughtsman, especially in portraits. He died February 14th, 1803, and was buried in the Broadway ground, Westminster.
At No. 7 resided Michael Underwood, M.D., one of the most distinguished members of the medical profession then living. He wrote several professional works, which, notwithstanding the advance of the science, yet maintain their reputation. He attended Caroline of Brunswick at the birth of the Princess Charlotte. Was a very benevolent man and the gratuitous adviser to the poor of the whole neighbourhood. He died here March 14th, 1820.
Rutland House, a large red-brick mansion, occupied the site of the present Rutland Gate. John, Duke of Rutland, who bore the sceptre at the coronation of George III., and once filled the office of Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, died here May 29th, 1779, aged 88. The celebrated Marquis of Granby, his son, also resided here.[177]The whole estate, consisting of above six acres, was offered for sale by Mr. Robins in 1833, but was bought in, and in a year or two after the house was pulled down, and the land let for building. It belongs to Furzon Manners, Esq., now, a descendant of the Viceroy.
Rutland Gate was commenced in 1838, and completed as far as Clytha House in 1840. The remainder has been built since, the whole being completed in 1856.
The large detached house on the western side (24) was built by John Sheepshanks, Esq., the distinguished patron of British Art, who here gathered together that choice and valuable collection which he has so nobly presented to the nation. The collection was removed early in 1857.
Clytha House, the residence of Lord Edward Howard, was built for Mr. Jones, of Clytha, who here gathered a collection, chiefly of the early Italian schools, which was sold May 8th, 1852.
The Half-way House
Poor Eliot Warburton dated the second edition of his “Crescent and the Cross” from Rutland Gate; at 21 resides Mr. Edward Corbould, one of our finest delineators of female beauty; No. 22 was the residence of the Marchioness Wellesley, widow of the eminent statesman; Mr. Albert Way, the antiquary, Mr. Cotton and Mr. Prescott, both governors of the Bank of England, also number among the residents of Rutland Gate. Nearly opposite the western end of Rutland Gate, built in the roadway, stood an old inn, of very bad character at one time, called the “Halfway House.” An unusual array of stabling, troughs, pig-styes, &c., in a very unsightly manner, were built along the causeway; and over the door were several proofs of the faith in the old superstition that horse-shoes were a preventive to the visits of evil spirits. In one sense the charm was not efficacious, the house, from its lonely situation, being a resort for the highwayman and footpad. A curious notice of a trial is given in “Knight’s London,” where the thief-taker stated that if not met about this spot, they should not have caught the robber at all: a proof of their frequency, indeed! Jerry Abershawis said to have been a visitor here, and when the house was pulled down a secret staircase from a small chamber in the western part of the house was found built in the wall, to lead gradually down into the stables. Many a villain, doubtless, thus escaped when the officers of justice were close upon him.
The “Halfway House” was pulled down in 1846 at an expense of £3,050, in addition to the purchase of the fee.[180]
St. George’s Hospital.—A number of gentlemen of the medical profession, dissenting from the system of management carried on at Westminster Hospital, broke off their connection with it, and engaged Lanesborough House for a new institution, conducted under their own auspices.
Lanesborough House, afterwards St. George’s Hospital
Lanesborough House is described by Pennant as thecountry houseof the eccentric nobleman immortalised by Pope:—
“Old politicians chew on wisdom past,And totter on in business to the last,As weak, as earnest, and as gravely out,As sober Lanesbro’ dancing with the gout.”
“Old politicians chew on wisdom past,And totter on in business to the last,As weak, as earnest, and as gravely out,As sober Lanesbro’ dancing with the gout.”
He caused the following quaint distich to beinscribed on the house front in reference to its situation:—
“It is my delight to beBoth in town and country.”
“It is my delight to beBoth in town and country.”
The allusion of Pope to the dancing propensities of this nobleman is curiously borne out by the fact, that when Prince George of Denmark died he sought an interview with the widowed Queen, and advised her to dispel her grief by following his favourite amusement. Not till disabled entirely by the gout did he give up this relaxation. The “Golden Gallery” around the dome of St. Paul’s was gilded at his expense.
Lanesborough House was of red brick, three storeys high, with one small doorway, approached by three or four steps to the centre; the new authorities added two wings, also of red brick, and on January 1st, 1734, the institution was opened, having been established on October 19th, 1733.
One of those who took a leading part in this foundation was John Allen, apothecary to the household of George I., George II., and George III. successively. He remained a governor till his death, on March 17th, 1774.Another staunch supporter was the celebrated anatomist, Cheselden, the friend of Pope and other literary men. Some of his greatest operations were performed here. He was also surgeon to Chelsea Hospital, and in its graveyard lies buried.
The hospital gradually increased in wealth and usefulness, till in 1784 the governors issued advertisements asking for increased aid to prevent its decay. This arose from the fact that a large legacy left by a Mrs. Crayle caused an idea to be spread abroad that further aid of this kind was hardly wanted. Its legacies had been a main source of income; they now fell off, and the Crayle bequest being reversionary, the income rapidly fell, and at Christmas, 1783, the institution was above £1,900 in debt; but a third of the profits of the Handel Festival held in Westminster Abbey in 1784 enabled the governors to overcome their difficulties.
The celebrated John Hunter was one of the eminent men who have been connected with St. George’s Hospital. He was appointed surgeon in 1768, and always took an active part in its management. Here on October 16th,1793, his life was suddenly terminated. He had long disputed a matter of right with his colleagues, and in an altercation he was flatly contradicted, when a trifling address might have turned aside the quarrel. He rushed into an adjoining room and there fell into the arms of Dr. Robertson, one of the physicians, and his life was gone in an instant.
The increasing prosperity and demand on the Hospital proved at last that the old building did not afford the necessary accommodation, and accordingly its destruction was resolved on. This was effected in 1827, and the present building erected from designs by Wilkins. The old front was towards Hyde Park; the new one faces the Green Park, and is rendered imposing by its bold and massive tetrastyle portico, supported by square columns. Besides its numerous wards, here are a chapel, museum, lecture-room, and private apartments. The museum, so valuable to the surgeon, is not adapted for the public, unless to point a moral to the vicious and unwary. The mere curiosities are interesting; among them is the half-sovereign taken from Mr. Brunel’s windpipe, by Sir Benjamin Brodie, presented by its proprietor;the hide of the cow from which Jenner took the first vaccine matter; a packet of needles, which came simultaneously from the frame of a young lady, money and knives from patients’ stomachs, and other similar relics.
One regular fund is yet wanting to render the institution complete. Many a fellow-creature, who is entirely destitute, enters here, and, when recovered, re-enters the world, without a roof to shelter his weakened frame, or the wherewithal to obtain the common necessaries of life. Of late this has been to a certain extent remedied. A porcelain slab has been let into the wall (a corner-stone of faith it has been called) bearing the simple inscription—“In aid of those patients who leave this Hospital homeless and in need.” Ought such an appeal to rest solely on the charity of the busy multitudes passing by? To announce such a fund would, I believe, ensure its success.
In the burial-ground of St. George’s parish at Bayswater, is a headstone inscribed—
“Sacred to the Memory of the Rev. James Clarke,who died June 9th, 1811, aged 85 years.During fifty-one of which he discharged the duties of Chaplainto St. George’s Hospital, with credit to himself, and benefit tothe Institution.”
“Sacred to the Memory of the Rev. James Clarke,who died June 9th, 1811, aged 85 years.During fifty-one of which he discharged the duties of Chaplainto St. George’s Hospital, with credit to himself, and benefit tothe Institution.”
St. George’s Hospital formed a theme for one of Miss Landon’s poems.
St. George’s Place, till of late years, consisted of old-fashioned houses, about two storeys high. About 1827 the first improvement was made by the opening of Wilton Place, and gradually these old houses have been pulled down to make room for superior ones. Towards the upper end, these houses were detached. In one of them lived a Captain Warner, one of the heroes of Quebec. About 1829, Liston lived at No. 7, and at No. 12 for many years resided Mr. Richards, a well-known London auctioneer, who died here in 1810.
At No. 14 resided for many years the mother of Mr. Justice Burton, to whom belonged the freehold of this strip of land. She died here in 1799. Her son, Mr. Justice Burton, resided for many years in the house at the west corner of the entrance to the Barrack. Bred to the law, he became Recorder of Oxford and a King’s Counsel, and in July, 1778, was appointed one of the judges of Wales and Chester. He represented Woodstock and Oxford in several Parliaments, supporting the ministry of William Pitt, and at last becameFather of the Benchers of Lincoln’s Inn. He died in Brook Street, December, 1832, aged 89. The freehold mentioned was originally vested in the Laremar family. The first one of whom anything is known, was one William Laremar, captain of the Loyal Rebecca, a ship trading to Virginia in 1676, a time when the colony was disturbed by the rebellion of Nathaniel Bacon; the use of the vessel was given to the governor, Sir William Berkeley, by whom Laremar was appointed Commodore in St. James River, and was “maynly instrumental in the suppression of that rebellion and mutiny,” for which good service he received compensation from the Admiralty, the secretary of which was then Samuel Pepys. From the Laremars the property passed to the Burtons, from them to the Coles, and it is now enjoyed by Owen Blayney Cole, Esq. Liston also resided at 14 many years; and the next house was once tenanted by the Tathams, one of whom married Adam Adolphus, brother of the celebrated counsellor.
In No. 3 of the present houses lived General Campbell, an old Peninsular veteran. He died in June, 1852. No. 10 is the residence of Mr.Coningham, M.P. for Brighton, and 11, of James Goding, Esq.
The “White Horse Inn” was formerly established on the site of No. 11.; afterwards it was removed to the corner of the entrance of the Foot Barracks, but was pulled down in September, 1856, with three houses, one of which was Liston’s. Nos. 15 to 20 were built in 1849–50.
From the corner of Wilton Place the row extends ten houses further. No. 28 was Mr. Blore’s, the statuary’s. A house which stood at the corner, and narrowed the entrance to Wilton Place very considerably, was removed about 1841. For many years a Mrs. Dowell carried on the business of tobacconist here. She was an eccentric old damsel, and so exceedingly partial to the late Duke of Wellington, that she was continually inventing some new plan whereby to express her regard. She sent him occasionally patties, cakes, and other similardelicacies, and as it was useless to attempt to defeat the old woman’s pertinacity, everything was taken in. To such a pitch did she carry this mania, that I have heard she regularly laid for him at her table, constantly expectinghe would call in. With her lodged William Pickett, who lived in Knightsbridge the greater part of his life. A gravestone in St. George’s ground tells his short history:—
“Sacred to the memory of Mr. William Pickett, artist,who died at Knightsbridge, on the 23rd day of May, 1821,aged 45 years.”
“Sacred to the memory of Mr. William Pickett, artist,who died at Knightsbridge, on the 23rd day of May, 1821,aged 45 years.”
I must not leave St. George’s Place without a notice of John Liston. He was born in 1776; and his father, who lived in Norris Street, giving him a superior education, he, in 1795, became second master at Archbishop Tennison’s school near Leicester Square; but thus early the stage appears to have fascinated him, for he quitted his situation for acting plays with the elder boys. He then went into a mercantile house in the City.
When Liston first appeared on the stage is not accurately known; but the following note from a celebrated manager of the time appears to prove that to him, at least, he was well known. It is as follows,—verbatim:—
“Sir,“Your not favoring Me with an answrRelative to the I-dea of the Cast, I at Random (tho’ very ill) Scratch’t Out,Makes it Necessary for Me to have Your Opinion, in Order to Prevent Aney Mistake. I am,“Sir,“With every Good Wish,“Yours, &c.,“Tate Wilkinson.”
“Sir,
“Your not favoring Me with an answrRelative to the I-dea of the Cast, I at Random (tho’ very ill) Scratch’t Out,Makes it Necessary for Me to have Your Opinion, in Order to Prevent Aney Mistake. I am,
“Sir,“With every Good Wish,“Yours, &c.,“Tate Wilkinson.”
He now followed the stage as a profession, and obtained engagements at various provincial establishments; among others, at Newcastle-on-Tyne, under Stephen Kemble. The first comic part he performed was the very subordinate one ofDiggory, and even in this little part contrived to throw that irresistible originality of humour for which he afterwards became so celebrated. I have seen the copy the actor learnt from, with his erasures, interlineations, &c.
His first acknowledged appearance on a London stage was at the Haymarket, on June 10th, 1805, asSheepface, in “The Village Lawyer.” On the same evening Miss Tyrer made her re-appearance after a lapse of three years. She was soon after to become his wife, and they were married on Sunday, March 22nd, 1807, at St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields. Their mutual friend, Charles Taylor, the celebratedNoodle, in “Tom Thumb,” gave the weddingbreakfast. The union proved a happy one; one son and daughter were its issue. The former entered the army; the latter married Rodwell, the composer.
It is impossible, in this sketch of Liston’s life, to notice all his various performances and successes. His leading triumphs can alone be glanced at. In January, 1823, he commenced a £50 per week engagement at Drury Lane, asTony Lumpkin; and in May, 1824, George IV. commanded the “Hypocrite,” and heartily encoredMawworm’smock sermon. It was a favourite part of Liston’s, and his performance of it inimitable. I have seen a letter from a distinguished living actor, who had played the part, he says, “greatly against the grain, well recollecting Mr. Liston’s unapproachable excellence in it.”
In the ensuing year he reached the pinnacle of his fame by his impersonation ofPaul Pry. The popularity of the piece was immense, and chiefly through the unequalled ease and skill with which he acted his part. His well-known countenance was to be met with in every conceivable form, in plaster and clay, in china and butter, in the centre of pocket handkerchiefs,tobacconists’ “screw” papers, and in a variety of other ways, his unbounded success with the public was attested.
In 1831 he joined Madame Vestris, and performed with increasing popularity until the end of the season 1837. He never took a farewell formally of the stage; and the last time he ever performed was for the benefit of James Vining, in Planché’s “Peculiar Position;” and asMonsieur Champignonhe ended his professional career. It was, I believe, known to his friends that this would be his last appearance, and the following address was written by Rodwell on this occasion. It has never, I believe, been published:—
“Liston, farewell! for once the Comic MuseLooks vex’d and dismal, griev’d with thee to part;And heaves true sighs from her reluctant heart,While virgin tears her clouded eyes suffuse,By sorrows forc’d, despite of struggling art.Her mask avails not now. Her faltering voiceBetrays the o’er-mastering passion in her soul;For she must lose the servant of her choice,Who made her chariot merrily to roll,When he the Coachman played; and not less greatAs the mock Marquis help’d her mimic stateAbsurdly grave; or at his tricks againAs gay-hair’d Figaro swell’d her menial train,Pompous and plausible, serene and sly,With witty impudence, and humour dry.Expert at all trades, too, withlastorblockAlike tocomborcobblewig or sock;This he exactly fitted to her toe,In walk, or jig, or gallopade to go;And that so quaintly, whimsically curl’d,It grew the merry wonder of the world.Ney, just to keep the top or sole together,He’d patch the Sock ev’n with the Buskin’s leather,That she might follow in her sister’s pathWith pewter poison-pot, and dirk of lath;While he stalk’d on in Dollabella’s train,A lord, of whom the Court might well be vain.Our tears, O Liston! must with hers be blendedTo see, too soon, thy comic labours ended.And haply, oft when other servants bearSome mawkish viand of our bill of fare,Oft shall we turn dissatisfied, and wishFor Liston’s sauce, to help th’ insipid dish;Whose very look and air were quite enoughTo win our favour for the cook’s worst stuff.Or, if the dish be good, provoked to seeSome clumsy serving-man instead of thee.How shall we think, regretful of thy merit,Who served up all with such bewitching spirit,As made the best seem better, and the cookTo thee beholden, more than to his book,However puff’d by papers, or by rumour:—Thou great Original in comic humour!”31st May, 1837.
“Liston, farewell! for once the Comic MuseLooks vex’d and dismal, griev’d with thee to part;And heaves true sighs from her reluctant heart,While virgin tears her clouded eyes suffuse,By sorrows forc’d, despite of struggling art.Her mask avails not now. Her faltering voiceBetrays the o’er-mastering passion in her soul;For she must lose the servant of her choice,Who made her chariot merrily to roll,When he the Coachman played; and not less greatAs the mock Marquis help’d her mimic stateAbsurdly grave; or at his tricks againAs gay-hair’d Figaro swell’d her menial train,Pompous and plausible, serene and sly,With witty impudence, and humour dry.Expert at all trades, too, withlastorblockAlike tocomborcobblewig or sock;This he exactly fitted to her toe,In walk, or jig, or gallopade to go;And that so quaintly, whimsically curl’d,It grew the merry wonder of the world.Ney, just to keep the top or sole together,He’d patch the Sock ev’n with the Buskin’s leather,That she might follow in her sister’s pathWith pewter poison-pot, and dirk of lath;While he stalk’d on in Dollabella’s train,A lord, of whom the Court might well be vain.Our tears, O Liston! must with hers be blendedTo see, too soon, thy comic labours ended.And haply, oft when other servants bearSome mawkish viand of our bill of fare,Oft shall we turn dissatisfied, and wishFor Liston’s sauce, to help th’ insipid dish;Whose very look and air were quite enoughTo win our favour for the cook’s worst stuff.Or, if the dish be good, provoked to seeSome clumsy serving-man instead of thee.How shall we think, regretful of thy merit,Who served up all with such bewitching spirit,As made the best seem better, and the cookTo thee beholden, more than to his book,However puff’d by papers, or by rumour:—Thou great Original in comic humour!”
31st May, 1837.
Nor was this the only tribute Liston received; numerous were the attempts made to induce him to alter his decision, but he was inflexible, and it remained irrevocable. One of several letters I have seen I include here, notwithstandingits writer is living; but he cannot regret to see a letter given to the world showing such ability and excellent feeling. It is as follows:—
T. R. C. G., Dec. 18, 1839.My Dear Mr. Liston,—My mother has told me of one or two half-laughing conversations she has had with you, on the subject of your delighting the public with a few performances. Jest sometimes leads to earnest, and, on the principle of never throwing away a good chance, I venture to send you this to say, that should such a joyful occurrence be within the verge of possibility at any time, you may consider yourself King of Covent Garden; act when you please, what you please, and as long as you please; stop when you please, take what money you please, and be sure that, do whatever you please, you cannot fail to please. More than this I cannot say, except that you shall be allowed to sweeten your own tea, and, when you are too late for rehearsal, beat the prompter. In plain English, and in sober earnest, if you will make up your mind to gratify us by playing a few of your old parts, everything that mortals can do to make you comfortableand happy shall be done, and we shall be most proud in being the caterers of a national treat.I will not bore you more—only say the word, and we are “at your feet.”Ever yours, with kind regards to Mrs. Liston, very truly and very faithfully,C. J.Mathews.
T. R. C. G., Dec. 18, 1839.
My Dear Mr. Liston,—My mother has told me of one or two half-laughing conversations she has had with you, on the subject of your delighting the public with a few performances. Jest sometimes leads to earnest, and, on the principle of never throwing away a good chance, I venture to send you this to say, that should such a joyful occurrence be within the verge of possibility at any time, you may consider yourself King of Covent Garden; act when you please, what you please, and as long as you please; stop when you please, take what money you please, and be sure that, do whatever you please, you cannot fail to please. More than this I cannot say, except that you shall be allowed to sweeten your own tea, and, when you are too late for rehearsal, beat the prompter. In plain English, and in sober earnest, if you will make up your mind to gratify us by playing a few of your old parts, everything that mortals can do to make you comfortableand happy shall be done, and we shall be most proud in being the caterers of a national treat.
I will not bore you more—only say the word, and we are “at your feet.”
Ever yours, with kind regards to Mrs. Liston, very truly and very faithfully,
C. J.Mathews.
Liston wrote a copy of his answer on the fly-leaf of this letter as follows:—
My Dear Mr. Mathews,—Notwithstanding the skill you exhibit in endeavouring to arouse my dormant vanity, be assured, once for all, it cannot prevail to overcome the unalterable determination I came to when I quitted the stage, never to reappear professionally before the public. Not only should I consider my reassuming the cap and bells, at my advanced age, a moral indecorum; my decaying strength also would render the experiment too hazardous, and I have no doubt were Mr. Wakley the coroner to have to preside at an inquest on my remains, he would—as he did the other day, in the case of a poor old woman who drank herself to death—suggest to the jury the propriety of returning a verdict ofFelo-de-se.Accept, however, my very grateful thanks for your liberal proposal, as well as for the terms in which the offer has been conveyed; they bring back a pleasing remembrance of the position we stood in to each other a few years back, to which, though for a time interrupted, I trust we are once again happily restored.Mrs. Liston joins me in sincere hopes for the continual prosperity of you and yours, and believe me (once again mydearCharles),Your friend and well wisher,J.Liston.
My Dear Mr. Mathews,—Notwithstanding the skill you exhibit in endeavouring to arouse my dormant vanity, be assured, once for all, it cannot prevail to overcome the unalterable determination I came to when I quitted the stage, never to reappear professionally before the public. Not only should I consider my reassuming the cap and bells, at my advanced age, a moral indecorum; my decaying strength also would render the experiment too hazardous, and I have no doubt were Mr. Wakley the coroner to have to preside at an inquest on my remains, he would—as he did the other day, in the case of a poor old woman who drank herself to death—suggest to the jury the propriety of returning a verdict ofFelo-de-se.
Accept, however, my very grateful thanks for your liberal proposal, as well as for the terms in which the offer has been conveyed; they bring back a pleasing remembrance of the position we stood in to each other a few years back, to which, though for a time interrupted, I trust we are once again happily restored.
Mrs. Liston joins me in sincere hopes for the continual prosperity of you and yours, and believe me (once again mydearCharles),
Your friend and well wisher,J.Liston.
This correspondence, so interesting and so creditable to both parties, shows Liston to have had a kind heart and joyous disposition, and that such can exist with the highest notions of moral responsibility. Liston’s private life was retired and becoming, the love of literature, acquired early, never left him; few persons were greater students than he, and his knowledge of the Scriptures is said to have been very extensive.
The illness which terminated his life first attacked him four years previously, in the form of apoplexy. The last attack came on suddenly, on March 16th, 1846, and he neverspoke again. He lingered till the ensuing Sunday, when he died in the arms of his wife. That same day, and almost that same hour (half-past ten), thirty-nine years previously, andon a Sunday too, she had sworn “to love and to cherish till death should them part,” and thus literally she fulfilled her vow.
He lies at Kensal Green; over his grave rises a column, bearing the following inscription:—
“Sacred to the Memory of John Liston, who died March 22nd, 1846, aged 73. He lived many years an ornament to his profession, and died much respected and regretted.”
“Sacred to the Memory of John Liston, who died March 22nd, 1846, aged 73. He lived many years an ornament to his profession, and died much respected and regretted.”
Mrs. Liston survived her husband eight years. Born about 1780, she became a pupil of Kelly, and made her first London appearance in 1800. She was always a favourite with the public, the very appropriate part ofQueen Dolabella, in “Tom Thumb,” being generally considered her best. She died at No. 28, Brompton Square, whither she removed from Knightsbridge, September 19th, 1854.
Behind St. George’s Place was formerly a foot-barrack, established about 1758. It continued to be used as a depot until 1835 or 1836, when Government sold the remainder of theirlease. On part of the drill ground St. Paul’s Church is built, and the barracks are let out as tenements. Over a portion of its parade-ground Mr. Dunn built the St. George’s Gallery, for his “Chinese Collection;” the “Exhibition of Modern Art” was also, with other attractions, located here; among them Mr. Gordon Cumming, with the relics of his African exploits. The lease of this property is just expiring, and various improvements are contemplated.
Tattersall’s.—Richard Tattersall, founder of this well-known establishment, was born in 1723. He became training-groom to the last Duke of Kingston, after whose death, I presume, he started on his own account at Hyde Park Corner, as I find he sold off the Duke’s stud, and an injunction was applied for, December 14th, 1774, to prevent payment of the money to the Duchess, then under indictment. In 1775 frequent advertisements of Tattersall’s show that his business rapidly progressed, and his establishment soon became the head-quarters of the sporting world. That it early gained an aristocratic fame is proved bythe allusion in “The Belle’s Stratagem,” first performed in 1782:—
“Flutter: Oh, yes! I stopped at Tattersall’s as I came by, and there I found Lord James Jessamy, Sir William Wilding, and Mr. —. But, now I think of it, you sha’nt know a syllable of the matter; for I have been informed you never believe above one-half of what I say.”
“Flutter: Oh, yes! I stopped at Tattersall’s as I came by, and there I found Lord James Jessamy, Sir William Wilding, and Mr. —. But, now I think of it, you sha’nt know a syllable of the matter; for I have been informed you never believe above one-half of what I say.”
Richard Tattersall died February 20th, 1795, aged 72. Two portraits of him are still in his descendants’ possession; from one of them a portrait in “Knight’s London” is engraved.[198]He was succeeded in his business by his only son, Edmund, who carried it on until his death, January 23rd, 1810. His son, Edmund, who founded the foreign trade, then succeeded; who dying December 11th, 1851, the business came to its present proprietors.
The entrance to Tattersall’s is from Grosvenor Place, down a deep descent under an unpretending archway. At the bottom is a tavern, bearing the appropriate sign of “The Turf,” opposite to which is a gateway, leading into a circular-shaped inclosure, on the skirt of whichis a gravel path encircling a grass-plot, from the centre of which rises a solitary tree; here the horses are tried and examined. The subscription room—a well proportioned one—was designed by Mr. George Tattersall, author of “Sporting Architecture.” Over the mantelpiece of the counting-house hang the regulations, dated 1780. In the courtyard is a domed structure surmounted by a bust of George IV. in his eighteenth year, at which period of life he was a frequent visitor. Beneath this dome is a pump, surmounted by the figure of a fox. A writer in the “Sporting Magazine” (June, 1852) stated that “Tattersall’s annual average of horses brought to the hammer, is estimated at £45,000,” and that he believed “there were 97 stalls, and 13 loose boxes, or standing for 110.” The chief business days are Mondays and Thursdays.
Trevor Square, so named from Sir John Trevor, who had a house on its site, was built about 1818. The freehold is still that of his descendant, Lord Duncannon; hence the names to be met with here are derived, such as Hill Street, Arthur Street, Duncannon Cottage, &c.
At No. 1 in the square lived the notoriousHarriette Wilson; and Mrs. Andrée, a descendant of the Umfreville, whom William the Conqueror styled his kinsman, died here in 1836.
Trevor Chapel, one of the largest places of worship in the metropolis, belonging to the Independents, was built about 1817, under the ministry of the Rev. John Morrison, D.D. He is still its nominal minister, but his great age and infirmities preclude any active duty. The officiating pastor is the Rev. John Statham. Dr. Morrison is beloved not only by his congregation, but by the whole community of London Dissenters. He is known also as the author of several theological works, the best of which is a “Commentary on the Psalms.”
In the last century a portion of the land about this part was rented by a French Protestant refugee family, named Moreau, of which General Moreau was a member. They returned to France about eighty years since.[200]
All this land one hundred and fifty years ago was the property of Sir John Trevor, many years Master of the Rolls. He was second sonof John Trevor, of Bynkinsalt, Denbighshire, Esq., by an aunt of the infamous Chancellor Jeffreys, and was born about 1638. After a very lowly education, he was taken by a relative, Arthur Trevor, a barrister, as his clerk. Here he assiduously applied himself to the study of the law, and afterwards entered the Inner Temple, and was called to the bar. His advancement was very rapid, for, entering the House of Commons, he upheld the Royal Prerogative to an extreme, denying the right of Parliament to inquire into its exercise. He took a prominent part in the unjust prosecution of the unfortunate Lord Strafford, and strenuously defended Jeffreys when he obstructed the right of petitioning in the great controversy between thePetitionersandAbhorrers.
When James II. called his only Parliament in May, 1685, Trevor, who sat for Denbigh, was, through the Government influence, elected Speaker.[201]The new Parliament, however, did not suit James, and at the commencement of a second session was dissolved. Trevor’s obsequiousness was rewarded with the Mastership of the Rolls, an office to which he was appointedOctober 20th, 1685. It is said he aimed now at the Chancellorship, and, with that object, endeavoured to injure Jeffreys by aiding the outcry against him on the occasion of the shameless case of Alderman Cornish.
In July, 1688, Trevor was sworn of the Privy Council; but William of Orange soon after landing, with characteristic meanness he held aloof, but when James returned after his first flight, imagining a reaction was come, declared in his favour; his hopes proved transitory, and he therefore joined the High Tories, who wished to make William Regent only. He, however, was declared King, and Trevor was removed from the Rolls.
In 1690 a new Parliament was called, and Trevor joined the more moderate of the two sections into which his party was divided; and having offered to support the new King, and also bring over partisans from the opposite camp, if restored to the Speaker’s chair, his proposal was agreed to; and so well did he perform his part, that William in a few weeks appointed him First Commissioner of the Great Seal, he still retaining the Speakership, and in less than two years, his successor at the Rollsdying, he was restored to that position also. But great inconvenience resulted, and on May 2nd, 1693, the Great Seal was given to Somers.
In 1694 a great agitation was manifested in the House of Commons, in the belief that the Court, and even the House itself, was tainted with bribery. A committee was appointed, and on the 12th March, 1695, Mr. Foley, the chairman, read its report, which implicated Trevor; and a debate arising, a resolution was proposed “That Sir John Trevor, Speaker of this House, receiving a gratuity of 1,000 guineas from the City of London, after passing of the Orphans’ Bill, is guilty of a high crime and misdemeanour.” This motion Trevor had the mortification to put from the chair, and the unparalleled humiliation of declaring it unanimously carried. The House immediately adjourned, and two days after he resigned the chair, and on the 16th a motion for his expulsion from the House was carried, and a new writ issued for the borough he represented.[203]He was, strangely enough, permitted to retainhis Mastership of the Rolls, and no further proceedings were taken against him. The rest of his life he wisely spent in his judicial office, never again withdrawing from it for politics. He died at his house in Chancery Lane, May 20th, 1717, and was buried in the Rolls Chapel.
Trevor’s character, on the whole, is but a poor one; a selfish ambition appears to have made him consider the end, and not the means, the chief object of his care.
His circumstances, doubtless, compelled him to practise a rigid economy, which, as he advanced in years and position, grew into meanness. But it would be unjust not to mention the redeeming points in his career. Lord Campbell states that “he was not only an upright but an enlightened judge, and he pronounced many decrees which to this day are considered of high authority.” No charge of bribery or favouritism was ever brought against him in the fulfilment of his judicial duties. “He had a villa at Knightsbridge,” says Lord Campbell, “then almost a day’s journey from London, and he has been absurdly censured for occasionally hearing cases at his privateresidence, a practice all equity judges sometimes must necessarily follow.” And notwithstanding his niggardly disposition he founded six almshouses in St. Martin’s parish, Shropshire, and provided also several other charities. He left issue an only daughter, Anne, who married Michael Hill, of Hillsborough, Esquire, who had two sons—Trevor, who became heir to the Hills, and was ancestor of the Marquis of Downshire, and Arthur, who inherited this property, assumed the name of Trevor, and was, April 27th, 1765, raised to the peerage as Viscount Duncannon; and from him the present freeholder is descended.
William Street was built about 1830. At No. 11 resided for many years Lady Morgan, whose works occupy too distinguished a place in our literature to need mention here. Mrs. Gascoigne, in her poem, “Belgravia,” after sketching the portrait of Mr. Higgins, as before given, describes Lady Morgan as follows:
“Nor his the only pen Belgravia’s boundsCan boast, whose glory far and wide resounds!Endowed with manly powers, a woman’s quillCan treat and master every theme at will;And in her wisdom’s energetic scope,Put down aWiseman, and unchair aPope.”
“Nor his the only pen Belgravia’s boundsCan boast, whose glory far and wide resounds!Endowed with manly powers, a woman’s quillCan treat and master every theme at will;And in her wisdom’s energetic scope,Put down aWiseman, and unchair aPope.”
The last line alludes to the controversy so cleverly sustained by her ladyship, as to the genuineness of St. Peter’s Chair—a paper war, forming a capital chapter for a future Disraeli, and the only amusing episode connected with the Papal Aggression of 1851.
Wilton Crescentwas commenced in 1826 by Mr. Seth Smith. At No. 24 for many years lived Mr. Hallam, the celebrated historian. Here the greatliteratiof our times were wont to meet, for Mr. Hallam’s assemblies were of the most celebrated and intellectual. At No. 16 the late Lord Dudley Stuart once resided; it is now the residence of Mr. Richardson. No. 20 is the town-house of the Earl of Winchelsea, the “Protestant Earl;” 39 was the residence of the Rev. W. Bennett; and 30 of Lord John Russell, before his removal to Chesham Place. Mr. Baron Watson resides at 38; and Mr. Milner Gibson at No. 50. Lord Chewton, who so gallantly fell in leading his men at the Battle of Alma, lived at 37.
Wilton Place, occupying the site of a cow-yard, into which there was a narrow entrance from the main road, was built in 1827. At No. 15 Sir James Macdonald, the gallant defenderof Hougoumont, lived, and died there in May, 1857; also the Hon. Thomas Stapleton, an antiquary, at 13; Mr. Westmacott at 21. The Chisholm used to occupy 35; and Miss Reynolds, the actress, still resides at No. 4.
With Wilton Place these notices of Knightsbridge (proper) close; mention of those eminent persons whoselocalecannot be traced will, I think, appropriately finish this chapter.
Richard Bensley, the celebrated actor of the last century, resided the latter part of his life at Knightsbridge. Appearing for the first time, in 1765, asPierrein “Venice Preserved,” he maintained a good reputation as an actor for a lengthened period, not quitting the stage till May 6th, 1796. He had the honour to deliver Johnson’s prologue to Goldsmith’s “Good-Natured Man;” and asPierre,Iago, andHotspur, his fame stood high among his contemporaries. He was appointed barrack-master at Knightsbridge (he had in early life been in the army), which appointment he held till his death in 1817.
Thomas Harrison, a poet, a friend of Addison and Swift—“my own creature,” the latter calls him—who brought over the celebratedTreaty of Utrecht, died at Knightsbridge, on February 14th, 1713. He was aprotégéof Swift, who describes him, in 1710, as “a young fellow we are all fond of; a little pretty fellow, with a great deal of wit, good sense, and good nature.” He was then tutor to a son of the Duke of Queensbury onforty pounds a year; Swift introduced him to the Ministry, and he was sent out as Secretary to the Embassy to arrange the Peace of Utrecht, St. John presenting him with fifty guineas to bear his expenses. Less than two years had elapsed on February 11th, 1713, when Swift, returning from a dinner, found a letter on his table from Harrison, telling him he was ill, and desired to see him. He went in the morning, found him suffering from fever and inflammation, harassed and penniless; got thirty guineas for him from Bolingbroke, and a Treasury order for £100 of his arrears of salary. He then removed him to Knightsbridge for change of air. On February 14th, Swift writes,—“I took Parnell (the poet) this morning, and we walked to see poor Harrison. I had the £100 in my pocket. I told Parnell I was afraid to knock at the door. My mind misgave me. I knocked,and his man, in tears, told me his master was dead an hour before.” Swift seems to have loved Harrison, and felt his loss acutely. “Think,” he says, “what grief this is to me! I went to his mother, and have been ordering things for his funeral with as little cost as possible, to-morrow at ten at night. Lord Treasurer was much concerned when I told him; I would not dine with Lord Treasurer, or any one else. No loss ever grieved me so much.” And the next day he records, “At ten at night I was at his funeral, which I ordered to be as private as possible. We had but one coach with four of us; and when it was carrying us home, after the funeral, the braces broke, and we were forced to sit in it, and have it held up, till my man went for chairs, at eleven at night, in terrible rain.”[209]
Tickell, in one of his poems, mentions Harrison as—
“That much loved youth, whom Utrecht’s walls confine;”
“That much loved youth, whom Utrecht’s walls confine;”
and indeed, though little is known of him, he seems to have been a favourite with his contemporaries.
Bernard Lens, miniature painter to George II., retiring from his profession, settled at Knightsbridge, where he died, December 30th, 1740. According to Vertue, he was buried at Kensington, but his name does not appear on the register. He was tutor to the celebrated Duke of Cumberland, and excelled as a copyist of Rubens and Vandyke, whose colouring he imitated admirably.