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A WALK
From London to Fulham

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

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

with additional illustrations, by
F. W. FAIRHOLT, F.S.A.

LONDON: WILLIAM TEGG.
1860.

CONTENTS.

NOTE.

A series of papers which originally appeared in ‘Fraser’ are now, for the first time, published in a collected form with the consent of the proprietors of that Magazine. It should, however, be stated, that this is not a mere reprint, but that other matter has been inserted, and several illustrations, which did not appear originally, are now added, by which the work is very materially increased: the whole having undergone a necessary revision.

Since the late Mr. Crofton Croker contributed to ‘Fraser’ the ‘Walk from London to Fulham,’ there have been many important changes on the road: time has continued to efface interesting associations; more old houses have been pulled down, new ones built up, and great alterations and improvements have taken place not contemplated a few years ago. It would be impossible, for example, that any one who has not visited the locality during the last few years could recognize the narrow lanes

of yesterday in the fine roads now diverging beyond the South Kensington Museum, which building has so recently been erected at the commencement of Old Brompton; but modern improvements are seemingly endless, and have of late become frequent. It is in the belief that the following pages will be an interesting and acceptable record of many places no longer in existence, that they are submitted to the public in their present shape by

T. F. DILLON CROKER.

to
THOMAS WRIGHT, Esq., M.A., F.S.A.

My dear Mr. Wright,

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

Yours most faithfully,

T. F. DILLON CROKER.

19 Pelham Place,
Brompton, 1860.

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

The late eminent genealogist, Sir W. Betham of Dublin, Ulster King-at-Arms, well known as the author of numerous works on the Antiquities of Ireland, and Mr. Richard Sainthill, an equally zealous antiquary still living in Cork, were two of the most intimate friends and correspondents of the late Mr. Crofton Croker.

The first-named gentleman drew up an elaborate table tracing the Croker pedigree as far back as the battle of Agincourt. The Croker crest—“Deus alit eos”—was granted to Sir John Croker, who accompanied Edward IV. on his expedition to France in 1475, as cup and standard-bearer; but without going back to the original generation, or tracing the Limerick or any other branch of the family, it will be sufficient to say here that the Crokers, if they did not “come over with William the Conqueror” came originally from Devonshire, and settled in Ireland in the reign of Elizabeth. Thomas Crofton Croker was the only son of Thomas Croker, who, after twenty-five years of arduous and

faithful military service in North America, Holland, and Ireland, and after having purchased every step in the army, was gazetted brevet-major on the 11th May, 1802, in the same regiment which he had at first joined (the 38th, or 1st Staffordshire Foot), and in which he had uninterruptedly served. Indeed, he was so much attached to his regiment, that, in his case at least, the Staffordshire knot became perfectly symbolic. The closer the knot was drawn the firmer the tie became. He commenced, continued, and ended an honourable life of activity in the service of his country from mere boyhood, until ill-health and a broken constitution forced him to sell his commission. Thomas Croker was the eldest son of Richard Croker, of Mount Long in the county of Tipperary, who died on the 1st January, 1771; and his mother was Anne, the daughter of James Long of Dublin, by the Honourable Mary Butler, daughter of Theobald the seventh Earl of Cahir. Thomas Croker was born on the 29th March, 1761. In 1796 he married Maria, eldest daughter and co-heir of Croker Dillon of Baltidaniel in the county of Cork, and on the 15th January, 1798, Thomas Crofton Croker was born at the house of his maternal grandmother in Buckingham Square, Cork, receiving his first Christian name after his father, and his second after his godfather, the Honourable Sir E. Crofton, Bart.

While very young, during the years 1812 and 1815, Crofton Croker made several excursions in the south of Ireland, studying the character and traditions of the country, on which occasions he was frequently accompanied by Mr. Joseph Humphreys, a Quaker, afterwards master of the

Deaf and Dumb Institution at Claremont near Dublin. In 1813 he was placed with the mercantile firm of Messrs. Lecky and Mark, and in 1817 he appeared as an exhibitor in the second exhibition of the Cork Society, for he had already displayed considerable talent as an artist. In 1818 he contributed to an ephemeral production called ‘The Literary and Political Examiner:’ on the 22nd March of that year his father died, and he left Ireland, not to revisit it until he made a short excursion there in 1821 with Alfred Nicholson and Miss Nicholson (who afterwards became Mrs. Croker), children of the late Mr. Francis Nicholson, one of the founders of the English water-colour school, and who died in 1844 at the patriarchal age of ninety-one years.

Crofton Croker’s first visit to England was paid to Thomas Moore in Wiltshire; and soon after his establishing in London he received from the late Right Hon. John Wilson Croker an appointment at the Admiralty, of which office his namesake (but no relation) was secretary, and from which he (Crofton) retired in 1850 as senior clerk of the first class, having served upwards of thirty years, thirteen of which were passed in the highest class. This retirement, although he stood first for promotion to the office of chief clerk, was compulsory upon a reduction of office, and was not a matter of private convenience. In 1830 Crofton Croker married Miss Marianne Nicholson, and the result of their union was an only child, Thomas Francis Dillon Croker, born 26th August, 1831, the writer of the present memoir.

The literary labours of Crofton Croker were attended

with more gratifying results than his long and unwearied official services. The ‘Researches in the South of Ireland’ (1824), an arrangement of notes made during several excursions between the years 1812 and 1822, was his first important work. It was published by John Murray, the father of the present publisher of the ‘Quarterly Review,’ and contained illustrations by Mr. Alfred and Miss Nicholson: with the ‘Fairy Legends,’ however, the name of Crofton Croker became more especially associated, the first edition of which appeared anonymously in 1825, and produced a complimentary letter from Sir Walter Scott, which has been published in all subsequent editions. The success of the first edition of the legends was such as immediately to justify a second, which appeared the next year, illustrated with etchings after sketches by Maclise, and which was followed by a second series (Parts 2 and 3) in 1827. The third part, although it appeared under the same title, namely ‘Fairy Legends and Traditions of the South of Ireland,’ may be considered as forming almost a separate work, inasmuch as it comprised the fairy superstitions of Wales and other countries, in addition to those current in Ireland. A translation of the legends by the Brothers Grimm appeared in Germany in 1825, and another in Paris in 1828 (‘Les Contes Irlandais, précédés d’une introduction par M. P. A. Dufau’), but it was not until 1834 that Murray published them in a condensed form in his ‘Family Library,’ the copyright of which edition, as revised by the author, was purchased of Murray by the late Mr. Tegg, and is now published by his son. In October, 1826, Croker was introduced to Sir

Walter Scott at Lockhart’s in Pall Mall. Sir Walter recorded the interview thus:—“At breakfast Crofton Croker, author of the Irish fairy tales—little as a dwarf, keen-eyed as a hawk, and of easy, prepossessing manners, something like Tom Moore. Here were also Terry, Allan Cunningham, Newton, and others.” At this meeting, Sir Walter Scott suggested the adventures of Daniel O’Rourke as the subject for the Adelphi pantomime, and, at the request of Messrs. Terry and Yates, Croker wrote a pantomime founded upon the legend, which was produced at the Adelphi the same year. It succeeded, and underwent two editions: the second was published in 1828, uniform with the legends, and entitled ‘Daniel O’Rourke; or, Rhymes of a Pantomime, founded on that Story.’ Croker wrote to his sister (Mrs. Eyre Coote, alive at the present time) the following account of the breakfast party at Lockhart’s, which, though already published in ‘The Gentleman’s Magazine’ (November, 1854), is sufficiently interesting to be repeated. He first mentions “the writing and preparing for the Adelphi Theatre a Christmas pantomime from the renowned adventures of Daniel O’Rourke, two or three meetings with Sir Walter Scott, some anxious experiments in lithography under the directions of Mr. Coindet, one of the partners of Englemann’s house of Paris, who has lately opened an establishment here, which will be of the utmost importance to the advancement of the art in this country, and of which I hope soon to send you specimens.” Then he adds: “To tell half the kindness and attention which I received from Sir Walter Scott would be impossible. The breakfast party at Lockhart’s consisted of

Allan Cunningham, Terry (the actor), Newton (the artist), a Dr. Yates of Brighton, Captain, Mr., and Mrs. Lockhart, Miss Scott, Mr. Hogg, and your humble servant. We had all assembled when Sir Walter entered the room. Maclise’s sketch does not give his expression, although there is certainly a strong likeness—a likeness in it which cannot be mistaken; but I have a very rough profile sketch in pen and ink by Newton, which is admirable, and which some time or other I will copy and send you. When I was introduced to the ‘Great Unknown’ I really had not the power of speaking; it was a strange feeling of embarrassment, which I do not remember having felt before in so strong a manner; and of course to his ‘I am glad to see you, Mr. Croker, you and I are not unknown to each other,’ I could say nothing. He contrived to say something neat to every one in the kindest manner—a well-turned compliment, without, however, the slightest appearance of flattery—something at which every one felt gratified. After speaking for a few moments to Mr. Terry and Allan Cunningham, he returned to where I stood fixed and ‘mute as the monument on Fish Street Hill;’ but I soon recovered the use of my tongue from the easy manner in which he addressed me, and no longer seemed to feel myself in the presence of some mighty and mysterious personage. He spoke slowly, with a Scotch accent, and in rather a low tone of voice, so much so, indeed, that I found it difficult to catch every word. He mentioned my ‘Fairy Legends,’ and hoped he should soon have the very great enjoyment of reading the second volume. ‘You are our—I speak of the Celtic nations’ (said Sir Walter)—‘great authority now on fairy

superstition, and have made Fairy Land your kingdom; most sincerely do I hope it may prove a golden inheritance to you. To me,’ (continued Sir Walter) ‘it is the land of promise of much future entertainment. I have been reading the German translation of your tales and the Grimms’ very elaborate introduction.’ Mr. Terry mentioned having received from me Daniel O’Rourke in the shape of a Christmas pantomime. ‘It is an admirable subject,’ said Sir Walter, ‘and if Mr. Croker has only dramatized it with half the skill of tricking up old wives’ tales which he has shown himself to possess, it must be, and I prophesy, although I have not seen it, it will be as great a golden egg in your nest, Terry, as Mother Goose was to one of the greater theatres some years ago.’ He then repeated by heart part of the conversation between Dan and the Eagle, with great zest. I must confess it was most sweet from such a man. But really I blush, or ought to blush, at writing all this flattery.” Here the origin of Maclise’s illustrations to the legends is thus given by the editor of the ‘Gentleman’s Magazine.’ “The artist, who had not then quitted his native city of Cork, was a frequent visitor to Mr. Sainthill (the author of ‘Olla Podrida’), at the time that the first edition of the work appeared. Mr. Sainthill read the tales aloud from time to time in the evening, and Maclise would frequently, on the next morning, produce a drawing of what he had heard. These were not seen by Mr. Croker until his next visit to Cork: but when he did see them he was so much pleased with them that he prevailed upon Mr. Sainthill to allow them to be copied for his forthcoming edition: and this was done by Maclise, and

the drawings were engraved by W. H. Brooke, and Maclise’s name was not attached to them, but merely mentioned by Mr. Croker in his preface.”

Scott made favourable mention of the ‘Fairy Legends’ in the collected edition of the ‘Waverley Novels’ published in 1830. In a note on Fairy Superstitions to Chapter XI. of ‘Rob Roy,’ speaking of the elfin traditions peculiar to the wild scenery where Avon Dhu or the River Forth has its birth, he observes: “The opinions entertained about these beings are much the same with those of the Irish, so exquisitely well narrated by Mr. Crofton Croker.” Again, in his ‘Letters on Demonology and Witchcraft,’ Scott says: “We know from the lively and entertaining legends published by Mr. Crofton Croker, which, though in most cases, told with the wit of the editor and the humour of his country, contain points of curious antiquarian information” as to what the opinions of the Irish are. And again, speaking of the Banshee: “The subject has been so lately and beautifully investigated and illustrated by Mr. Crofton Croker and others, that I may dispense with being very particular regarding it.” This was indeed gratifying from such an authority. The late Thomas Haynes Bayley dedicated to Crofton Croker a volume entitled ‘Songs from Fairy Land.’

Having dwelt at considerable length upon the legends, the required limits of this notice will not permit more than a reference to the literary works of Mr. Croker which succeeded them; and as there is but occasion for their enumeration, they shall be here given in the order of their appearance, merely premising that the tales of

‘Barney Mahoney’ and ‘My Village versus Our Village,’ were not by Mr. Croker, although they bore his name: they were, in reality, written by Mrs. Croker. The list stands thus:—

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

1829. ‘Legends of the Lakes; or, Sayings and Doings at Killarney, collected chiefly from the Manuscripts of R. Adolphus Lynch, Esq., H. P. King’s German Legion, with illustrations by Maclise (Ebers).’ A second edition, compressed into one volume as a guide to the Lakes, appeared in 1831. (Fisher.)

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

1835. ‘Landscape Illustrations to Moore’s Irish Melodies, with Comments for the Curious.’ (Only one number appeared.) (Power.)

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

‘The Journal of a Tour through Ireland in 1644, translated from the French of M. de la Boullaye le Gouz, assisted by J. Roche, Father Prout, and Thomas Wright.’ (Boone.) Dedicated to the elder Disraeli, “in remembrance of much attention and kindness received from him

many years ago;” which dedication was cordially responded to by that author.

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

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

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

During subsequent years Mr. Croker produced several minor works on antiquarian and popular subjects, some of them printed for private circulation among his friends, and others as contributions to the different societies of which he was a member. He died at his residence, 3, Gloucester Road, Old Brompton, on the 8th of August, 1854, aged 57, and was buried in the private grave of his father-in-law, Mr. Francis Nicholson, in the Brompton Cemetery, a sketch of which, by Mr. Fairholt, appears in these pages. It should not be forgotten that Mr. Crofton Croker was a contributor to the ‘Amulet,’ ‘Literary Souvenir,’ and ‘Friendship’s Offering,’ as well as (more extensively) to

the ‘Literary Gazette,’ when that journal possessed considerable influence under the editorship of W. Jerdan. Mr. Croker also edited for the Camden and Percy Societies (in the formation of which he took an active part) many works of antiquarian interest. He was connected, also, with the British Archæological Association as one of the secretaries (1844–9) under the presidency of Lord Albert Conyngham (the late Lord Londesborough). That recently-deceased nobleman was one of Mr. Croker’s most attached friends, and opposite his Lordship’s pew in Grimston church, Yorkshire, a neat marble tablet was erected bearing the following inscription: “In memory of Thomas Crofton Croker, Esq., the amiable and accomplished author of the ‘Fairy Legends of Ireland,’ and other works, Literary and Antiquarian. This tablet is erected by his friend Lord Londesborough, 1855.”

To enumerate all the societies and institutions of which Crofton Croker was a member, honorary or otherwise, would in these pages be superfluous; but one society shall be here especially mentioned as originating with Mr. Croker and a few members of the Society of Antiquaries. In 1828 a club was established, composed of a select few F.S.A.’s, in consequence of an excursion during the summer to the site, which, in the time of the Romans, had been occupied by the city of Noviomagus. In a field at Keston, near Bromley Common in Kent, Mr. Croker had learned that the remains of a Roman building were apparent above the grass, and it was to ascertain this fact that the excursion was undertaken. An excavation was made, and a few fragments of Roman pottery and a stone coffin were discovered. From

this circumstance the club was called the Noviomagian Society. Mr. Croker was elected its president, and although most of the original members had died off, he continued in that office until within a very few months of his death. There are amongst them at the present time many highly-valued friends of their late president, who succeed in keeping up their meetings in the true Noviomagian spirit. Long may they be spared to assemble together, occasionally introducing fresh life to the little society, that its pleasant gatherings may not be allowed to die out! A portrait of Mr. Croker was painted a few years before his death by Mr. Stephen Pearce (the artist of the ‘Arctic Council’). It is a characteristic and an admirable likeness. The next best is that in Maclise’s well-known picture of ‘All Hallow Eve’ (exhibited in the Royal Academy in 1833), on which Lover, in describing the engraving, has remarked: “And who is that standing behind them?—he seems ‘far more genteel’ than the rest of the company. Why, ’tis Crofton Croker, or, as he is familiarly called amongst his friends, ‘The honourable member for fairy-land.’ There you are, Crofty, my boy! with your note-book in your hand; and maybe you won’t pick up a trifle in such good company.” It may be added, that Mr. Croker was for many years one of the registrars of the Royal Literary Fund. And now, in drawing this slight sketch of Mr. Croker’s life to a close, the writer hopes that it may not be an uninteresting addition to the present volume.

T. F. D. C.

CHAPTER I.

knightsbridge to the bell and horns, brompton.

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

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

“We have all by heart,” observes the author of the Curiosities of Literature, “the true and delightful reflection of Johnson on local associations, where the scene we tread suggests to us the men or the deeds which have left their celebrity to the spot. ‘We are in the presence of their fame, and feel its influence.’” How often have I fancied, if the walls by which thousands now daily pass without a glance of recognition or regard, if those walls could speak, and name some of their former inmates, how great would be the regret of many at having overlooked houses which they would perhaps have made a pilgrimage of miles to behold, as associated with the memory of persons whose names history, literature, or art has embalmed for posterity, or as the scene of circumstances treasured up in recollection!

If the feelings could be recalled, and faithfully recorded, which the dull brick walls that I cannot help regarding with interest must have witnessed, what a romantic chapter

in the history of the human mind would be preserved for study and reflection!—

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

The difficulty, however, is incredible of procuring accurate information as to any thing which has not been chronicled at the moment. None but those who have had occasion to search after a date, or examine into a particular fact, can properly estimate their value, or the many inquiries that have to be made to ascertain what at first view would appear to be without embarrassment,—so deceptive is the memory, and so easy a thing is it to forget, especially numbers and localities, the aspect and even names of which change with a wonderful degree of rapidity in the progress of London out of town. Thus many places become daily more and more confused, and at last completely lose their identity, to the regret of the contemplative mind, which loves to associate objects with the recollection of those who “have left their celebrity to the spot.”

These considerations have induced the writer to arrange his notes, and illustrate them by such sketches as will aid the recognition of the points mentioned, the appearance of which must be familiar to all who have journeyed between London and Fulham,—a district containing, beside the ancient village of that name, and remarkable as adjacent to the country seat of the Bishop of London, two smaller villages, called Walham Green and Parson’s Green. The

former of which stands on the main London road, the latter on the King’s Road,—which roads form nearly parallel lines between Fulham and the metropolis. For all information respecting the neighbourhood of Knightsbridge the reader may be referred to a recently published work “The Memorials of the Hamlet of Knightsbridge, with notices of its immediate neighbourhood,” by the late Henry George Davis, edited by Charles Davis (Russell Smith).

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

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

The Main Fulham Road passes for about a mile through a district called by the general name of Brompton, which

is a hamlet in the parish of Kensington. The house, No. 14 Queen’s Buildings, Knightsbridge, on the left-hand or south side of the road,

From 1792 to 1797 this house was described as No. 14 Queen’s Buildings, Knightsbridge; but in the latter year the address was changed to No. 14 Knightsbridge Green. [25a] In 1800 it was known as No. 14 Knightsbridge, and in 1803 as No. 14 Queen’s Row, Knightsbridge. [25b] In 1810 as Gloucester Buildings, Brompton. [25c] In 1811 as Queen’s Buildings. [25d] In 1828 as Gloucester Row. [25e] In 1831 as Gloucester Buildings; [25f] and it has now reverted to its original name of Queen’s Buildings, Knightsbridge, in opposition to Queen’s Buildings, Brompton, the division being Hooper’s Court, if, indeed, the original name was not

Queen’s Row, Knightsbridge, as this in 1772 was the address of William Wynne Ryland (the engraver who was hanged for forgery in 1783). When houses began to be built on the same side of the way, beyond Queen’s Row, the term “Buildings” appears to have been assumed as a distinction from the row west of Hooper’s Court; which row would naturally have been considered as a continuation, although, in 1786, the Royal Academy Catalogue records Mr. J. G. Huck, an exhibitor, as residing at No. 11 Gloster Row, Knightsbridge.

These six alterations of name within half a century, to say nothing of the previous changes, illustrate the extreme difficulty which attends precise local identification in London, and are merely offered at the very starting point as evidence at least of the desire to be accurate.

About the year 1800, the late residence of Mr. Nattes became the lodgings of Arthur Murphy, too well known as a literary character of the last century to require here more than the mere mention of his name, even to those who are accustomed to associate every thing with its pecuniary value; as Murphy’s portrait, painted by Sir Joshua Reynolds for Mr. Thrale, sold at Christie’s in the sale of Mr. Watson Taylor’s pictures (June, 1823), for £94 10s. Murphy had prepared his translation of Tacitus [26] for the press, at his house on Hammersmith Terrace (the last at the west end); but declining health and circumstances induced his removal into lodgings near London, at “14 Knightsbridge.” From these apartments “he soon removed to others in Brompton Row, where he did not

remain long, not liking the mistress of the house, but returned to his former residence (No. 14), where he resided till the time of his death.” In 1803, the late Lord Sidmouth (then Mr. Addington), conferred a pension of £200 a-year on Murphy, “to mark the sense” his majesty entertained “of literary merit, particularly when accompanied with sound principles and unquestionable character;” which gracious mark of royal favour Murphy acknowledged on the 2nd of March, from “14 Queen’s Row, Knightsbridge.” Here he wrote his life of Garrick, [27a] a work which, notwithstanding Mr. Foot’s ingenious defence of it, shews that Garrick’s life remains to be written, and that Murphy’s intellectual powers were, at the time when he composed it, in a state of decay.

Murphy, according to his biographer, “possessed the first and second floors of a very pleasant, neat house, where there was a long gravel walk in the garden; [27b] and though his library had been much diminished, yet, in the remaining part, he took care to reserve the Elzevir editions of the classics. Mrs. Mangeon (the mistress of the house) was a neat and intelligent woman, and Mr. Murphy secured her friendship by giving her son a presentation to Christ’s Hospital. Anne Dunn, his own servant-maid, was an excellent servant, honest, faithful, and attentive; so that, what with the services he had rendered to the mistress of the house, and what with the intrinsic fidelity of his female domestic, he could put the whole family into

a state of requisition, and command an elegant table, as well as ready attention, upon any particular occasion. Such was the situation of a man of genius, and an author, in the decline of a long life, and in a country at the highest pitch of grandeur and wealth. But it must be remembered, that the comforts he possessed were not derived from the profits of literature.”

During the last year of Arthur Murphy’s life he possessed a certain income of £500, and added to this was £150 for the copyright of his Tacitus, which, however, was less than half the sum he had been frequently offered for it. The translation of Sallust, which Murphy left unfinished, was completed by Thomas Moore, and published in 1807.

Murphy appears to have perfectly reconciled his mind to the stroke of death. He made his will thirteen days previous to it, and dictated and signed plain and accurate orders respecting his funeral. He directed his library of books and all his pictures to be sold by auction, and the money arising therefrom, together with what money he might have at his bankers or in his strong box, he bequeathed to his executor, Mr. Jesse Foot, of Dean Street, Soho. To Mrs. Mangeon (his landlady) he gave “all his prints in the room one pair of stairs and whatever articles of furniture” he had in her house, “the bookcase excepted.” And to his servant, Anne Dunn, “twenty guineas, with all his linen and wearing apparel.” After the completion of this will, Murphy observed, “I have been preparing for my journey to another region, and now do not care how soon I take my departure.” And on the

day of his death (18th June, 1805) he frequently repeated the lines of Pope:—

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

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

Humphrey, who was portrait-painter in crayons to George III., and in 1790 was elected member of the Royal Academy, resided, in 1792 and 1793, at No. 19 Queen’s Buildings, Knightsbridge; but whether this was the fifth house beyond Nattes’, or the No. 19 Queen’s Buildings, now called Brompton Road (Mitchell’s, a linen-draper’s shop), I am unable, after many inquiries, to determine. It will be remembered that Dr. Walcott (Peter Pindar) introduced Opie to the patronage of Humphrey, and there are many allusions to “honest Ozias,” as he was called in the contemporary literature.

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

is the comment of Owen Cambridge; and Hayley says,

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

A portrait of Ozias Humphrey, painted by Romney in 1772, is preserved at Knowle, a memorial of the visit of those artists to the Duke of Dorset. It has been twice engraved, and the private plate from it, executed by

Caroline Watson in 1784, is a work of very high merit. In 1799 Humphrey resided at No. 13 High Row, Knightsbridge, nearly opposite to the house in which Murphy lodged, and there, with the exception of the last few months, he passed the remainder of his life.

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

Queen’s Buildings, Brompton, are divided, rather than terminated, at No. 28 (Green’s, an earthenware-shop) by New Street, leading into Hans Place—“snug Hans Place,” which possesses one house, at least, that all literary pilgrims would desire to turn out of their direct road to visit. Miss Landon, alluding to “the fascinations of Hans Place,” playfully observes, “vivid must be the imagination that could discover them—

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

had a life of duller calm than the indwellers of our square.” Hans Place may also be approached from Sloane Street, and No. 22 Hans Place, is the south-east corner.

The editor of the memoirs of L. E. L. records two or three circumstances which give a general interest to Hans Place. Here it was that Miss Landon was born on the 14th August, 1802, in the house now No. 25; and “it is remarkable that the greater portion of L. E. L.’s existence was passed on the spot where she was born. From Hans Place and its neighbourhood she was seldom absent, and then not for any great length of time; until within a year or two of her death, she had there found her home, not indeed in the house of her birth, but close by. Taken occasionally during the earlier years of childhood into the

country, it was to Hans Place she returned. Here some of her school time was passed. When her parents removed she yet clung to the old spot, and, as her own mistress, chose the same scene for her residence. When one series of inmates quitted it, she still resided there with their successors, returning continually after every wandering, ‘like a blackbird to his nest.’”

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

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

It is the remark of Miss Landon herself, that “a history

of the how and where works of imagination have been produced would often be more extraordinary than the works themselves.” “Her own case,” observes a female friend, “is, in some degree, an illustration of perfect independence of mind over all external circumstances. Perhaps to the L. E. L., of whom so many nonsensical things have been said, as that she should write with a crystal pen, dipped in dew, upon silver paper, and use for pounce the dust of a butterfly’s wing, a dilettante of literature would assign for the scene of her authorship a fairy-like boudoir, with rose-coloured and silver hangings, fitted with all the luxuries of a fastidious taste. How did the reality agree with this fancy sketch?

In this attic did the muse of L. E. L. dream of and describe music, moonlight, and roses, and “apostrophise loves, memories, hopes, and fears,” with how much ultimate appetite for invention or sympathy may be judged from her declaration that, “there is one conclusion at which I have arrived, that a horse in a mill has an easier life than an author. I am fairly fagged out of my life.”

Miss Roberts, who had resided in the same house with Miss Landon, prefixed a brief memoir to a collection of poems by that lamented lady, which appeared shortly after her death, her own mournful lines—

“Alas! hope is not prophecy—we dream,
But rarely does the glad fulfilment come;
We leave our land, and we return no more.”

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

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

“These were happy days, and little boded the premature and melancholy fate which awaited them in foreign climes. We believe,” says the editor of the ‘Literary Gazette,’ “that it was the example of the literary pursuits of Miss Landon which stimulated Miss Roberts to try her powers as an author, and we remember having the gratification to assist her in launching her first essay—an historical production, [35] which reflected high credit on her talents, and at once established her in a fair position in the ranks of literature. Since then she has been one of the most prolific of our female writers, and given to the public a number of works of interest and value. The expedition to India, on which she unfortunately perished, was undertaken with comprehensive views towards the further illustration of the East, and portions of her descriptions have appeared as she journeyed to her destination in periodicals devoted to Asiatic pursuits.”

The influence of Miss Landon’s literary popularity upon the mind of Miss Roberts very probably caused that lady to desire similar celebrity. Indeed, so imitative are the impulses of the human mind, that it may fairly be questioned if Miss Landon would ever have attuned her lyre had she mot been in the presence of Miss Mitford’s and Miss Rowden’s “fame, and felt its influence.” Miss Mitford has chronicled so minutely all the sayings and doings of her school-days in Hans Place (H. P., as she mysteriously writes it), that she admits us at once behind the scenes. She describes herself as sent there (we will not supply the date, but presume it to be somewhere about 1800) “a petted child of ten years old, born and bred in the country, and as shy as a hare.” The schoolmistress, a Mrs. S---, “seldom came near us. Her post was to sit all day, nicely dressed, in a nicely-furnished drawing-room, busy with some piece of delicate needlework, receiving mammas, aunts, and godmammas, answering questions, and administering as much praise as she conscientiously could—

perhaps a little more. In the school-room she ruled, like other rulers, by ministers and delegates, of whom the French teacher was the principal.” This French teacher, the daughter of an émigré of distinction, left, upon the short peace of Amiens, to join her parents in an attempt to recover their property, in which they succeeded. Her successor is admirably sketched by Miss Mitford; and the mutual antipathy which existed between the French and English teacher, in whom we at once recognise Miss Rowden:—

“Never were two better haters. Their relative situations had probably something to do with it, and yet it was wonderful that two such excellent persons should so thoroughly detest each other. Miss R.’s aversion was of the cold, phlegmatic, contemptuous, provoking sort; she kept aloof, and said nothing. Madame’s was acute, fiery, and loquacious; she not only hated Miss R., but hated for her sake knowledge, and literature, and wit, and, above all, poetry, which she denounced as something fatal and contagious, like the plague.”

Miss Mitford’s literary and dramatic tastes seem to have been acquired from Miss Rowden, whom she describes as “one of the most charming women that she had ever known:”—

“The pretty word graziosa, by which Napoleon loved to describe Josephine, seemed made for her. She was full of a delicate grace of mind and person. Her little elegant figure and her fair mild face, lighted up so brilliantly by her large hazel eyes, corresponded exactly with the soft, gentle manners which were so often awakened into a delightful playfulness, or an enthusiasm more charming still, by the impulse of her quick and ardent spirit. To be sure she had a slight touch of distraction about her (distraction French, not distraction English), an interesting absence of mind. She united in her own person all the sins of forgetfulness of all the young ladies; mislaid her handkerchief, her shawl, her gloves, her work, her music, her drawing, her scissors, her keys; would ask for a book when she held it in her hand, and set a whole class hunting for her thimble, whilst the said thimble was quietly perched upon her finger. Oh! with what a pitying scorn our exact and recollective Frenchwoman used to look down on such an incorrigible scatterbrain! But she was a poetess, as Madame said, and what could you expect better!”

Such was Miss Landon’s schoolmistress; and under this lady’s especial instruction did Miss Mitford pass the years 1802, 3, and 4; together they read “chiefly poetry;” and “besides the readings,” says Miss Mitford, “Miss R. compensated in another way for my unwilling application. She took me often to the theatre; whether as an extra branch of education, or because she was herself in the height of a dramatic fever, it would be invidious to inquire. The effect may be easily foreseen; my enthusiasm soon equalled her own; we began to read Shakspeare, and read nothing else.”

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

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

Returning from Hans Place to the Fulham Road through New Street, No. 7 may he pointed out as the house formerly occupied by Chalon, “animal painter to the royal family;” and No. 6 as the residence of the Right Hon. David R. Pigot, the late Solicitor-General for Ireland, while (in 1824–25) studying in the chambers of the late Lord Chief-Justice Tindal, for the profession of which his pupil rapidly became an eminent member.

Brompton was formerly an airy outlet to which the

citizen, with his spouse, were wont to resort for an afternoon of rustic enjoyment. It had also the reputation of being a locality favourable to intrigue. Steele, shrewdly writing on the 27th July, 1713, says:—

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

“Yours ever,
“Richard Steele.” [38a]

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

Brompton Row on the north, or right-hand side of the main Fulham Road, now consists of fifty-five respectable-looking houses, uniform, or nearly so, in appearance; and, according to the statements in the ‘Gentleman’s Magazine’ [38b] and Mr. Faulkner’s ‘History of Kensington’ [38c] here died Arthur Murphy. But although this was not the case, in Brompton Row have lived and died authors, and actors, and artists, whose performances deserve full as much consideration from posterity.

No. 14 Brompton Row was the abode for more than ten years (1820 to 1831) of John Vendramini, a distinguished engraver.

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

At No. 23 Brompton Row resided Mr. Walter Hamilton, who, in 1819, published, in two volumes 4to, ‘A Geographical, Statistical, and Historical Description of Hindostan and the Adjacent Country;’ according to Lowndes’ ‘Bibliographer’s Manual,’ “an inestimable compilation, containing a more full, detailed, and faithful picture of the whole of India than any former work on the subject.”

Rawstorne Street leads to Montpellier Square (built about 1837). In this square, No. 11, resides Mr. F. W. Fairholt, the distinguished artist and antiquary, to whose pencil and for much valuable information the editor of these pages is greatly indebted; and No. 38 may be mentioned as the residence of Mr. Walter Lacy the favourite actor.

Mrs. Liston, the widow of the comedian, resided at No. 35 Brompton Row, and No. 45 was the residence of the ingenious Count Rumford, the early patron of Sir Humphry Davy. The Count occupied it between the years 1799 and 1802, when he finally left England for France, where he married the widow of the famous chemist, Lavoisier, and died in 1814. Count Rumford’s name was Benjamin Thompson, or Thomson. He was a native of the small town of Rumford (now Concord, in New England), and obtained the rank of major in the Local Militia. In the war with America he rendered important services to

the officers commanding the British army, and coming to England was employed by Lord George Germaine, and rewarded with the rank of a provincial lieutenant-colonel, which entitled him to half-pay.

“As his own household hearth.”

No. 45 was distinguished some years ago by peculiar projecting windows, now removed, outside of the ordinary windows—an experimental contrivance by Count Rumford, it is said, for raising the temperature of his rooms.

The same house, in 1810, was inhabited by the Rev.

William Beloe, the translator of Herodotus, and the author of various works between the years 1783 and 1812. In his last publication, ‘The Anecdotes of Literature,’ Mr. Beloe says, “He who has written and published not less than forty volumes, which is my case, may well congratulate himself, first, that Providence has graciously spared him for so long a period; secondly, that sufficient health and opportunity have been afforded; and, lastly, that he has passed through a career so extended and so perilous without being seriously implicated in personal or literary hostilities.” It is strange that a man who could feel thus should immediately have entered upon the composition of a work which appeared as a posthumous publication in 1817, under the title of ‘The Sexagenarian; or, the Recollections of a Literary Life;’ and which contains the following note:—

“Dr. Parr branded Beloe as an ingrate and a slanderer. He says, ‘The worthy and enlightened Archdeacon Nares disdained to have any concern in this infamous work.’ The Rev. Mr. Rennell, of Kensington, could know but little of Beloe; but, having read his slanderous book, Mr. R., who is a sound scholar, an orthodox clergyman, and a most animated writer, would have done well not to have written a sort of postscript. From motives of regard and respect for Beloe’s amiable widow, Dr. Parr abstained from refuting B.’s wicked falsehoods; but Dr. Butler, of Shrewsbury, repelled them very ably in the ‘Monthly Review.’”

At No. 46 Brompton Row, Mr. John Reeve, an exceedingly popular low comedian, died, on the 24th of January, 1838, at the early age of forty. Social habits led to habits of intemperance, and poor John was the Bottle Imp of every theatre he ever played in. “The last time I saw him,”

says Mr. Bunn, in his ‘Journal of the Stage,’ “he was posting at a rapid rate to a city dinner, and, on his drawing up to chat, I said, ‘Well, Reeve, how do you find yourself to-day?’ and he returned for answer, ‘The lord-mayor finds me to-day!’”

Brompton Grove commences on the south, or left-hand side of the main Fulham Road, immediately beyond the Red Lion (before mentioned as opposite to 28 Brompton Row), and continues to the Bunch of Grapes public-house, which was pulled down in August, and rebuilt in September, 1844, opposite to No. 54 Brompton Row, and in the wall of which public-house was placed a stone, with “Yeoman’s Row, 1767,” engraved upon it—the name of a street leading to the “Grange,” and, in 1794, the address of Michael Novosielski, the architect of the Italian Opera House. In that year he exhibited, in the Royal Academy, three architectural designs, viz:—

“558. Elevation of the Opera House, Haymarket;

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

“663. Ceiling of the New Concert Room at the Opera House.”

But of Novosielski and the Grange more hereafter.

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

Upper Brompton Grove, or that division of the Grove nearest London, consists of seven houses, of which No. 4

was the abode of Major Shadwell Clerke, who has reflected literary lustre upon the ‘United Service,’ by the able and judicious manner in which he conducted for so many years the periodical journal distinguished by that name. Major Clerke died 19th April, 1849.

Lower Brompton Grove consisted of three houses only in 1844, numbered 8, 9, and 10; the 11 of former days being of superior size, and once known as “Grove House.” The 12, which stood a considerable way behind it, as the “Hermitage,” and the 13, as the “House next to the Bunch of Grapes,” all of which, except No. 8, claim a passing remark.

In No. 9, where he had long resided, died, on the 12th of August, 1842, Mr. John Sidney Hawkins, at the age of eighty-five. He was the eldest son of Sir John Hawkins, the well-known author of the ‘History of Music,’ and one of the biographers of Dr. Johnson. Mr. Hawkins was brother of Letitia Matilda Hawkins, the popular authoress, and a lady of whom the elder Disraeli once remarked, that she was “the redeeming genius of her family.” Mr. Hawkins, however, was an antiquary of considerable learning, research, and industry; but his temper was sour and jealous, and, throughout his whole and long literary career, from 1782 to 1814, he appears to have been embroiled in trifling disputes and immaterial vindications of his father or himself.

No. 10 Brompton Grove, now occupied by the “Sisters of Compassion,” was the residence of James Petit Andrews, Esq., younger brother of Sir Joseph Andrews, Bart., and one of the magistrates of Queen Square Police Office; a

gentleman remarkable for his humane feelings as well as for his literary taste. His exertions, following up those of Jonas Hanway, were the occasion of procuring an Act of Parliament in favour of chimney-sweep apprentices. Mr. Andrews was the author of a volume of ancient and modern anecdotes in 1789, to which a supplemental volume appeared the following year. He also published a ‘History of Great Britain, connected with the Chronology of Europe;’ [45a] and a continuation of Henry’s ‘History of Great Britain:’ [45b] soon after the appearance of which he died, on the 6th of August, 1797.

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

In 1781 he was appointed Member of the Supreme Council of Bengal, and when proceeding to the East Indies, in the ‘Valentine,’ Indiaman, distinguished himself in an action with the French fleet in Praya Bay. Sir John, who was a very large man, to encourage the sailors to stand to their guns, promised and paid them from his own pocket five guineas a man, which, coupled with his bravery during the action, so pleased the seamen, that one of

them swore “his soul must be as big as his body,” and the jokes occasioned by this burst of feeling terminated only with Sir John Macpherson’s life. “Fine soles!—soles, a match for Macpherson’s!” was a Brompton fishmonger’s greeting to Sir John, etc. In the neighbourhood of Brompton he was known by the sobriquet of “the Gentle Giant,” from his usually riding a very small pony, flourishing in the most determined manner a huge oak stick over the little animal’s head, but, of course, never touching it with his club.

Upon the after-dinner conversation at Grove House of Mr. Hugh Boyd rests chiefly that gentleman’s claim to be considered as one of the many authors of ‘Junius.’ His host, having temporarily retired from table, Boyd’s words were, “that Sir John Macpherson little knew he was entertaining in his mansion a political writer, whose sentiments were once the occasion of a chivalrous appeal from Sir John to arms,”—immediately adding, “I am the author of ‘Junius.’” The will of Sir John Macpherson is a remarkable document, and contains the following tribute to the character of George IV.:—

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

The large room on the east side of Grove House, shown in the annexed sketch, was used as the drawing-room, and measured thirty-two feet by eighteen. It was built by Sir John Macpherson for the purpose of entertaining the Prince Regent.

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

Mr. Wilberforce remained there about a year, and his successor in the tenancy was Mr. Jerdan, the agreeable and well-known editor of the ‘Literary Gazette’ (1817–50). This house, pulled down in 1846, stood upon the ground which now forms the road entrance to Ovington Square.

A narrow lane, which ran down by the west side of Grove House, led to the Hermitage, a retreat of the much admired Madame Catalani during her sojourn this country, and subsequently converted into an asylum for insane persons. This building was pulled down in 1844, and Grove Place has been erected on its site.

In the house (No. 13 Brompton Grove) which stood a little way back from the road, between Grove House and the Grapes public-house, and which was taken down in December, 1844, and in the previous June, when sketched, occupied by a stone-mason, Mr. Banim lodged from May, 1822, to October, 1824.

“To his own mind had lived a mystery,”

the contemporary rival of Banim, as an Irish novelist and dramatist, should have immediately succeeded him in the tenancy of “13 Brompton Grove,” as this house was sometimes called.

“About this period (1825) he [Griffin] took quiet, retired lodgings, at a house at Brompton, now a stonemason’s, close by Hermitage Lane, which separated it from the then residence of the editor of the ‘Literary Gazette,’ and a literary intercourse rather than a personal intimacy, though of a most agreeable nature, grew up between them.” [48]

On the 10th of November, 1824, Griffin, writing to his brother, commences a letter full of literary gossip with,—

“Since my last I have visited Mr. J--- several times. The last time, he wished me to dine with him, which I happened not to be able to do; and was very sorry for it, for his acquaintance is to me a matter of great importance, not only from the engine he wields—and a formidable one it is, being the most widely-circulated journal in Europe—but, also, because he is acquainted with all the principal literary characters of the day, and a very pleasant kind of man.”

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.”

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.”

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.”

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.

Brompton Square is 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.

“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 extraordinary jeux-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 to choose, 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. William

Farren 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.

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

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

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

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

“The place is purified 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 appears
Carved by affection’s memory,
Wet with affection’s tears.

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

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

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

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

Now (1860) the grave-stone has received two additional inscriptions, and the character of the upright stone has been altered.

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

also of
iohn reeve esq.
uncle of the above
obiit jany. 22nd. 1831 aged 71.

In the central path, leading from the Church Tower, is the grave of Harriet Elizabeth Farren, who died 16th of

June, 1857, aged 68. She made her first appearance in London in 1813, as Desdemona.

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 intention

of 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.

CHAPTER II.

from the bell and horns, brompton, to little chelsea.

To return to the continuation of Michael’s Place. It is divided between Nos. 11 and 12 by Michael’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”

was certain of being wafted to the Grange, which was got rid of in consequence.

From Michael’s Grove, Brompton Crescent is 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, chiefly

caused 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 the

mantel-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 time

and 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 of Michael’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.

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 come

to 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 his protégé, 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 Court

of 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 the

composition 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 case

of 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 his

professional 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 excellency will (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 likewise

favourably 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

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,”

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 Place is 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.

“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 the

conversation 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 a

melancholy 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.”

Nearly opposite to Pelham Crescent is Pond 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.

Signor Carlo Rovedino, a bass singer of some reputation, also lies buried in this churchyard. He was a native of Milan, and died on the 6th of October, 1822, aged seventy-one. The remains of Blanchard and Egerton, two actors of established character, repose here side by side. William Blanchard was what is termed “a useful comedian;” whatever part was assigned to him, he made the most of it. At the age of seventeen, he joined a provincial theatrical company at York, his native city, and in 1800, after fourteen years of laborious country practice, appeared at Covent Garden as Bob Acres in ‘The Rivals,’ and Crack in ‘The Turnpike Gate.’ At the time of his death, 9th May, 1835, he resided at No. 1, Camera Square, Chelsea. Blanchard had dined with a friend at Hammersmith, and left him to return home about six in the evening of Tuesday. On the following morning, at three o’clock, poor Blanchard was found lying in a ditch by the roadside, having been, as is supposed, seized by a fit; in the course of the evening he was visited by another attack, which was succeeded by one more violent on the Thursday, and on the following day he expired.

Daniel Egerton—“oh! kingly Egerton”—personified for many years on the stage of Covent Garden all the royal personages about whom there was great state and talk, but who had little to say for themselves. He was respected

as being, and without doubt was, an industrious and an honest man. Having saved some hardly-earned money, Egerton entered into a theatrical speculation with a brother actor, Mr. Abbott, and became manager of one of the minor houses, by which he was ruined, and died in 1835, under the pressure of his misfortunes. His widow, whose representations of the wild women of Scott’s novels, Madge Wildfire and Meg Merrilies, have distinguished her, died on the 10th August, 1847, at Brompton, aged sixty-six, having supported herself nobly amidst the troubles of her latter days. Mrs. Egerton was the daughter of the Rev. Peter Fisher, rector of Torrington, in Devonshire. She appeared at the Bath theatre soon after the death of her father in 1803, and in 1811 made her first appearance at Covent Garden Theatre as Juliet.

On the right-hand side, a little off the main road, is Onslow Square, which was built upon the site of the extensive house and grounds once occupied as a lunatic asylum. The row of large trees now in the centre of the square was formerly the avenue from the main road to this house. Mr. Henry Cole, C.B. lives at No. 17, Onslow Square; he is well known to the public as a member of the Executive Committee of the Crystal Palace, a promoter of art manufactures, and the author of numerous works published under the nom de plume of “Felix Summerly.” No. 31 is the residence of Mr. and Mrs. Theodore Martin (better known as Miss Helen Faucit). At No. 34 resides Baron Marochetti, the celebrated sculptor, who settled in England after the French revolution of February, 1848, and has obtained high patronage here. At the back of the house is

the studio, with an entrance from the main road, where the avenue of trees continues. W. M. Thackeray, the popular writer, lives at No. 36, and Rear-Admiral Fitzroy, the distinguished geographer and navigator, is at No. 38.

A few yards beyond Sydney Place (leading into Onslow Square), on the opposite side of the road, is Sydney Street, leading direct to St. Luke’s Church, the late incumbent of which, the Rev. Charles Kingsley, who died on 29th February, 1860, aged 78, was the father of the well-known popular writer, the Rev. Charles Kingsley, of Eversley Rectory, Hants. Sydney Street was originally called Upper Robert Street, as being the continuation of Robert Street, Chelsea; but, under some notion of raising its respectability, the inhabitants agreed to change the name. It happened, however, that the corner house adjoining the Fulham Road, on the western side, was occupied by a surgeon, who imagined that the change in name might be injurious to his practice, and he took advantage of his position to retain the old name on his house. Thus for some time the street was known by both names, but that of Upper Robert Street is now entirely abandoned. The opposite corner house, No. 2, Sydney Street, was for some years occupied by the Rev. Dr. Biber, author of the ‘Life of Pestalozzi,’ and editor and proprietor of the ‘John Bull’ newspaper. On his selling the ‘John Bull,’ it became incorporated with the ‘Britannia.’

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

Robert Street, which connects the main Fulham Road

with the King’s Road, passes directly before the west side of the spacious burial-ground, and immediately opposite to the tower of St. Luke’s Church; at No. 17 formerly resided Mr. Henry Warren, the President of the New Society of Water-Colour Painters.

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

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

In 1813, when obliged to abandon his arduous profession, in consequence of over-mental excitement, the sum of £8,000 was voted by Parliament, upon the motion of Mr. Whitbread, for the purchase of Mr. Hargrave’s law books, which were enriched with valuable notes, and for 300 MSS., to be deposited in the library of Lincoln’s Inn, for public use. As documents of national historical importance may be particularised, Mr. Hargrave’s first publication, in 1772, entitled ‘The Case of James Somerset, a Negro, lately determined by the Court of King’s Bench, wherein it is attempted to demonstrate the present unlawfulness of Domestic Slavery in England;’ his ‘Three Arguments in the two causes in Chancery on the last Will of Peter Thellusson, Esq., with Mr. Morgan’s

Calculation of the Accumulation under the Trusts of the Will, 1799;’ and his ‘Opinion in the Case of the Duke of Athol in respect to the Isle of Man.’

Opposite to York Place was a fine, open, airy piece of ground to which Mr. Curtis, the eminent naturalist, removed his botanical garden from Lambeth Marsh, as a more desirable locality. Upon the south-east portion of this nursery-ground the first stone was laid by H.R.H. Prince Albert, on the 11th July, 1844, of an hospital for consumption and diseases of the chest, and which was speedily surrounded by houses on all sides; probably a circumstance not contemplated at the time the ground was secured.

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

Mr. Curtis, whose death has been already mentioned, was the son of a tanner, and was born at Alton, in Hampshire, in 1746. He was bound apprentice to his grandfather, a quaker apothecary of that town, whose house was contiguous to the Crown Inn, where the botanical knowledge of John Lagg, the hostler, seems to have excited rivalry in the breast of young Curtis. In the course of events he

became assistant to Mr. Thomas Talwin, an apothecary in Gracechurch Street, of the same religious persuasion as his grandfather, and succeeded Mr. Talwin in his business. Mr. Curtis’s love of botanical science, however, increased with his knowledge. He connected with it the study of entomology, by printing, in 1771, ‘Instructions for Collecting and Preserving Insects,’ and in the following year a translation of the ‘Fundamenta Entomologiæ’ of Linnæus. At this time he rented a very small garden for the cultivation of British plants, “near the Grange Road, at the bottom of Bermondsey Street,” and here it was that he conceived the design of publishing his great work, ‘The Flora Londinensis.’

“The Grange Road Garden was soon found too small for his extensive ideas. He, therefore, took a larger piece of ground in Lambeth Marsh, where he soon assembled the largest collection of British plants ever brought together into one place. But there was something uncongenial in the air of this place, which made it extremely difficult to preserve sea plants and many of the rare annuals which are adapted to an elevated situation,—an evil rendered worse every year by the increased number of buildings around. This led his active mind, ever anxious for improvement, to inquire for a more favourable soil and purer air. This, at length, he found at Brompton. Here he procured a spacious territory, in which he had the pleasure of seeing his wishes gratified to the utmost extent of reasonable expectation. Here he continued to his death;”

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

To support the slow sale of ‘The Flora Londinensis,’ Mr. Curtis, about 1787, started ‘The Botanical Magazine,’ which became one of the popular periodicals of the day, and Dr. Smith’s and Mr. Sowerby’s ‘English Botany’ was modelled after it.

What Mr. Curtis, as an individual, commenced, the Horticultural Society are endeavouring, as a body, to effect.

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

At the corner of Church Street (on the opposite side of the road) is an enclosure used as the burial-ground of the Westminster Congregation of the Jews. There is an inscription in Hebrew characters over the entrance, above which is an English inscription with the date of the erection of the building according to the Jewish computation a.m. 5576, or 1816 a.d. Beside it is the milestone denoting that it is 1½ mile from London.

The Queen’s Elm Turnpike, pulled down in 1848, was situated here, and took its name from the tradition that Queen Elizabeth, when walking out, attended by Lord Burleigh, [87a] being overtaken by a heavy shower of rain, found shelter here under an elm-tree. After the rain was over, the queen said, “Let this henceforward be called The Queen’s Tree.” The tradition is strongly supported by the parish records of Chelsea, as mention is made in 1586 (the 28th of Elizabeth, and probably the year of the occurrence), of a tree situated about this spot, “at the end of the Duke’s Walk,” [87b] as “The Queen’s Tree,” around which an arbour was built, or, in other words, nine young

elm-trees were planted, by one Bostocke, at the charge of the parish. The first mention of “The Queen’s Elm,” occurs in 1687, ninety-nine years after her Majesty had sheltered beneath the tree around which “an arbour was built,” when the surveyors of the highway were amerced in the sum of five pounds, “for not sufficiently mending the highway from the Queen Elm to the bridge, and from the Elm to Church Lane.” In a plan of Chelsea, from a survey made in 1664 by James Hamilton, and continued to 1717, a tree occupying the spot assigned to “The Queen’s Elm,” is called “The Cross Tree,” and in the vestry minutes it is designated as “The High Elm,” which latter name is used by Sir Hans Sloane in 1727. Bostocke’s arbour, however, had the effect of giving to the cross-road the name of “The Nine Elms.” Steele, on the 22nd June, 1711, writing to his wife, says, “Pray, on the receipt of this, go to the Nine Elms, and I will follow you within an hour.” [88] And so late as 1805, “The Nine Elms, Chelsea,” appeared as a local address in newspaper advertisements.

Again let me crave indulgence for minute attention to the changes of name; but much topographical difficulty often arises from this cause.

The stump of the royal tree, with, as is asserted, its root remaining in the ground undisturbed, a few years ago existed squared down to the dimensions of an ordinary post, about six feet in height and whitewashed. But the identity appears questionable, although a post, not improbably fashioned out of one of the nine elms which grew around it, stood till within the last few years in front of a

public-house named from the circumstance the Queen’s Elm, which house has been a little altered since the annexed sketch was made, by the introduction of a clock between the second floor windows, and the house adjoining has been rebuilt, overtopping it.

On the opposite or north side of the Fulham Road, some small houses are called Selwood Place, from being built on part of the ground of “Mr. Selwood’s nursery,” which is mentioned in 1712 by Mr. Narcissus Luttrell, of whom more hereafter, as one of the sources from which he derived a variety of pear, cultivated by him in his garden at Little Chelsea.

Chelsea Park, on the same side of the way with the Queen’s Elm public-house, and distant about a furlong from it, as seen from the road, appears a noble structure with a magnificent portico.