CHAPTER XXIX.
APSLEY HOUSE AND PARK LANE.
—"Tecto quum vidit in illo]
Magnum habitatorem."—Fuvenal.
Situation of Apsley House—George II. and the Apple-stall Keeper—Henry, Lord Apsley, purchases the Site, and builds a Mansion—The First
Earl Bathurst—Apsley House purchased by the Nation for the Duke of Wellington—Description of the Building—The Picture-Gallery—The Duke's Temporary Unpopularity, and Attack of the Mob on Apsley House—The Waterloo Banquets—The Waterloo Shield—Biographical Notice of the Duke of Wellington—Memorials of the Illustrious Duke—The "Curds and Whey House"—Hyde Park Corner—A Singular Panic—Park Lane—A Strange Abode—Park Lane Fountain—Holdernesse House—Great Stanhope Street—Tilney Street—Dean Street—Dorchester House—South Street—Chapel Street—Grosvenor House—The Grosvenor Family—Dudley House—Upper Brook
Street—Park Street—Green Street—Norfolk Street—The Murder of Lord William Russell—Camelford House.
Quitting May Fair, we now turn to the southwest, down Hamilton Place, in order to look in
upon Apsley House, with which we were obliged
to deal very briefly in our walk along the mansions
of Piccadilly. This house, so many years the residence of the late, and still the residence of the
present Duke of Wellington, forms a conspicuous
object on entering London from the west, occupying as it does the corner of Hyde Park and
Piccadilly. Its situation is one of the finest in
the metropolis, standing upon the rising ground
overlooking the parks, and commanding views
of the Kent and Surrey hills in the far distance.
Its site is said to have been a present from
George II. to a discharged soldier, named Allen,
who had fought under that king at Dettingen. His
wife here kept an apple-stall, which by the thrifty
couple was turned by degrees into a small cottage.
The story of this present has been often told, but
it will bear telling yet once again:—When London
did not exist so far as Knightsbridge, George II.,
as he was riding out one morning, met Allen, who
doubtless showed by his garments that he had once
belonged to the army; the king accosted him, and
found that he made his living by selling apples in a
small hut. "What can I do for you?" said the king.
"Please your majesty to give me a grant of
the bit of ground my hut stands on, and I
shall be happy." "Be happy," said the king,
and ordered him his request. Years rolled
on; the apple-man died, and left a son, who
from dint of industry became a respectable
attorney. The then Chancellor gave a lease
of the ground to a nobleman, as the apple-stall
had fallen to the ground. It being conceived the
ground had fallen to the Crown, a stately mansion
was soon raised, when the young attorney put
in claims; a small sum was offered as a compromise, and refused; finally, the sum of £450
per annum, ground rent, was settled upon.
HYDE PARK CORNER IN 1750. (From Mr. Crace's Collection.)
THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON IN 1842. (After a Sketch by "H. B.")
In 1784, Allen's son or other kin sold the
ground to Henry, Lord Apsley, Lord Chancellor,
afterwards second Lord Bathurst, who gave to the
house which he built upon it the name by which
it is still known. The mansion was originally of
red brick, and though solid and substantial, it had
no great architectural pretensions.
The father of Lord Chancellor
Apsley, the first Earl Bathurst, was
one of the most genial and agreeable of the friends of Pope, who
has referred to him in the often
quoted lines in terms of respect
and affection:—
"Oh! teach us, Bathurst, yet unspoiled by wealth,
That secret rare, between th' extremes to move
Of mad good-nature and of mean self-love."
His lordship appears to have been of a particularly
lively and cheerful disposition, and to have preserved his natural vivacity to the very last. To
within a month of his death, which happened on
the 16th of September, 1775, at the age of ninetyone, he constantly rode out on horseback for two
hours before dinner, and regularly drank his bottle
of claret or madeira after dinner. Some amusing
anecdotes have been told of this old Lord Bathurst,
which will bear telling over again. He used to
repeat often, with a smile, that Dr. Cheyne had
assured him, fifty years before, that he would not
live seven years longer, unless he abridged himself
of his wine. About two years before his death,
he invited several of his friends to spend a few
cheerful days with him at his seat, near Cirencester; and being, one evening, very loth to part
with them, his son (then Lord Chancellor) objected
to their sitting up any longer, adding, that health
and long life were best secured by regularity. The
earl suffered his son to retire, but as soon as he
left the room, exclaimed, "Come, my good friends,
since the old gentleman is gone to bed, I think we
may venture to crack another bottle!"
In 1820 the mansion was purchased by the
nation, and settled as an heirloom on the illustrious
dukedom of Wellington. It was then leasehold
only. Mr. Peter Cunningham tells us that "the
Crown's interest in Apsley House was sold to the
duke by indenture, dated the 15th of June, 1830,
for the sum of £9,530, the Crown reserving, however, a right to forbid the erection of any other
house or houses on the same site." The principal
front, next Piccadilly, consists of a centre with two
wings, having a portico of the Corinthian order,
raised upon a rusticated arcade of three apertures,
leading to the entrance hall. The west front consists of two wings; the centre slightly recedes, and
has four windows with a balcony. The front is
enclosed by a rich bronzed palisade, corresponding
with the gates to the grand entrance to the Park.
In the saloon is a colossal statue of Napoleon, by
Canova.
In 1828 the mansion was enlarged, and the
original exterior of red brick was faced with a
casing of Bath stone, designed by Mr. B. Wyatt.
At this time the front portico and the west wing
were added; but, says Mr. Peter Cunningham,
"the old house still remains intact, so much so,
indeed, that the hall door and knocker belonged to
the original Apsley House." In the upper part of
the west wing is the Waterloo Gallery, nearly a
hundred feet in length. This noble apartment is
splendidly decorated, and richly gilt. The ballroom extending the whole depth of the mansion,
and the small picture gallery, which together form
a suite, are both superb rooms. On the groundfloor, at the north-west angle, looking into the little
garden which divides the house from Hyde Park,
is the modest chamber used by the great Duke as
a bedroom to the last year of his life. It is plainly
furnished, with a small iron bedstead and a plain
writing table; a few books, which were the duke's
favourite companions, still remain where their great
master left them. This room was shown to the
public, along with the rest of the house, for a few
days in 1852, the year of the duke's death, and a
striking proof it gave of his simplicity and studied
avoidance of all that savoured of luxury. The
house contains several fine pictures, amongst others
a full-length portrait of George IV., in the Highland costume, by Sir David Wilkie. This picture
was damaged by a stone during the Reform Bill
riots, but the injury has been skilfully repaired.
There are also portraits of the Emperor Alexander
and the Kings of Prussia, France, and the Netherlands, and of several of the duke's companions-inarms, and pictures of the battles which he fought.
Among the latter is Sir William Allan's celebrated
painting of the "Battle of Waterloo, with Napoleon
in the Foreground," of which the duke is said to
have remarked that it was "good, very good; not
too much smoke." Then there are several portraits
of his great rival, Napoleon; also Wilkie's "Chelsea
Pensioners reading the Gazette of the Battle of
Waterloo," which was painted for the duke. The
gallery contains besides a collection of other subjects, sacred and profane, by the old masters and
painters. Dr. Waagen, in his work on "Art and
Artists in England," speaks with great enthusiasm
of the specimens of Sir David Wilkie in this collection; as also of a "Christ on the Mount of
Olives," by Corregio (captured in Spain from
Joseph Bonaparte); besides others by Velasquez,
Claude Lorraine, Jan Steen, and Teniers.
In the tumults which broke out in London in
1831 on account of the opposition of the duke
and the Tory party to the first Reform Bill, the
windows of Apsley House were broken by the
mob. In consequence of this, the duke had all
his windows cased with iron shutters, like those of
shop-fronts in our leading thoroughfares, and made
bullet-proof; and though often entreated to have
them removed when his popularity returned, he
steadily refused to allow the change to be made,
as he had no confidence in the smiles of popular
favour, and would often say that they were a
standing proof of the vanity of the world's applause.
With reference to the manner in which the fury of
the multitude in the above-mentioned year vented
itself on the duke, we glean a little intelligence in
the following extract from Mr. Raikes' "Journal:"—"I can remember well," he writes, "the time when
the duke returned to England, after his brilliant
campaigns, crowned with the battle of Waterloo;
at that time he was cheered by the people wherever
he went, and lauded to the skies. Afterwards, at
the period of the Reform Bill, the fickle people
forgot all his services, and constantly hooted him
in the streets. One morning, as he was coming
from the Tower on horseback, the rascally mob
attacked him with so much virulence and malice,
that he was exposed to considerable personal
danger in the street. I was in that year at a ball
given by him at Apsley House to King William IV.
and his Queen, when the mob were very unruly and
indecent in their conduct at the gates; and on the
following days they proceeded to such excesses,
that they broke the windows of Apsley House, and
did much injury to his property. It was then that
he caused to be put up those iron blinds to his
windows, which remain to this day as a record of
the people's ingratitude. Some time afterwards,
when he had regained all his popularity, and began
to enjoy that great and high reputation which he
now, it is to be hoped, will carry to the grave, he
was riding up Constitution Hill, in the Park, followed by an immense mob, who were cheering him
in every direction; he heard it all with the most
stoical indifference, never putting his horse out of a
walk, or seeming to regard them, till he leisurely
arrived at Apsley House, when he stopped at the
gate, turned round to the rabble, and then pointing
with his finger to the iron blinds which still closed
the windows, he made them a sarcastic bow, and
entered the court without saying a word."
The shutters remained outside the windows of
the house down to the death of the duke in 1852,
after which they were removed by his son and
successor.
On every 18th of June to the last, the duke
celebrated his Waterloo dinner in the large gallery.
Mr. Rush, in his "Court of London," mentions
dining here in the summer of 1821, when the king
(George IV.) was a guest, with most of the royal
dukes, the foreign ambassadors, and the duke's
old companions in arms. He thus describes the
after-dinner scene:—"The king sat on the right
hand of the duke. Just before the dessert courses,
the duke rose and gave as a toast, 'His Majesty.'
The guests all rose and drank it in silence, the king
also rising and bowing to the company. A few
minutes afterwards the king gave 'The Duke of
Wellington,' introducing his toast with a few remarks. The purport of these was, that had it not
been for the exertions of 'his friend upon his left'
(it was so that he spoke of the duke), he, the king,
might not have had the happiness of meeting those
whom he now saw around him at that table; it was,
therefore, with peculiar pleasure that he proposed
his health. The king spoke with great emphasis
and great apparent pleasure. The duke made no
reply, but took in respectful silence what was said.
The king himself continued sitting whilst he spoke,
as did the company in profound stillness under his
words."
These banquets were continued from year to year
down to the duke's death. As years rolled on, the
familiar faces gradually fell off, and the number of
chairs for his guests—his old comrades in arms—grew smaller and smaller.
AUTOGRAPH OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON.
On state occasions, the chief ornament of the
duke's sideboard was the celebrated shield presented to him by the City of London. It is of
pure gold, and was manufactured by Messrs.
Rundle and Bridge, from the designs of Thomas
Stothard, R.A. On it are represented, in basrelief and in alto, the most important of the duke's
victories; and it is said that its cost was nearly
£15,000. In fact, a dinner at Apsley House has
been almost described in anticipation by Virgil,
in a passage of his "Æneid," thus translated by
Dryden:—
"On Tyrian carpets, richly wrought, they dine;
With loads of massive plate the sideboards shine;
And antique vases, all of gold embossed
(The gold itself inferior to the cost
Of curious work), where, on the sides, were seen
The fights and figures of illustrious men,
From their first founder to the present Queen."
Down to within a few weeks of his death, the
duke used to ride out every afternoon, on his way
to the Horse Guards or the Park. His appearance, as he passed from the gate of Apsley House
into Piccadilly, at his accustomed hour, was one
of the sights of London which "country cousins"
were regularly taken to see; and, attired in a
plain blue frock-coat, with white waistcoat and
trousers, with a groom riding behind him, he was
"the observed of all observers." "A stranger could
recognise him amidst the peers by the marked
respect they showed to him. The duke was the
best-known and most popular man in London.
There were people constantly waiting at the entry
to the House of Lords, and not unusually in the
vicinity of the Horse Guards, to get a peep at him;
and he had been so long accustomed to acknowledge the homage paid to him by all classes, on his
appearing in public, that the habit had become
mechanical with him. Every well-bred person
raised his hat to the duke; and the duke, sitting
on horseback in his calm, impassive manner, and
looking straight before him, lifted two fingers
towards his hat to everybody. It was quite a
scene when he chanced to walk along Regent
Street, or some of the more frequented thoroughfares in the neighbourhood of the Horse Guards or
the Houses of Parliament. A knot of followers
instantly fell into his wake, augmenting as he proceeded. Shopkeepers rushed to their doors, or
peered out of their windows, to catch a glance of
him. 'The Duke!' passed from lip to lip. You
could see in the countenance of all sorts of people
as they approached and passed—and all sorts of
people is a wide word in the streets of London—a
pleased expression as they recognised the duke.
It was less striking to observe the respectful greetings of the better-conditioned classes, than the
cordial interest which the common people evinced
in the great captain. The omnibus-driver would
point him out to his outside passengers; the cad
on the steps behind, to his 'insides.' The butcher's
boy, as he dashed along on his pony, drew bridle
to look at the duke. Cabmen, cadgers, costermongers, and gamins, gentle and simple, young
and old, paused for a moment to gaze at the man
whom they delighted to honour."
To write a complete biography of "the duke"
would be altogether beyond our province, for to
do that would be almost equivalent to writing a
history of Europe during the time in which he
lived. Suffice it then for us to say that he was the
third son of Garrett, first Earl of Mornington, and
brother of the Marquis Wellesley, and that he was
born in 1769. Entering the army in 1787, he commenced his actual service in the field in 1794.
Shortly afterwards, he was returned to the Irish
Parliament for the borough of Trim, County Meath;
and in 1806, he was chosen to represent Newport
in the House of Commons. In the following year
he was appointed Chief Secretary for Ireland. His
Grace was for upwards of a quarter of a century
Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports, and besides the
honours and emoluments bestowed upon him for
his brilliant services by the British Government, he
received almost every foreign order of distinction,
to the number of seventeen. As a parliamentary
orator he spoke plain and to the point, and his
correspondence was remarkable for its laconic
brevity. To sum up, in the words of one of his
biographers, it may be said that "throughout his
long career, he appears the same honourable and
upright man, devoted to the service of his sovereign
and his country, and just and considerate to all
who served under him. As a general, he was
cautious, prudent, and careful of the lives of his
men; but when safety lay in daring, as at the
battle of Assaye, he could be daring in the extreme. He enjoyed an iron constitution, and was
not more remarkable for his personal intrepidity
than for his moral courage. The union of these
qualities obtained for him the appellation of the
'Iron Duke,' by which he was affectionately known
in his later years. . . . His tastes were aristocratic,
and his aides-de-camp and favourite generals were
almost all men of family and high connections.
Altogether, he was the very type and model of an
Englishman; and in the general order issued by
the Queen to the Army, he was characterised as
'the greatest commander whom England ever
saw.'"
On the 14th of September, 1852, the "great
Duke" died at Walmer Castle, his official residence
as Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports. On that
morning his valet called him as usual at six o'clock.
Half an hour afterwards he entered the room and
found his master ill. At four o'clock in the afternoon, after an epileptic fit, the great soldier
breathed his last. Of all his crowd of illustrious
friends, only two were near him—Lord and Lady
Charles Wellesley, who were staying on a visit.
So little did he anticipate death that he had appointed that day to meet the Countess of Westmoreland at Dover to see her off by packet to
Ostend. The chamber in which he died had
much the appearance of that at Apsley House
described above; it was a little room with a single
window, which served as his library and study, and
an iron bedstead three feet wide, with a three-inch
mattress.
Apsley House stands between two other memorials of the illustrious duke—the colossal figure
mounted on horseback surmounting the arch which
leads to Constitution Hill, and the statue of Achilles
in Hyde Park. The first of these statues was
modelled by Mr. Matthew C. Wyatt and his son,
James Wyatt; it occupied three years, and is said
to have taken more than one hundred tons of
plaster. It represents the duke upon his horse
"Copenhagen," at the field of Waterloo. The
duke sat for the portrait, which is considered very
striking. Mr. John Timbs tells us that "the group
is cast in about eight pieces, which are fastened
with screws and fused together, thirty men being
often employed at one time upon the bronze. It
was conveyed upon an immense car, drawn by
forty horses, to the Green Park Arch, September
26th, 1846, and was raised by crabs. The entire
group weighs forty tons; is nearly thirty feet high;
and within half of the horse eight persons have
dined." The erection of this statue, which cost
about £30,000, originated from the close contest
for the execution of the Wellington statue in the
City. The archway on which this statue stands
was erected by Mr. Decimus Burton, in 1828. It
is Corinthian, and on each face are six fluted
pilasters, with two fluted columns, flanking the single
archway, raised upon a lofty stylobate or plinth,
and supporting a richly-decorated entablature, in
which are sculptured alternately "G. R. IV.," and
the imperial crown within wreaths of laurel. The
massive iron gates, bronzed, are enriched with the
royal arms in a circular centre. "On fine afternoons," writes Mr. John Timbs, "the sun casts the
shadow of the duke's equestrian statue full upon
Apsley House, and the sombre image may be seen
gliding, spirit-like, over the front."
Of the statue of Achilles, erected in the duke's
honour by the ladies of England, we shall have
more to say when we come to our chapter on
Hyde Park. It has not, however, been by the aid
of statuary alone that the memory of the duke has
been kept alive; for it is said that within twentyfive years after he fought his last crowning battle,
there were already in Europe seven bridges, nine
museums, seventeen public squares, and twenty
streets, which bore the name of Waterloo. How
many more have been added since we can scarcely
estimate.
We have already mentioned the toll-gate at Hyde
Park Corner, and the old lodge adjoining it, which
stood by the entrance into the Park. Appended to
it was a small cottage, known to the public as the
"Curds-and-Whey House." The lodge was joined
on to Knightsbridge by a brick wall, which, as well
as the old lodge and the "Curds-and-Whey House,"
was taken down about the year 1825, when a new
lodge of stone was built, and the wall superseded
by a light iron railing. About the same time, a
small strip of ground was taken off the south-east
corner of the Park, in order to form a garden for
Apsley House; but the Duke of Wellington was
not very popular at the time, and the encroachment
on the public rights stirred up not a little bad
feeling against him, an invidious parallel being
drawn between his Grace and John, Duke of Marlborough, whose house was built on a site subtracted
from St. James's Park.
"Hyde Park Corner is a worthy terminal mark to
a great metropolis," observes Charles Knight. "To
one who has been 'long in city pent,' the view
from the Achilles along the elm row, towards the
Serpentine, has a park-like appearance, that makes
him feel out of town the moment he reaches it.
To the traveller from the country, on the contrary,
the view across the Green Park, towards Westminster Abbey, is truly courtly and metropolitan.
The triumphal archways on either side corroborate
the impression of stately polish; the magnificent
scale of St. George's Hospital is worthy the capital
of a great nation; . . . and Apsley House seems
placed there in order that the 'hero of a hundred
fights' may keep watch and ward on the outskirts
of the central seat of power of the land whose
troops he has so often led to victory."
In our view of this spot, on page 283, is shown
the old toll-gate which formerly stood here. It had
a milestone nestling under it, which gave it quite a
rural appearance. It would have been amusing to
have stood by the side of the old toll-gate, and to
have seen the "quality," as people of rank and
fashion were then styled, collecting just before the
expected arrival of the great earthquake, which, it
was prophesied vehemently, was coming to demolish
the City and its suburbs. Charles Knight tells us,
in his "London," that "for some three days before
the date fixed, the crowds of carriages passing Hyde
Park Corner westwards, with whole parties removing into the country, was something like a procession to Ranelagh or Vauxhall." This occurred
in the month of April, 1750, and is thus recorded
in a newspaper of that date:—
"Incredible numbers of people, being under
strong apprehensions that London and Westminster
would be visited by another and more fatal earthquake on this night, according to the predictions of
a crazy life-guardsman, and because it would be
just four weeks from the last shock—as that was
from the first—left their houses, and walked in the
parks and the fields, or lay in boats all night; many
people of fashion in the neighbouring villages sat in
their coaches till day-break; others went off to a
greater distance, so that the roads were never more
thronged, and lodgings were hardly to be procured
even at Windsor; so far, and even to their wits'
end, had their superstitious fears, or their guilty
consciences, driven them."
This going off to Kensington, or Hounslow, or
Windsor, to avoid the earthquake, reminds one of
the old Duchess of Bolton, who, on Whiston's prophecy of the approaching destruction of the world,
prudently resolved to be off to China, in order to
escape so inconvenient an accident. Lady Hervey
writes to her friend, Mr. Morris, with reference to
this silly panic: "The Ides of March are come,
and will, I am persuaded, be past in all safety
before you receive this letter, in spite of prophets
and prophecies. The newspapers are filled with
accounts of a hundred little subaltern earthquakes
which have been felt in many different places, but
which I take to be only the ghosts of the more
considerable one which haunt the timorous. . . . .
Fear is an epidemic distemper; there is scarcely
anything that is more contagious. I dare say at
this minute nine parts in ten of the inhabitants of
Westminster are shaking as much from this fear as
they would from the earthquake if it was really to
happen." That this curious instance of a "popular
delusion" was not altogether a groundless panic,
may be gathered from the following account,
quoted from another publication, printed in the
above year:—"On the 8th of March, at half-past
five in the morning, the sky being very clear and
serene, and the air very warm, the inhabitants of
London, and to a great extent round the City, were
alarmed by the shock of an earthquake, that came
with great violence, especially about Grosvenor
Square. This was preceded, about five o'clock, by
a continual though a confused lightning, till within
a minute or two of its being felt, when a noise was
heard resembling the roaring of a great piece of
ordnance, fired at a considerable distance, and then
instantly the houses reeled, first sinking, as it were,
to the south, and then to the north, and with a
quick return into the centre."
APSLEY HOUSE IN 1800. (From Mr. Crace's Collection.)
A parallel to this "popular delusion" may be
read in the London Magazine for 1773:—"Paris,
May 14.—A report which had prevailed here that
this city was to be destroyed by a comet in the
night between the 12th and 13th of this month,
so terrified many weak and credulous people, that
whole families actually quitted Paris on that account,
and are gone into foreign countries."
But it is time for us to resume our perambulation. Leaving Apsley House, we now travel northwards, and following in the main the course of
Park Lane, we shall, before long, find ourselves at
Tyburn, which, for the present, must be the limit
of our journeyings in the west of the metropolis,
as we are bound to find our way back to the
central regions of Bloomsbury, by a route embracing
Oxford Street and the large district which lies to
the north of it.
Park Lane, in the reign of Queen Anne, was a
desolate bye-road, generally spoken of as "the lane
leading from Piccadilly to Tyburn." The thoroughfare is, for the most part, open on its west side to
Hyde Park, the other side being chiefly occupied
by lofty and splendid mansions and terraces.
Towards its southern extremity, the "lane" was
formerly very narrow and inconveniently crowded;
but in 1871 it was widened by the Board of Works,
by the removal of one of the mansions in Piccadilly, and the throwing open of Hamilton Place.
Before the extension of London so far westward,
when this was nothing more than a country lane,
or bye-road, shaded here and there by trees, and
winding its way along by the park palings, from the
toll-gate at Hyde Park Corner to Tyburn, it must
have presented a very rural appearance. So lately
as the beginning of the last century, the lane was
almost, if not quite, destitute of habitation, for in
it lived, moping away their existence in an unfinished house, commenced by their eccentric father,
the sons of George Bushnell, who sculptured the
statues which adorn Temple Bar. "This strange
abode," says Mr. Walter Thornbury, in "Haunted
London," "had neither staircase nor doors. . . . .
Vertue, in a MS. dated 1728, describes a visit
which he paid to the house, which was 'choked up
with unfinished statues and pictures,' the sad relics
of their father's wayward and eccentric genius."
ENTRANCE TO GROSVENOR STREET FROM HYDE PARK, ABOUT 1780.
At the point where Park Lane and Hamilton
Place meet, there was erected, in 1875, at the cost
of £5,000, an ornamental fountain by Thornycroft. The money expended on it was a part of
the property of a lady who died intestate, and
whose wealth came into possession of the Government. It having been understood that she had
often in her lifetime advocated the erection of a
fountain here, this was thought the most desirable
way to spend the money. The fountain stands on
a very advantageous site, between the new and the
old roads leading into Piccadilly, some twenty yards
in advance of the point of bifurcation. The space
is necessarily somewhat triangular, and the sculptor
has adapted his design to the place by making it
tri-frontal. The great feature in the work is, in
accordance with this form of composition, a group
of three heroic-size marble statues of the greatest of
English poets—Shakespeare, Milton, and Chaucer;
and the summit of the monument, twenty-six feet
from the ground, is a gilded bronze-winged figure of
Fame, poised with one foot on a globe, blowing
her trumpet, and bearing the wreath. Below the
columnar pedestal on which these portrait statues
stand, are three bronze figures of Muses, seated,
and holding their attributes as Tragedy, Comedy,
and History. These are so arranged that the
Shakespeare is supported by the figures of Tragedy
and Comedy, while the Milton stands between
Tragedy and History, and the Chaucer with Comedy
and History on each side. The principal front is
naturally given to the Shakespeare, facing across
the Park, while Fame, lifting her trumpet high in
the air, looks upward in the same direction. The
statue of Milton faces the spectator coming down
Park Lane; while Chaucer, his tablets and stile in
hand, greets him with a pleasant half-humorous,
half-reflective look, as he passes up the old narrow
way from Piccadilly. Thus the sculptor has, with
the happiest sense of the harmonies arising from
mere position, availed himself of every coigne of
vantage, and added interest and meaning to his
work beyond its ostensible purpose of a fountain.
The poet of all time faces the wide expanse of
space, while Milton and Chaucer look over the
western paths of busy practical life and work.
The first large mansion as we go up Park Lane
is Holdernesse House, at the corner of Hertford
Street. It is the residence of the Marquis of Londonderry, and stands on a site formerly occupied
by the town mansion of the D'Arcys, Earls of
Holdernesse, a title long since extinct. It is said
that the father of the first Lord Londonderry
travelled in the north of Ireland as a commission
agent for a Scottish house of business, and that
when his son rose to the surface in the political
world, he was glad to petition the Earl of Galloway
for leave to hook himself on to an obscure branch
of the family tree of the Scottish house of Stewart.
The mansion—one of the most spacious and
splendid in London—though little known to the
world outside, was built, about the year 1850, from
the designs of Messrs. S. and B. Wyatt, and commands a charmingly rural view over the expanse of
Hyde Park. Here is a magnificent picture-gallery,
containing, among other pictures, some full-length
portraits of British and foreign monarchs of the
present century by Sir Thomas Lawrence, as also a
collection of articles of vertu—some of which were
presented to the second Marquis of Londonderry
by the Allied Sovereigns—vases, and tables of
malachite. The sculpture-gallery contains several
works by Canova and other great masters.
Great Stanhope Street, a broad thoroughfare,
leading up, like an avenue, to the front of Chesterfield House, immortalises the family name of the old
Earl of Chesterfield, its builder. Lord Palmerston
lived, for many years prior to 1840, at No. 9.
Next door, was living Mr. Alexander Raphael, the
first Roman Catholic sheriff of London and Middlesex, whose money largely helped to ensure the
return of O'Connell to Parliament as member for
Carlow. No. 5 was, for many years, the residence
of the Duke of Wellington's friend, Lord Fitzroy
Somerset, afterwards Lord Raglan; and from this
house he started, in the spring of 1854, to take
the command of our army in the Crimea, where he
died in 1855. No. 15 was for some time the town
residence of the gallant Field-Marshal, the first
Viscount Hardinge, formerly Governor-General of
India, and successor of the Duke of Wellington as
Commander-in-Chief of the British Army. Facing
the entrance to this street, and opening into the
park, is Stanhope Gate.
Tilney Street, the next turning northward, connects Park Lane with South Audley Street. At his
house in this street, in 1787, died, at an advanced
age, Soame Jenyns, the well-known man of letters,
essayist, poet, and convert from infidelity, and many
years M.P. for Cambridge. His kindly and genial
character made him very popular in society; but
his various writings have come, for the most part,
to be forgotten. It is said that no words of illnature or personality ever passed his lips, except
his memorable epigram and epitaph—for it is both—on Dr. Johnson:—
"Here lies Sam Johnson. Reader, have a care;
Tread lightly, lest you wake a sleeping bear.
Religious, moral, generous, and humane
He was; but self-sufficient, proud, and vain;
Fond of, and overbearing in, dispute;
A Christian and a scholar—but a brute!"
The house No. 6 in this street was the last town
residence of Mrs. Fitzherbert, who was, no doubt,
the lawful wife of George IV. She died in 1837,
leaving her house to the Damer family. At No. 5,
lived the Lord Yarmouth of the Regency, before
his father's death raised him to the House of
Peers as Marquis of Hertford.
Dean Street is the name by which a narrow and
winding thoroughfare, leading behind Dorchester
House into South Audley Street, is dignified. It
is clearly only an enlargement of a rural bye-road,
probably worn by the wheels of carts and wagons
proceeding from the market-gardens of Pimlico to
the market in the Brook Field, already mentioned.
It consists of some half-a-dozen small houses, on
one side only of the street, and has few reminiscences, social, literary, or political.
Dorchester House, the residence of Mr. R. S.
Holford, the gardens of which face Park Lane on
the one side, and Dean Street on the other, is one
of the handsomest of the many modern mansions of
London. It is in the ornate Italian style, and stands
on the site of an older mansion of the same name,
which was one of the residences of the late Marquis
of Hertford, who died there in 1842. This nobleman, who, as Earl of Yarmouth, was a well-known
figure under the Regency, married Mademoiselle
Fagniani, the daughter, according to some, of the
Duke of Queensberry ("Old Q."), according to
others, of George Selwyn, or George Selwyn's
butler. Selwyn, it is recorded, left her a fortune
of £30,000, two-thirds of which were to pass to
Lord Carlisle's family if she should have no children.
Lord Yarmouth was a roué and a profligate, but
he had one redeeming quality, and that was wit.
When Lord Granville resigned his post as ambassador at Paris, Lady Granville gave an evening
party, jocosely adding that it was her "funeral."
"I believe in a resurrection," said his lordship.
The present mansion was built in 1851–2, from
the architectural designs of Mr. Lewis Vulliamy. It
is faced with Portland stone, and in plan forms a
parallelogram, about 105 feet wide by 135 feet
in depth, very nearly the size of Bridgewater
House. The grand staircase is of marble, and
the interior generally is fitted up with great completeness. The arrangement of the west front,
facing Park Lane, is original and effective, the
mouldings and dressings generally having been
carefully studied. The principal cornice displays
a large amount of carving, and its size may be
judged from the fact that the stones composing the
chief projection of it are each upwards of eight feet
square. There is a bold stone screen wall round
the house, with a lodge at the south-west corner.
"This mansion," says the Builder, "is a very good
specimen of masonry, and is built for long endurance. The external walls are 3 feet 10 inches
thick, with a cavity of about 5 inches, and the proportion of stone is great, and the bonders numerous;
the stones are all dowelled together with slate
dowells; and throughout, the greatest care appears
to have been taken by the architect to ensure more
than usually sound construction. If the New
Zealander, who is to gaze on the deserted site of
fallen London in some distant time to come, sees
nothing else standing in this neighbourhood, he
will certainly find the weather-tinted walls of Dorchester House erect and faithful, and will, perhaps,
strive to discover the meaning of the monogram
which appears on the shield beneath the balconies,
'R.S.H.,' that he may communicate his speculations
to some 'Tasmanian Society of Antiquaries,' perhaps not more pugnacious, if less erudite, than our
own."
Scattered through the principal apartments of
Mr. Holford's mansion is a splendid collection of
pictures, mostly by the ancient masters, many of
them being of first-rate celebrity. The gallery contains, inter alia, fine specimens of Titian, Velasquez,
Tintoretto, Vandyke, Murillo, Teniers, Wouvermans,
and other artists. Among the pictures are two
of the Caracci series, painted for the Giustiniani
Palace, by Agostino and Ludovico Caracci. These
famous pictures came to England in the Duke of
Lucca's collection, and not being purchased for the
National Gallery, after some negotiation with the
trustees, they were subsequently exhibited in most
of the cities of the United Kingdom, before they
were separated to pass into the hands of private
gentlemen. Then there are several of Rubens'
exquisite sketches, among them the slight one for
his "Entry of Henry IV.," in the Luxembourg collection, and the "Assumption of the Virgin," for the
picture over the high altar in Antwerp Cathedral.
Claude and the two Poussins are represented by
brilliant landscapes. Altogether, the gallery ranks
among the most important private collections in
England. Mr. Holford has also a magnificent
library, well stored with rare and curious books,
among which are the editio princeps of Walton's
"Compleat Angler," and Bunyan's "Pilgrim's Progress," both lately reproduced in fac-simile by Mr.
Elliot Stock.
On the north side of Dorchester House is South
Street, which runs into Hill Street, Berkeley Square.
In this street stood the Roman Catholic chapel
belonging to the Portuguese Embassy, and called
after it the Portuguese Chapel. The building was
removed about the year 1845, when it was superseded by the Jesuit Church in Farm Street, as
already mentioned. In this street (at No. 39) lived
Lord Melbourne, while occupying the post of
Premier. In 1835, Mdlle. D'Este, daughter of
the Duke of Sussex, lived at No. 36; and at
No. 33, Lord Holland. In this street, also, lived
Vice-Chancellor Sir John Leach.
Chapel Street is so called on account of its
proximity to Grosvenor Chapel. In it, in 1841,
lived General Sir Robert Thomas Wilson, who
having gained laurels in Egypt under Sir Ralph
Abercromby, and subsequently in the Peninsula
under Wellington, became involved in the unfortunate matter of Queen Caroline, and for his
censure of the course pursued by the members of
the Crown, was degraded and dismissed from the
army; he was, however, subsequently reinstated,
and attained the rank of general. He was for
many years M.P. for Southwark; and for some
time, just before his death in 1849, he held the
post of Governor of Gibraltar.
Of Mount Street, which runs parallel with Chapel
Street, across the middle of South Audley Street,
we have spoken in a previous chapter.
A fine and spacious mansion, No. 21, between
Mount and Upper Grosvenor Streets, was for many
years the residence of the Marquis of Breadalbane,
and afterwards of Lady Palmerston, who lived here
in her widowhood.
In Upper Grosvenor Street lived William, Duke
of Cumberland, more frequently known as "the
butcher," on account of his wholesale massacre
of the conquered Jacobites after the battle of
Culloden, in 1746. Here he died, somewhat
suddenly, at the end of October, 1765.
HYDE PARK. (From Rocqué's Map, 1748.)
The corner house of Park Lane and Upper
Grosvenor Street, formerly numbered 1, Grosvenor
Gate, was the residence of Mr. Benjamin Disraeli
for more than thirty years, including the period of
his first Premiership. It had belonged to Mr.
Wyndham Lewis, for a short time his colleague
in the representation of Maidstone, whose widow
(afterwards Lady Beaconsfield) he married in 1839,
soon after her first husband's death. He occupied
it down to the year before his second Premiership.
On the south side of this street is Grosvenor
House, the town residence of the Duke of Westminster. It was formerly called Gloucester House;
and in it lived the Duke of Gloucester, younger
brother of George III., for whom it was originally
built. It is separated from the street by a handsome open stone colonnade or screen, of classic
pillars, connecting a double arching entrance, above
which are pediments sculptured with the family
arms, and panels with the four seasons above the
foot entrances; the metal gates, and other portions of the screen, are enriched with foliage, fruit,
flowers, and armorial bearings. This screen was
completed in 1842, from the designs of Mr. T.
Cundy, who also erected, in 1826, after a beautiful
example of the Corinthian order, the western wing
of the mansion, containing the picture-gallery, one
of the finest private galleries in Europe. Few
sights are more attractive to strangers than galleries
of paintings and statues; and although we are
sadly deficient in public collections of such works
of art, yet it may safely be asserted, that no country
in Europe can boast of such magnificent private
galleries as England, and no capital as London.
Unlike Paris in this respect, most of the picturegalleries in London are the property of private
individuals; but they are generally accessible by
special application or a personal introduction.
The celebrated "Grosvenor Gallery" was commenced by Richard, first Earl Grosvenor, by the
purchase of Mr. Agar's pictures, as a nucleus, for
30,000 guineas. The collection has since been
considerably increased by various purchases. The
gallery contains specimens of Claude, the Poussins,
Raphael, Murillo, Snyders, Rembrandt, Rubens,
Velasquez, Titian, Guido, Paul Veronese, Vandyke,
Cuyp, Gainsborough, Reynolds, Hogarth, Vandervelde, and, indeed, of nearly all the great masters,
ancient and modern. Hogarth's "Sigismonda,"
which is among them, as we know from one of the
painter's private letters, was executed in 1764, the
last year of his life, at the earnest request of Sir
Richard Grosvenor.
In the words of Dr. Waagen, in his "Art and
Artists in England," Grosvenor House gallery
"makes a truly princely appearance, by its extent,
the value of the pictures, and the manner in which
they are hung. . . . . It is rich in the works of
the great painters of the Dutch and Flemish schools
of the seventeenth century, and in works of Rembrandt it is perhaps the first in England, after the
private collection of royalty." Dr. Waagen also
singles out for special commendation pictures by
Paul Potter, Gerard Dow, Salvator Rosa, Claude
Lorraine, Murillo, and Velasquez. The gallery is
a magnificent and lofty apartment, lit only by a
lantern from above; a faint and subdued light
consequently reaches the lower part, to the great
disadvantage of the pictures which are hung low.
It contains five fine specimens of Rubens, including
"The Wise Men's Offering," "Ixion," and "Sarah
sending away Hagar;" the "Visitation of St. Elizabeth," and four others, by Rembrandt.
The following extract from Mr. H. C. Robinson's
Diary, under date May 31, 1833, will give a good
idea of the merits of this gallery:—"I accompanied——to the Marquis of Westminster's, to
see his pictures. The pleasure of seeing them was
rather enhanced than diminished by my better
acquaintance with the great master-pieces in Italy.
There are here some delightful specimens of
Claude, which are equal to any on the Continent;
there are also capital Rembrandts and Rubenses.
It is true that there are but few of the great Italian
masters, yet Guido's 'Fortune' (a duplicate) is
one of the most beautiful pictures that I know.
Westall was here with——, and I could hear him
giving the preference in colouring to Sir Joshua's
'Mrs. Siddons' over every picture in the room.
The 'Blue Boy' of Gainsborough is a delicious
painting."
It only remains to add that the duke very freely
allows the gallery to be seen by the working
classes; and that, with this end specially in view,
has allowed access to it, under certain conditions,
on Sundays, an example of liberality and consideration which might be followed in other quarters.
The Duke of Westminster is the head of the
family of Grosvenor—a house which, although its
connection with the English peerage is scarcely a
century old, can lay claim to as noble a descent as
any of our Norman houses. In fact, the Grosvenors
have been of knightly dignity since the Conquest.
Its head was the individual who, towards the close
of the fourteenth century, carried on, for five long
years, the memorable controversy of Scrope versus
Grosvenor, before the High Court of Chivalry, the
judges being the Lord High Constable, Thomas
of Woodstock, Duke of Gloucester, youngest son of
Edward III., and the Earl Marshal, Thomas de
Mowbray, Earl of Nottingham. "Kings, warriors,
mitred abbots, bishops, statesmen, and poets, appear on the scene. Four hundred witnesses, not
one of lesser degree than 'a gentleman having
knowledge of arms,' were called on to give evidence—among them John of Gaunt, Owen Glendower, Hotspur, and Geoffrey Chaucer. The
question before the Court was such as may well
raise a smile now-a-days, when everybody is, forsooth, a 'gentleman,' and when everybody who
likes to pay the tax can assume what armorial
bearings he pleases, without fear of punishment;
it was simply the right to bear a particular plain
coat of arms, heraldically described as 'Azure, a
bend or.' The plaintiff was Sir Richard de Scrope,
of Bolton, the friend and comrade of the Black
Prince; the defendant was Sir Robert Grosvenor,
a Cheshire knight. We will not attempt to give an
outline of the pleadings: suffice it to say, that the
decision of the Court was in favour of Scrope, the
same arms, 'within a plain bordure argent,'being
allowed to Grosvenor—the present arms of the
family."
The Grosvenors were raised to a baronetcy in
1621, but did not attain the peerage till the early
years of the reign of George III., when Sir Richard
Grosvenor was created Baron Grosvenor of Eaton,
in the County Palatine of Chester. His lordship
was advanced to the dignities of Viscount Belgrave
and Earl Grosvenor twenty years later. The second
earl was raised to the Marquisate of Westminster
at the coronation of William IV. The ducal title
was conferred by Her Majesty in 1874. The title
chosen by Earl Grosvenor for his marquisate is, at
all events, appropriate; for it is from within the
boundaries of the fair City of Westminster that the
largest portion of the princely rent-roll of the family
is derived. It is often said, and generally believed,
that the Duke of Westminster's income exceeds
that of any other nobleman of the age.
Continuing our walk up Park Lane, we pass, at
No. 35, the residence of Sir Moses Montefiore,
Bart, the venerable and indefatigable champion
of the religious and social interests of the Jewish
race in every part of the world.
THE FRONT OF GROSVENOR HOUSE.
Dudley House, at the north-western corner of
Upper Brook Street, is the residence of the Earl of
Dudley, and is also noted for containing a gallery
of pictures of the Flemish and Italian schools.
The collection formed here by the late earl is described by Dr. Waagen in 1835 as a very mixed one.
He enumerates a few by Bellini, Francia, Cuyp,
Rysdale, &c., adding, "I looked in vain for the
'Three Graces,' by Raphael, which Passavant saw
there." It is understood, however, that the present
earl has added considerably to his gallery. There
are also several fine specimens of sculpture, including a "Venus" by Canova.
Here lived the eccentric Earl of Dudley, who
died in 1833. His lordship, who was Secretary
of State for Foreign Affairs under Mr. Canning's
administration, was somewhat of a bon vivant, as
may be guessed from some of the anecdotes
handed down about him. During the general
depression in 1825–7, Lord Dudley remarked to a
friend that his coal-mining income had fallen off
during one year, £30,000; "but," he added, "I
am a moderate man, and don't feel it. Lord
Durham, they tell me, has not bread!"
On one occasion, when the carte of a forthcoming dinner at the "Clarendon" was discussed
in his presence, his lordship observed: "My wants
and wishes are moderate in such matters. I consider a good soup, a small turbot, a neck of venison
with asparagus, and an apricot tart, is a dinner for
an emperor—when he can't get a better."
Of his lordship's extraordinary absence of mind,
and his unfortunate habit of "thinking aloud,"
many amusing anecdotes have been in circulation.
It is told, as a fact, that when he was in the
Foreign Office, he directed a letter, intended for
the French, to the Russian Ambassador, shortly
before the affair of Navarino; and, strange as it
may appear, it obtained him the highest honour.
Prince Lieven, who possibly never made any mistakes of the kind, set it down as the cleverest ruse
ever attempted to be played off, and gave himself
immense credit for not falling into the trap laid for
him by the sinister ingenuity of the English Secretary. He returned the letter with a most polite
note, in which he vowed, of course, that he had
not read a line of it after he had ascertained that it
was intended for Prince Polignac; but could not
help telling Lord Dudley at an evening party, that
he was "trop fin, but that diplomatists of his
(Prince L.'s) standing were not so easily caught."
CAMELFORD HOUSE, 1820.
With high birth, wealth, and everything in his
favour, Lord Dudley ended in a ridiculous failure.
He is tersely described by one of the ladies of the
Court of George IV., as "a man who promised
much, did little, and died mad." Madame de
Staël, however, said of him, that "he was the only
man of sentiment whom she had met in England."
Upper Brook Street, which connects Park Lane
with the north-west corner of Grosvenor Square,
has had at different times some distinguished residents; among others, William Gerard Hamilton,
M.P., known as "single-speech Hamilton." In
1763, Lady Molesworth, her brother, and seven
other persons, were accidentally burnt in their
house in this street.
In 1826, No. 40 was occupied by the wealthy
and eccentric Mr. Ball Hughes. In 1841, No. 27
was the residence of the celebrated engineer, Sir
John Burgoyne; and at No. 49 lived Lord Ashley
(since Earl of Shaftesbury). In this street, too,
at one time, resided the Hon. Mrs. Damer, the
sculptor. She was a daughter of General Conway,
and the widow of Mr. John Damer, who, as we have
seen, (fn. 1) whilst quite a young man, shot himself at a
tavern in Covent Garden. She was a great friend
of Horace Walpole, who left her a life interest
in Strawberry Hill.
Portugal Street, which runs north and south from
Mount to Chapel Streets, parallel to Park Lane,
still commemorates the name of the queen of
Charles II. Our readers will not have forgotten
that, at one time, this name was given to Piccadilly;
and, in all probability, when thus quietly dropped
out of use for the great thoroughfare, it was preserved in connection with this modest and retiring
street by some lover of the Stuart line of kings.
The street is narrow, and consists of little more
than a dozen houses, all old-fashioned, and rather
gloomy; and there is little more to be said
about it.
Park Street, which extends northwards from
South Street to Oxford Street, crossing Mount
Street, Upper Grosvenor, and Upper Brook Streets,
has numbered among its residents at various times
a few names which have become famous, such as
Sir Humphry Davy, the greatest chemist of his
age, who lived at No. 26; Mr. William Beckford, of
Fonthill celebrity, who, in 1841, occupied No. 27;
Mr. Serjeant Goulburn, who lived at No. 21; and
Miss Lydia White, who, in 1827, died at her residence, No. 113. This lady, Mr. Peter Cunningham
tells us, was "celebrated for her lively wit and
for her blue-stocking parties, unrivalled, it is said, in
the soft realm of blue May Fair"—except, it may
be supposed, by Mrs. Montague. Sir Walter Scott
writes, in his diary, under date of 13th May, 1826,
that he "went to poor Lydia White's, and found her
extended on a couch, frightfully swelled, unable to
stir, roughed, jesting, and dying. She has a good
heart and head, and is really a clever creature; but,
unhappily, or rather, happily, she has set up the
whole staff of her rest in keeping literary society
about her. The world has not neglected her. She
can always make up a circle, and generally has
some people of real talent and distinction." At
No. 56, now pulled down, lived, for many years,
Baron Parke, both whilst a judge, and subsequently
to his creation, in 1855, as a "peer for life," by the
name, style, and title of Lord Wensleydale.
In Green Street, which runs eastward from Park
Lane into North Audley Street, lived and died the
Rev. Sydney Smith, the witty canon of St. Paul's.
A native of Woodford, in Essex, he was born in the
year 1771, and having entered the Church, became
curate of Amesbury, in Wiltshire. "The squire of
the parish," says Sydney Smith, "took a fancy to
me, and requested me to go with his son to reside
at the University of Weimar; before we got there,
Germany became the seat of war; and, in stress of
politics, we put into Edinburgh, where I remained
five years." Here, in 1802, in conjunction with a
few literary associates, he projected the Edinburgh
Review. In the following year he removed to
London, where he soon became "the delight and
wonder of society." After holding various preferments, he was appointed, in 1831, one of the canons
residentiary of St. Paul's. He published several
pamphlets and sermons, and also his contributions
to the Edinburgh Review in a collected form; but
the work by which he is best remembered is "Peter
Plymley's Letters," written to promote the cause of
Catholic emancipation, and abounding in wit and
irony. Sydney Smith died in February, 1845.
In this street lived Lord Cochrane, whose name
became notorious in connection with a certain
stock-jobbing fraud of a most extraordinary kind,
which was played off in the metropolis, and of
which we have already given the particulars, (fn. 2) but
which may be briefly summarised here. It appears
that between eleven and twelve in the forenoon of
Monday, the 21st of February, 1814, a person,
wearing a white cockade, passed rapidly by the
Royal Exchange, in a post-chaise, drawn by four
horses, and decorated with sprigs of laurel. Much
about the same time a chaise similarly decorated,
and a person of the same description within, was
seen in the vicinity of Downing Street—not proceeding directly thither, but wandering about, apparently in want of a guide. Much excitement was
caused by the appearance of these individuals,
coupled with the rumours which had been spread
abroad, to the effect that the mission of the man
with the cockade was not to the British Government, but to the French princes here; and that he
had certainly arrived at the residences of the
Prince of Conde and the Duke of Bourbon. One
of the actors engaged in this conspiracy, named
De Berenger, was traced to the house of Lord
Cochrane, in this street. After some lapse of time
in consequence of investigations of the committee
appointed by the Stock Exchange, these two persons,
together with some four or five others, were brought
to trial before Lord Ellenborough, "for conspiring
to defraud that body, by circulating false news of
Bonaparte's defeat, his being killed by the Cossacks, &c., to raise the funds to a higher price than
they would otherwise have borne, to the injury of
the public and to the benefit of the conspirators."
All the persons indicted were found guilty; Lord
Cochrane was sentenced to pay a fine of £1,000
to the king, to be set upon the pillory in front of
the Royal Exchange, and to be imprisoned for
twelve calendar months; one of the other prisoners
received the same judgment, and the remainder were
sentenced to a year's imprisonment in the Marshalsea. Lord Cochrane was one of the last persons
sentenced to the pillory. This punishment he had
not to bear, for Sir Francis Burdett vowed that, if
necessary, he would stand by his side; and his
presence was, in itself, protection from the mob.
Crossing Green Street, at right angles at its
western end, is Norfolk Street. No. 22 in this
street was once the residence of Lord Overstone,
the eminent and wealthy banker, who here had a
fine gallery of pictures. In this street lived the
Duchess of Gordon. Though strictly pious in her
later years, as a middle-aged matron she was a
leader of fashion, and the admiration of West-end
circles. If it be true that she was ambitious and
vain, her ambition and vanity must have been
gratified by seeing three daughters married to the
Dukes of Bedford, Richmond, and Manchester, and
a fourth to the Marquis Cornwallis.
In this street resided Lord William Russell,
brother of the fifth and sixth Dukes of Bedford,
who, on the 6th of May, 1840, was murdered in his
bed by his valet, Courvoisier. From the confession
which Courvoisier made, after finding his case was
hopeless, it appears that, in the middle of the night,
when the family had retired to rest, Lord William,
feeling indisposed, dressed himself, and went down
stairs, where he found the valet busy in packing up
the valuables, apparently with intent to carry them
away. He taxed him with his crime, and, telling
him he should be discharged the next morning,
returned to his bed. Courvoisier, in despair, after
waiting some time, seized a carving-knife, went up
to his master's room, and, finding him fast asleep,
savagely cut his throat. The murderer was tried
at the Old Bailey, and, being found guilty, was
executed in the following July.
Passing once more into Park Lane, we have to
direct our attention to two or three more houses
before closing this chapter. The first of these,
No. 16, was, in 1826, the residence of the late
Lord Ellenborough, some time Governor-General
of India; at No. 8 were living the Misses Berry,
Horace Walpole's friends; and the large house at
the northern end, next to Oxford Street, and backing on to Camelford House, was for many years the
residence of the late Duke of Somerset, whose wife,
one of the fair trio of Sheridan sisters, sat as the
"Queen of Beauty" at the Eglinton Tournament.
Camelford House, so called after Pitt, Lord Camelford, has nothing to command special attention,
unless it be its mean and dingy appearance. The
front of the house is towards Oxford Street, and the
entrance at the side, whilst the court-yard at the
back is open to Norfolk Street. The second Lord
Camelford's body, after his death, in a duel fought
near Holland House, was brought back hither, in
1804, and was taken hence to be deposited in St.
Anne's Church, Soho, as we have already stated.
The house then passed to his only sister, Lady
Grenville, who lived here, with her husband, the
Premier. She died, aged ninety, in 1863. At one
time the house was let to Prince (afterwards King)
Leopold and the Princess Charlotte. It has been
for many years the residence of Sir Charles Mills,
Bart., of Hillingdon Court, Middlesex.
Having now reached the northern extremity of
Park Lane, we have on our left the Marble Arch;
but of this, and also of Cumberland Gate and
Tyburn, we shall speak in subsequent chapters.