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 protege, 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 'Repertoire Litteraire,' and his 'Lecons et Modeles de Poesie Francaise.'

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 pounds 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

[Picture: The old Admiral Keppel] public-house, from whence the road proceeds in a straight line to Little Chelsea; Marlborough Road and Keppel Street, leading to Chelsea, branching off at each side of the tavern. Since this sketch was taken, the old building has been pulled down (1856), and a large hotel erected on the same spot, by B. Watts, where, in addition to the usual comforts of an inn, hot and cold baths may be had.

In 1818 the Admiral Keppel courted the custom of passing travellers by a poetical appeal to the feelings of both man and beast:—

"Stop, brave boys, and quench your thirst; If you won't drink, your horses murst."

There was something rural in this: the distich was painted in very rude white letters on a small black board; and when Keppel's portrait, which swung in air, like England's flag, braving

"The battle and the breeze,"

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. [Picture: No. 7 Amelia Place] Curran's public life may be said to have terminated in 1806, when he accepted the office of Master of the Rolls in Ireland, an appointment of 5000 pounds a year. This situation he retained until 1815, when his health required a cessation from its laborious attendance. Upon his retirement from office, he "passed through the watering-places with the season," and then fixed himself at No. 7, Amelia Place, Brompton, which house has now Kettle's boot and shoe warehouse built out in front. To no other contemporary pen than that of the Rev. George Croly can be ascribed the following glowing sketch of Curran:—

"From the period in which Curran emerged from the first struggles of an unfriended man, labouring up a jealous profession, his history makes a part of the annals of his country: once upon the surface, his light was always before the eye, it never sank and was never outshone. With great powers to lift himself beyond the reach of that tumultuous and stormy agitation that must involve the movers of the public mind in a country such as Ireland then was, he loved to cling to the heavings of the wave; he, at least, never rose to that tranquil elevation to which his early contemporaries had one by one climbed; and never left the struggle till the storm had gone down, it is to be hoped for ever. This was his destiny, but it might have been his choice, and he was not without the reward, which, to an ambitious mind conscious of its eminent powers, might be more than equivalent to the reluctant patronage of the throne. To his habits legal distinction would have been only a bounty upon his silence; his limbs would have been fettered by the ermine; but he had the compensation of boundless popular honour, much respect from the higher ranks of party, much admiration and much fear from the lower partizans. In Parliament he was the assailant most dreaded; in the law-courts he was the advocate deemed the most essential; in both he was an object of all the more powerful passions of man but rivalry,—

'He stood alone and shone alone.'"

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."

[Picture: Dropped Capitals for In] PELHAM CRESCENT, which consists of twenty-seven houses, and is divided in the centre, between Nos. 14 and 15, by Pelham Place, both Crescent and Place built upon part of the nursery-grounds over which Curran had wandered, dwell at No. 10 Mr. and Mrs. Keeley. At No. 20 resides Mr. John Cooper the well-known veteran actor. M. Guizot, the celebrated French statesman, after the overthrow of the government of Louis Philippe, resided for some time at No. 21, where Madame Guizot, his mother, died in March, 1848, at the advanced age of eighty-three; and the same house was, by a singular coincidence, afterwards occupied by Ledru Rollin. Pelham Place, at the back of the Crescent, is notable for having, at No. 2, Mr. Lazarus, the celebrated clarionet player, and at No. 8 resides Mr. A. Harris, the present lessee of the Princess's Theatre.

Nearly opposite to Pelham Crescent 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.

* * * * *

[Picture: Dropped Capital T] he first stone of this church was laid on the 12th October, 1820, and the New Church was consecrated on the 18th October, 1824. The architect was Mr. Savage of Walbrook. {80} The burial-ground in which it stands had been consecrated on the 21st November, 1812; and an Act of Parliament, 59 George III., cap. 35, 1819, authorised the appropriation of part of that ground for the site of building a church. In the burial-ground repose the remains of Dr. John M'Leod, the companion and friend of the gallant Sir Murray Maxwell, and the author of 'A Narrative of a Voyage in H.M.S. Alceste to the Yellow Sea, and of her Shipwreck in the Straits of Gaspar,' published in 1817. On his return to England, the services of Dr. M'Leod were rewarded by his appointment to the Royal Sovereign yacht, which he did not long enjoy, as he died in lodgings in the King's Road, Chelsea, on the 9th November, 1820, at the age of thirty-eight.

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 pounds 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 Entomologiae' of Linnaeus. 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 1.5 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.

[Picture: Queen's Elm Public House]

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. [Picture: Chelsea Park Portico] The ground now called Chelsea Park belonged, with an extensive tract of which it formed the northern part, to the famous Sir Thomas More, and in his time was unenclosed, and termed "the Sand Hills." It received the present name in 1625, when the Lord-Treasurer Cranfield (Earl of Middlesex) surrounded with a brick wall about thirty-two acres, which he had purchased in 1620 from Mr. Blake. In 1717 Chelsea Park, which extended from the Fulham to the King's Road, was estimated at forty acres, and belonged to the Marquis of Wharton, with whom, when appointed in 1709 Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, Addison went over as Secretary. It subsequently became the scene of a joint-stock company speculation under a patent granted in 1718 to John Appletree, Esq., for producing raw silk of the growth of England, and for raising a fund for carrying on the same. This undertaking was divided into shares of 5 pounds each, of which 1 pounds was paid down. Proposals were published, a subscription-book opened, in which several hundred names were soon entered; a deed of trust executed and enrolled in Chancery; directors were chosen by the subscribers for managing the affairs of the Company; and, Chelsea Park being thought a proper soil for the purpose and in a convenient situation, a lease was taken of it for 122 years. Here upwards of 2000 mulberry-trees were soon planted, and extensive edifices erected for carrying on the work: this number of trees was, however, but a small part of what the company intended to plant if they were successful. In the following year Mr. Henry Barham, F.R.S., who was probably a member of the company, published 'An Essay on the Silk Worm,' in which he thinks "all objections and difficulties against this glorious undertaking are shown to be mere phantoms and trifles." The event, however, proved that the company met with difficulties of a real and formidable nature; for though the expectation of this gentleman, who questioned not that in the ensuing year they should produce a considerable quantity of raw silk, may have been partly answered, the undertaking soon began to decline, and, in the course of a few years, came to nothing. It must, however, be admitted that the violent stock-jobbing speculations of the year 1720, which involved the shares of all projects of this nature, might have produced many changes among the proprietors, and contributed to derange the original design. However, from that period to the present time, no effort has been made to cultivate the silkworm in this country as a mercantile speculation, although individuals have continued to rear it with success as an object of curiosity.

Walpole, in his 'Catalogue of Engravers,' tells us that James Christopher Le Blon, a Fleming by birth, and a mezzotint-engraver by profession, some time subsequent to 1732, "set up a project for copying the cartoons in tapestry, and made some very fine drawings for that purpose. Houses were built and looms erected in the Mulberry Ground at Chelsea; but either the expense was precipitated too fast, or contributions did not arrive fast enough. The bubble burst, several suffered, and Le Blon was heard of no more." Walpole adds, "It is said he died in an hospital at Paris in 1740:" and observes that Le Blon was "very far from young when he knew him, but of surprising vivacity and volubility, and with a head admirably mechanic, but an universal projector, and with at least one of the qualities that attend that vocation, either a dupe or a cheat; I think," he continues, "the former, though, as most of his projects ended in air, the sufferers believed the latter. As he was much an enthusiast, perhaps like most enthusiasts he was both one and t' other."

The present mansion was built upon a portion of Chelsea Park by Mr. William Broomfield, an eminent surgeon, who resided in it for several years. The late possessor was Sir Henry Wright Wilson, Bart., to whose wife, Lady Frances Wilson (daughter of the Earl of Aylesbury), was left a valuable estate in Hampshire, {92} said to be worth about 3,000 pounds a year, under the following very singular circumstances. Her ladyship was informed one morning in February, 1814, while at breakfast, that an eccentric person named Wright, who had died a few days previously at an obscure lodging in Pimlico, had appointed her and Mr. Charles Abbott his executors, and after some legacies had bequeathed to Lady Frances the residue of his property by a will dated so far back as August, 1800. As Lady Frances declared herself to be unacquainted even with the name of the testator, she at first concluded that there was some mistake in the matter. After further explanation, the person of Mr. Wright was described to her, and Lady Frances at last recollected that the description answered that of a gentleman she had remembered as a constant frequenter of the Opera some years previously and considered to be a foreigner, and who had annoyed her extremely there by constantly staring at her box. To satisfy herself of the identity, she went to the lodgings of the late Mr. Wright, and saw him in his coffin, when she recognized the features perfectly as those of the person whose eyes had so often persecuted her when she was Lady Frances Bruce, but who had never spoken to her, and of whom she had no other knowledge whatever.

Mr. Wright left legacies of 4,000 pounds to the Countess of Rosslyn, 4,000 pounds to the Speaker of the House of Commons, 1,000 pounds to the lord-chancellor, and the same sum to Archdeacon Pott, the rector of St. Martin-in-the-Fields, which church Mr. Wright had been in the habit of frequenting, having as little acquaintance with any of these parties as he had with Lady Frances Wilson. It may be supposed from these facts that Lady Frances Wilson was exceedingly beautiful, and that an admiration of her charms might have influenced Mr. Wright to make this extraordinary bequest in her favour; but those who knew Lady Frances well assert that such could not possibly have been the case, as she was far from beautiful at any period of her life; and the oddity of the story is, and it seemed to be the general opinion, that Mr. Wright's legacy was intended for a lady who usually occupied a box next to that in which Lady Frances sat, and who, at the period, was regarded as the belle of the Opera.

THISTLE GROVE, on the opposite side of the road from Chelsea Park, leads, by what had been a garden pathway, to the Old Brompton Road. At each side of "the Grove," now occupying the sites of trees, are detached villas, houses, lodges, and cottages, named, or not named, after the taste of their respective proprietors; one of which, on the left hand, some fourteen houses distant from the main Fulham Road, was for many years the residence of Mr. John Burke, whose laborious heraldic and genealogical inquiries induced him to arrange and publish various important collections relative to the peerage and family history of the United Kingdom, in which may be found, condensed for immediate reference, an immense mass of important information.

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

Immediately beyond Chelsea Park the village of LITTLE CHELSEA commences, about the centre of which, and on the same side of the way, at the corner of the road leading to Battersea Bridge, stands the Goat in Boots public-house. [Picture: Goat in Boots] In 1663, there was a "house called the Goat at Little Chelsea," which, between that year and 1713, enjoyed the right of commonage for two cows and one heifer upon Chelsea Heath.

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

"MERCURIUS IS DER GODEN BOODE," (Mercury is the messenger of the gods,)

which being divided between each side of a sign bearing the figure of Mercury—a sign commonly used in the early part of the last century to denote that post-horses were to be obtained—"der goden boode" became freely translated into English, "the goat in boots." To Le Blon is attributed the execution of this sign and its motto; but, whoever the original artist may have been, and the intermediate retouchers or repainters of the god, certain it is that the pencil of Morland, in accordance with the desire of the landlord, either transformed the petasus of Mercury into the horned head of a goat, his talaria into spurs upon boots of huge dimensions, and his caduceus into a cutlass, or thus decorated the original sign, thereby liquidating a score which he had run up here, without any other means of payment than what his pencil afforded. The sign, however, has been painted over, with considerable additional embellishments from gold leaf, so that not the least trace of Morland's work remains, except, perhaps, in the outline.

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

A few paces further on the main Fulham Road, at the north or opposite side, stood "Manor House," now termed Manor Hall, and occupied by St. Philip's Orphanage, a large, old-fashioned building, with the intervening space between it and the road screened in by boards,—which were attached to the antique iron gate and railings about twenty years ago, when it became appropriated to a charitable asylum. Previously, Manor House had been a ladies' boarding-school; and here Miss Bartolozzi, afterwards Madame Vestris, was educated.

SEYMOUR PLACE, which leads to Seymour Terrace, is a cul-de-sac on the same side of the main Fulham Road, between Manor Hall and the Somerset Arms public-house, which last forms the west corner of Seymour Place.

At No. 1, Seymour Terrace expired, on the 19th of June, 1824, in her twenty-fifth year, Madame Riego, the widow of the unfortunate patriot General Riego, "the restorer and martyr of Spanish freedom." Her short and eventful history possesses more than ordinary melancholy. While yet a child she had to endure all the hardships and privations consequent upon a state of warfare, and under the protection of her maternal grandfather, had to seek refuge from place to place on the mountains of Asturias from the French army. At the close of 1821 she was married to General Riego, to whom she had been known and attached almost from infancy, and, in the spring of the following year, became, with her distinguished husband, a resident in Madrid. But the political confusion and continued alarm of the period having appeared to affect her health, the general proceeded with her in the autumn to Granada, where he parted from his young and beloved wife, never again to meet her in this world, the convocation of the extraordinary Cortes for October 1822 obliging him to return to the capital.

Accompanied by the canon Riego, brother to her husband, and her attached sister, Donna Lucie, she removed in March to Malaga, from whence the advance of the French army into the south of Spain obliged them to seek protection at Gibraltar, which, under the advice of General Riego, they left for England on the 4th of July, but, owing to an unfavourable passage, did not reach London until the 17th of August. Here the visitation which impended over her was still more calamitous than all that had preceded it. Within little more than two months after her arrival in London, the account arrived of General Riego's execution. {97}

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

"I have been lately negotiating with my host (of 76 Regent Street) for lodgings for the widow and brother of poor General Riego. They are splendid apartments, but the affair has been broken off by the account of his death. It has been concealed from her. She is a young woman, and is following him fast, being far advanced in a consumption. His brother is in deep grief. He says he will go and bury himself for the remainder of his days in the woods of America."

The house,

No. 1, SEYMOUR PLACE,

[Picture: No. 1 Seymour Place] as it was then, Seymour Terrace, Little Chelsea, as it is now called, became, about this period, the residence of the unhappy fugitives. Griffin, who appears to have made their acquaintance through a Spanish gentleman, named Valentine Llanos, writes, in February, 1824,—

"I was introduced the other day to poor Madame Riego, the relict of the unfortunate general. I was surprised to see her look much better than I was prepared to expect, as she is in a confirmed consumption."

Mental grief, which death only could terminate, had at that moment "marked" Madame Riego "for his own;" yet her look, like that of all high-minded Spaniards, to a stranger was calm—"much better than he was prepared to expect."

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

"The canon Riego, brother to the poor martyr, sent me, the other day, a Spanish poem of many cantos, having for its subject the career of the unhappy general, and expressed a wish that I might find material for an English one in it, if I felt disposed to make anything of the subject. Apropos, Madame Riego is almost dead. The fire is in her eye, and the flush on her cheek, which are, I believe, no beacons of hope to the consumptive. She is an interesting woman, and I pity her from my soul. This Mr. Mathews, who was confined with her husband, and arrived lately in London, and who, moreover, is a countryman of mine, brought her from her dying husband a little favourite dog and a parrot, which were his companions in his dungeon. He very indiscreetly came before her with the remembrances without any preparation, and she received a shock from it, from which she has not yet, nor ever will recover. What affecting little circumstances these are, and how interesting to one who has the least mingling of enthusiasm in his character!"

Madame Riego died in the arms of her attached sister, attended by the estimable canon. In her will she directed her executor, the canon, to assure the British people of the gratitude she felt towards them for the sympathy and support which they extended to her in the hours of her adversity. But what makes the will peculiarly affecting is her solemn attestation to the purity and sincerity of the political life of General Riego. She states that she esteems it to be the last act of justice and duty to the memory of her beloved husband, solemnly to declare, in the awful presence of her God, before whose judgment-seat she feels she must soon appear, that all his private feelings and dispositions respecting his country corresponded with his public acts and professions in defence of its liberties.

A few yards beyond the turn down to Seymour Place, on the opposite side of the road, stood, until pulled down in 1856, to make room for the new one, the additional workhouse to St. George's, Hanover Square, for which purpose Shaftesbury House was purchased by that parish in 1787; and an Act of Parliament passed in that year declares it to be in "St. George's parish so long as it shall continue to be appropriated to its present use." [Picture: Shaftesbury House] [Picture: Back of Shaftesbury House] The parochial adjuncts to Lord Shaftesbury's mansion, which remained, until the period of its demolition, in nearly the same state as when disposed of, have been considerable; but the building, as his lordship left it, could be at once recognised through the iron gate by which you entered, and which was surmounted by a lion rampant, probably the crest of one of the subsequent possessors. It is surprising, indeed, that so little alteration, externally as well as internally should have taken place. The appearance of the back of Shaftesbury House, as represented in an old print, was unchanged, with the exception of the flight of steps which led to the garden being transferred to the west (or shaded side) of the wing—an addition made by Lord Shaftesbury to the original house. This was purchased by him in 1699 from the Bovey family, as heirs to the widow of Sir James Smith, by whom there is reason to believe it was built in 1635, as [Picture: Stone] was engraved on a stone which formed part of the pavement in front of one of the summer-houses in the garden.

The Right Honourable Sir James Smith was buried at Chelsea 18th of November, 1681. He was probably the junior sheriff of London in 1672.

[Picture: Summer-house]

"It does not appear," says Lysons, "that Lord Shaftesbury pulled down Sir James Smith's house, but altered it and made considerable additions by a building fifty feet in length, which projected into the garden. It was secured with an iron door, the window-shutters were of the same metal, and there were iron plates between it and the house to prevent all communication by fire, of which this learned and noble peer seems to have entertained great apprehensions. The whole of the new building, though divided into a gallery and two small rooms (one of which was his lordship's bedchamber), was fitted up as a library. The earl was very fond of the culture of fruit-trees, and his gardens were planted with the choicest sorts, particularly every kind of vine which would bear the open air of this climate. It appears by Lord Shaftesbury's letters to Sir John Cropley that he dreaded the smoke of London as so prejudicial to his health, that whenever the wind was easterly he quitted Little Chelsea," where he generally resided during the sitting of Parliament.

In 1710 the noble author of 'Characteristics,' then about to proceed to Italy, sold his residence at Little Chelsea to Narcissus Luttrell, Esq., who, as a book-collector, is described by Dr. Dibdin as "ever ardent in his love of past learning, and not less voracious in his bibliomaniacal appetites" than the Duke of Marlborough. Sir Walter Scott acknowledges in his preface to the works of Dryden the obligations he is under to the "valuable" and "curious collection of fugitive pieces of the reigns of Charles II., James II., William III., and Queen Anne," "made by Narcissus Luttrell, Esq., under whose name the editor quotes it. This industrious collector," continues Sir Walter, "seems to have bought every poetical tract, of whatever merit, which was hawked through the streets in his time, marking carefully the price and the date of the purchase. His collection contains the earliest editions of many of our most excellent poems, bound up, according to the order of time, with the lowest trash of Grub Street. It was dispersed on Mr. Luttrell's death," adds Sir Walter Scott, and he then mentions Mr. James Bindley and Mr. Richard Heber as having "obtained a great share of the Luttrell collection, and liberally furnished him with the loan of some of them in order to the more perfect editing of Dryden's works."

This is not exactly correct, as Mr. Luttrell's library descended with Shaftesbury House to Mr. Sergeant Wynne, and from him to his eldest son, after whose death it was sold by auction in 1786. On the title-page of the sale-catalogue the collection is described as "the valuable library of Edward Wynne, Esq., lately deceased, brought from his house at Little Chelsea. Great part of it was formed by an eminent and curious collector in the last century." At the sale of Mr. Wynne's library, Bindley purchased lot '209, Collection of Poems, various, Latin and English, 5 vols. 1626, &c.,' for seven guineas; and '211, Collection of Political Poems, Dialogues, Funeral Elegies, Lampoons, &c., with various Political Prints and Portraits, 3 vols. 1641, &c.,' for sixteen pounds; and it is probable that these are the collections to which Sir Walter Scott refers.

Dr. Dibdin, in his enthusiastic mode of treating matters of bibliography, endeavours to establish a pedigree for those who

"Love a ballad in print a' life,"

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

"The opening of the eighteenth century," he observes, "was distinguished by the death of a bibliomaniac of the very first order and celebrity; of one who had no doubt frequently discoursed largely and eloquently with Luttrell upon the variety and value of certain editions of old ballad poetry, and between whom presents of curious old black-letter volumes were in all probability passing, I allude to the famous Samuel Pepys, secretary to the Admiralty."

Of Narcissus Luttrell he then says:—

"Nothing would seem to have escaped his lynx-like vigilance. Let the object be what it may (especially if it related to poetry), let the volume be great or small, or contain good, bad, or indifferent warblings of the Muse, his insatiable craving had 'stomach for all.' We may consider his collection the fountain-head of these copious streams, which, after fructifying in the libraries of many bibliomaniacs in the first half of the eighteenth century, settled for awhile more determinedly in the curious book-reservoir of a Mr. Wynne, and hence breaking up and taking a different direction towards the collections of Farmer, Steevens, and others, they have almost lost their identity in the innumerable rivulets which now inundate the book-world."

It is to the literary taste of Mr. Edward Wynne, as asserted by Dr. Dibdin, that modern book-collectors are indebted for the preservation of most of the choicest relics of the Bibliotheca Luttrelliana.

"Mr. Wynne," he continues, "lived at Little Chelsea, and built his library in a room which had the reputation of having been Locke's study. Here he used to sit surrounded by innumerable books, a great part being formed by 'an eminent and curious collector in the last century.'"

What Dr. Dibdin says respecting Mr. Wynne's building a library and Locke's study is inaccurate, as there can be no reasonable doubt that the room or rooms his library occupied were those built by Lord Shaftesbury, which had (and correctly) the reputation of having been his lordship's library, and the study, not of Locke, although of Locke's pupil and friend. It is not even probable that Lord Shaftesbury was ever visited by our great philosopher at Little Chelsea, as from 1700 that illustrious man resided altogether at Oates, in Essex, where he died on the 28th of October, 1704.

Whether to Lord Shaftesbury or to Mr. Luttrell the embellishments of the garden of their residence are to be attributed can now be only matter for conjecture, unless some curious autograph-collector's portfolio may by chance contain an old letter or other document to establish the claim. Their tastes, however, were very similar. They both loved their books, and their fruits and flowers, and enjoyed the study of them. [Picture: Summer-house] An account drawn up by Mr. Luttrell of several pears which he cultivated at Little Chelsea, with outlines of their longitudinal sections, was communicated to the Horticultural Society by Dr. Luttrell Wynne, one hundred years after the notes had been made, and may be found printed in the second volume of the Transactions of that Society. In this account twenty-five varieties of pears are mentioned, which had been obtained between the years 1712 and 1717 from Mr. Duncan's, Lord Cheneys's, Mr. Palmer's, and Mr. Selwood's nursery.

Until recently it was astounding to find, amid the rage for alteration and improvement, the formal old-fashioned shape of a trim garden of Queen Anne's time carefully preserved, its antique summer-houses respected, and the little infant leaden Hercules, which spouted water to cool the air from a serpent's throat, still asserting its aquatic supremacy, under the shade of a fine old medlar-tree; and all this too in the garden of a London parish workhouse! [Picture: Hercules fountain] Not less surprising was the aspect of the interior. The grotesque workshop of the pauper artisans, said to have been [Picture: Workshop] Lord Shaftesbury's dairy, and over which was his fire-proof library, was then an apartment appropriated to a girls' school.

On the basement story of the original house the embellished mouldings of a doorway, carried the mind back to [Picture: Doorway] the days of Charles I., and, standing within which, imagination depicted the figure of a jolly Cavalier retainer, with his pipe and tankard; or of a Puritanical, formal servant, the expression of whose countenance was sufficient to turn the best-brewed October into vinegar. The old carved door leading into this apartment is shown in the annexed sketch.

Nor should the apartment then occupied by the intelligent master of the workhouse be overlooked. The panelling of the room, its chimney-piece, and the painting and [Picture: Fireplace with painting above] framework above it, placed us completely in a chamber of the time of William III. And we only required a slight alteration in the furniture, and Lord Shaftesbury to enter, to feel that we were in the presence of the author of 'Characteristics.'

The staircase, too, with its spiral balusters, as seen through the doorway, retained its ancient air.

[Picture: Staircase seen through doorway]

Narcissus Luttrell died here on the 26th of June, 1732, and was buried at Chelsea on the 6th of July following; where Francis Luttrell (presumed to be his son) was also buried on the 3rd of September, 1740. Shaftesbury House then passed into the occupation of Mr. Sergeant Wynne, who died on the 17th of May, 1765; and from him it descended to his eldest son, Mr. Edward Wynne, the author of 'Eunomus: a Dialogue concerning the Law and Constitution of England, with an Essay on Dialogue,' 4 vols. 8vo; and other works, chiefly of a legal nature. He died a bachelor, at Little Chelsea, on the 27th of December, 1784; and his brother, the Rev. Luttrell Wynne, of All Souls, Oxford, inherited Shaftesbury House, and the valuable library which Mr. Luttrell, his father, and brother, had accumulated. The house he alienated to William Virtue, from whom, as before mentioned, it was purchased by the parish of St. George's, Hanover Square, in 1787; and the library formed a twelve-days' sale, by Messrs. Leigh and Sotheby, commencing on the 6th of March, 1786. The auction-catalogue contained 2788 lots; and some idea of the value may be formed from the circumstance, that nine of the first seventeen lots sold for no less a sum than 32 pounds 7s., and that four lots of old newspapers, Nos. 25, 26, 27, and 28, were knocked down at 18 pounds 5s. No. '376, a collection of old plays, by Gascoigne, White, Windet, Decker, &c., 21 vols,' brought 38 pounds 17s.; and No. 644, Milton's 'Eiconoclastes,' with MS. notes, supposed to be written by Milton, was bought by Waldron for 2s., who afterwards gave it to Dr. Farmer. Dr. Dibdin declares, that "never was a precious collection of English history and poetry so wretchedly detailed to the public in an auction-catalogue" as that of Mr. Wynne's library; and yet it will be seen that it must have realised a considerable sum of money. He mentions, that "a great number of the poetical tracts were disposed of, previous to the sale, to Dr. Farmer, who gave not more than forty guineas for them."



CHAPTER III.

FROM LITTLE CHELSEA TO WALHAM GREEN.

After what has been said respecting Shaftesbury House, it may be supposed that its associations with the memory of remarkable individuals are exhausted. This is very far from being the case; and a long period in its history, from 1635 to 1699, remains to be filled up, which, however, must be done by conjecture: although so many circumstances are upon record, that it is not impossible others can be produced to complete a chain of evidence that may establish among those who have been inmates of the ADDITIONAL WORKHOUSE OF ST. GEORGE'S, HANOVER SQUARE—startling as the assertion may appear—two of the most illustrious individuals in the annals of this country; of one of whom Bishop Burnet observed, {110} that his "loss is lamented by all learned men;" the other, a man whose "great and distinguishing knowledge was the knowledge of human nature or the powers and operations of the mind, in which he went further, and spoke clearer, than all other writers who preceded him, and whose 'Essay on the Human Understanding' is the best book of logic in the world." After this, I need scarcely add that BOYLE and LOCKE are the illustrious individuals referred to.

The amiable John Evelyn, in his 'Diary,' mentions his visiting Mr. Boyle at Chelsea, on the 9th March, 1661, in company "with that excellent person and philosopher, Sir Robert Murray," where they "saw divers effects of the eolipile for weighing air." And in the same year M. de Monconys, a French traveller in England, says, "L'apres dine je fus avec M. Oldenburg, {111} et mon fils, a deux milles de Londres en carosse pour cinq chelins a un village nomme le petit Chelsey, voir M. Boyle." Now at this period there probably was no other house at Little Chelsea of sufficient importance to be the residence of the Hon. Robert Boyle, where he could receive strangers in his laboratory and show them his great telescope; and, moreover, notwithstanding what has been said to prove the impossibility of Locke having visited Lord Shaftesbury on this spot, local tradition continues to assert that Locke's work on the 'Human Understanding' was commenced in the retirement of one of the summer-houses of Lord Shaftesbury's residence. This certainly may have been the case if we regard Locke as a visitor to his brother philosopher, Boyle, and admit his tenancy of the mansion previous to that of Lord Shaftesbury, to whom Locke, it is very probable, communicated the circumstance, and which might have indirectly led to his lordship's purchase of the premises. Be that as it may, it is an interesting association, with something more than mere fancy for its support, to contemplate a communion between two of the master-minds of the age, and the influence which their conversation possibly had upon that of the other.

Boyle's sister, the puritanical Countess of Warwick, under date 27th November, 1666, makes the following note: "In the morning, as soon as dressed, I prayed, then went with my lord to my house at Chelsea, which he had hired, where I was all that day taken up with business about my house." {112} Whether this refers to Little Chelsea or not is more than I can affirm, although there are reasons for thinking that Shaftesbury House, or, if not, one which will be subsequently pointed out, is the house alluded to.

Charles, the fourth Earl of Orrery, and grand-nephew to Boyle the philosopher, was born at Dr. Whittaker's house at Little Chelsea on the 21st July, 1674. It was his grandfather's marriage with Lady Margaret Howard, daughter of the Earl of Suffolk, that induced the witty Sir John Suckling to write his well-known 'Ballad upon a Wedding,' in which he so lusciously describes the bride:—

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

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

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

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

Mr. Faulkner's 'History of Kensington,' published in 1820, and in which parish the portion of Little Chelsea on the north side of the Fulham Road stands, mentions the residence of Sir Bartholomew Shower, an eminent lawyer, in 1693; Sir Edward Ward, lord chief baron of the Exchequer, in 1697; Edward Fowler, lord bishop of Gloucester, in 1709, who died at his house here on the 26th August, 1714; and Sir William Dawes, lord bishop of Chester, in 1709, who, I may add, died Archbishop of York in 1724. But in Mr. Faulkner's 'History of Chelsea,' published in 1829, nothing more is to be found respecting Sir Bartholomew Shower than that he was engaged in some parochial law proceedings in 1691. Sir Edward Ward's residence is unnoticed. The Bishop of Gloucester, who is said to have been a devout believer in fairies and witchcraft, is enumerated among the inhabitants of Paradise Row, Chelsea (near the hospital, and full a mile distant from le petit Chelsey); and Sir William Dawes, we find from various entries, an inhabitant of the parish between the years 1696 and 1712, but without "a local habitation" being assigned to him. All this is very unsatisfactory to any one whose appetite craves after map-like accuracy in parish affairs.

Bowack, in 1705, mentions that

"At Little Chelsea stands a regular handsome house, with a noble courtyard and good gardens, built by Mr. Mart, now inhabited by Sir John Cope, Bart., a gentleman of an ancient and honourable family, who formerly was eminent in the service of his country abroad, and for many years of late in Parliament, till he voluntarily retired here to end his days in peace."

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

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

—of the Sir John Cope who was forced to retreat from Preston Pans in "the '45," and against whom all the shafts of Jacobite ribaldry have been levelled?

Faulkner says that this house, which was "subsequently occupied by the late Mr. Duffield as a private madhouse, has been pulled down, and its site is now called Odell's Place, a little eastward of Lord Shaftesbury's;" that is to say, opposite to Manor Hall, and Sir John Cope's house was not improbably the residence of two distinguished naval officers, Sir James Wishart and Sir John Balchen. The former was made an admiral, and knighted by Queen Anne in 1703, and appointed one of the lords of the Admiralty, but was dismissed from the naval service by George I. for favouring the interests of the Pretender, and died at Little Chelsea on the 30th of May, 1723. In the 'Daily Courant,' Monday, July 15, 1723, the following advertisement appears:—

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

"N.B. A coach and chariot to be sold, and the house to be let."

Admiral Sir John Balchen resided at Little Chelsea soon after Sir James Wishart's death. In 1744, Admiral Balchen perished in the Victory, of 120 guns, which had the reputation of being the most beautiful ship in the world, but foundered, with eleven hundred souls on board, in the Bay of Biscay.

On the 31st of March, 1723, Edward Hyde, the third Earl of Clarendon, died "at his house, Little Chelsea;" but where the earl's house stood I am unable to state.

Mrs. Robinson, the fascinating "Perdita," tells us, in her autobiography, that, at the age of ten (1768), she was "placed for education in a school at Chelsea." And she then commences a most distressing narrative, in which the last tragic scene she was witness to occurred at Little Chelsea.

"The mistress of this seminary," Mrs. Robinson describes as "perhaps one of the most extraordinary women that ever graced, or disgraced, society. Her name was Meribah Lorrington. She was the most extensively accomplished female that I ever remember to have met with; her mental powers were no less capable of cultivation than superiorly cultivated. Her father, whose name was Hull, had from her infancy been master of an academy at Earl's Court, near Fulham; and early after his marriage, losing his wife, he resolved on giving this daughter a masculine education. Meribah was early instructed in all the modern accomplishments, as well as in classical knowledge. She was mistress of the Latin, French, and Italian languages; she was said to be a perfect arithmetician and astronomer, and possessed the art of painting on silk to a degree of exquisite perfection. But, alas! with all these advantages, she was addicted to one vice, which at times so completely absorbed her faculties as to deprive her of every power, either mental or corporeal. Thus, daily and hourly, her superior acquirements, her enlightened understanding, yielded to the intemperance of her ruling infatuation, and every power of reflection seemed absorbed in the unfeminine propensity.

"All that I ever learned," adds Mrs. Robinson, "I acquired from this extraordinary woman. In those hours when her senses were not intoxicated, she would delight in the task of instructing me. She had only five or six pupils, and it was my lot to be her particular favourite. She always, out of school, called me her little friend, and made no scruple of conversing with me (sometimes half the night, for I slept in her chamber) on domestic and confidential affairs. I felt for her very sincere affection, and I listened with peculiar attention to all the lessons she inculcated. Once I recollect her mentioning the particular failing which disgraced so intelligent a being. She pleaded, in excuse of it, the unmitigable regret of a widowed heart, and with compunction declared that she flew to intoxication as the only refuge from the pang of prevailing sorrow."

Mrs. Robinson remained more than twelve months under the care of Mrs. Lorrington,

"When pecuniary derangements obliged her to give up her school. Her father's manners were singularly disgusting, as was his appearance, for he wore a silvery beard, which reached to his breast, and a kind of Persian robe, which gave him the external appearance of a necromancer. He was of the Anabaptist persuasion, and so stern in his conversation, that the young pupils were exposed to perpetual terror; added to these circumstances, the failing of his daughter became so evident, that even during school-hours she was frequently in a state of confirmed intoxication."

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

"For this purpose, a convenient house was hired at Little Chelsea, and furnished for a ladies' boarding-school. Assistants of every kind were engaged, and I," says Mrs. Robinson, "was deemed worthy of an occupation that flattered my self-love, and impressed my mind with a sort of domestic consequence. The English language was my department in the seminary, and I was permitted to select passages both in prose and verse for the studies of my infant pupils; it was also my occupation to superintend their wardrobes, to see them dressed and undressed by the servants, or half-boarders, and to read sacred and moral lessons on saints' days and Sunday evenings.

"Shortly after my mother had established herself at Chelsea, on a summer's evening, as I was sitting at the window, I heard a deep sigh, or rather groan of anguish, which suddenly attracted my attention. The night was approaching rapidly, and I looked towards the gate before the house, where I observed a woman, evidently labouring under excessive affliction. I instantly descended and approached her. She, bursting into tears, asked whether I did not know her. Her dress was torn and filthy; she was almost naked, and an old bonnet, which nearly hid her face, so completely disfigured her features, that I had not the smallest idea of the person who was then almost sinking before me. I gave her a small sum of money, and inquired the cause of her apparent agony. She took my hand, and pressed it to her lips. 'Sweet girl,' said she, 'you are still the angel I ever knew you!' I was astonished. She raised her bonnet; her fine dark eyes met mine. It was Mrs. Lorrington. I led her into the house; my mother was not at home. I took her to my chamber, and, with the assistance of a lady, who was our French teacher, I clothed and comforted her. She refused to say how she came to be in so deplorable a situation, and took her leave. It was in vain that I entreated—that I conjured her to let me know where I might send to her. She refused to give me her address, but promised that in a few days she would call on me again. It is impossible to describe the wretched appearance of this accomplished woman. The failing to which she had now yielded, as to a monster that would destroy her, was evident, even at the moment when she was speaking to me. I saw no more of her; but, to my infinite regret, I was informed, some years after, that she had died, the martyr of a premature decay, brought on by the indulgence of her propensity to intoxication—in the workhouse of Chelsea!"

Mrs. Robinson adds, that—

"The number of my mother's pupils in a few months amounted to ten or twelve; and, just at a period when an honourable independence promised to cheer the days of an unexampled parent, my father unexpectedly returned from America. The pride of his soul was deeply wounded by the step which my mother had taken; he was offended even beyond the bounds of reason.

* * * * *

"At the expiration of eight months, my mother, by my father's positive commands, broke up her establishment, and returned to London."

Nearly opposite to the workhouse is the West Brompton Brewery, formerly called "Holly Wood Brewery," and immediately beyond it an irregular row of six houses, which stand a little way back from the road, with small gardens before them. The first house is now divided into two, occupied, when the sketch was made in 1844, by Miss Read's academy (Tavistock House) and Mrs. Corder's Preparatory School; the latter (Bolton House) to be distinguished by two ornamented stone-balls on the piers of the gateway, was a celebrated military academy, at which many distinguished soldiers have been educated. [Picture: Bolton House gateway] The academy was established about the year 1770, by Mr. Lewis Lochee, who died on the 5th of April, 1787, and who, in 1778, published an 'Essay on Castrametation.' "The premises," says Mr. Faulkner, "which were laid out as a regular fortification, and were open to view, excited much attention at the time." When balloons were novelties, and it was supposed might be advantageously used in the operations of warfare, they attracted considerable notice; and, on the 16th of October, 1784, Mr. Blanchard ascended from the grounds of the Military Academy, near Chelsea. The anxiety to witness this exhibition is thus described in a contemporary account:—

"The fields for a considerable way round Little Chelsea were crowded with horse and foot; in consequence of which a general devastation took place in the gardens, the produce being either trampled down or torn up. The turnip grounds were totally despoiled by the multitude. All the windows and houses round the academy were filled with people of the first fashion. Every roof within view was covered, and each tree filled with spectators."

Mr. Blanchard, upon this occasion, ascended with some difficulty, accompanied by a Mr. Sheldon, a surgeon, whom he landed at Sunbury, from whence Blanchard proceeded in his balloon to Romsey, in Hampshire, where he came down in safety, after having been between three and four hours in the air.

After Mr. Lochee's death, his son, Mr. Lewis Lochee, continued the establishment which his father had formed, but, unfortunately for himself, engaged in the revolutionary movements which agitated Flanders in 1790; where, "being taken prisoner by the Austrians, he was condemned to be hanged. He, however, obtained permission to come to England to settle his affairs, upon condition of leaving his only son as a hostage; and, upon his return to the Continent, he suffered the punishment of death." {120}

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

The residence beyond Mr. Lochee's Military Academy is named WARWICK HOUSE—why, unless, possibly, the name has some reference to Boyle's brother-in-law, the Earl of Warwick, I am at a loss to determine. The next house is Amyot House. Then comes MULBERRY HOUSE, formerly the residence of Mr. Denham, a brother of the lamented African traveller, Colonel Denham. The fifth house is called HECKFIELD LODGE, an arbitrary name bestowed by its late occupant, Mr. Milton, the author of two clever novels, 'Rivalry,' and 'Lady Cecilia Farrencourt,' recently published, and brother to the popular authoress, Mrs. Trollope. And the sixth and last house in the row, on the west side of which is Walnut-tree Walk, leading to Earl's Court and Kensington, is distinguished by the name of Burleigh House, which, some one humorously observed, {121} might possibly be a contraction of "hurley burley," the house being a ladies' school, and the unceasing work of education, on the main Fulham Road, appearing here for the first time to terminate. [Picture: Burleigh House (1844)] The following entry, however, in the parish register of Kensington, respecting the birth of the fourth Earl of Exeter, on the 21st of May, 1674, may suggest a more probable derivation:—"15 May. Honble. John Cecill, son and heir apparent of the Rt. Honble. John Lord Burleigh and the Lady Anne his wife born at Mr. Sheffield's."

William Boscawen, the amiable and accomplished translator of Horace, resided at Burleigh House; and here he died, on the 6th of May, 1811, at the age of fifty-nine. He had been called to the bar, but gave up that profession in 1786, on being appointed a commissioner for victualling the navy. An excellent classical scholar, and warmly attached to literary pursuits, Mr. Boscawen published, in 1793, the first volume of a new translation of Horace, containing the 'Odes,' 'Epodes,' and 'Carmen Saeculare.' This, being well received, was followed up by Mr. Boscawen, in 1798, by his translation of the 'Satires, Epistles, and Art of Poetry,'—completing a work considered to be in many respects superior to Francis's translation. As an early patron and zealous friend of the Literary Fund, Mr. Boscawen's memory will be regarded with respect. Within five days of his death, he wrote a copy of verses for the anniversary meeting, which he contemplated attending:—

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

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

Alas! the hand which on May morning had penned this introduction to an appeal in the cause of literary benevolence,—that hand was cold; and the lips by which, on the following day, the words that had flowed warmly from the heart were to have been uttered,—those lips were mute in death within a week.

On the 16th of April, 1765, Mr. James House Knight, of Walham Green, returning home from London, was robbed and murdered on the highroad in the vicinity of Little Chelsea; the record of his burial in the parish register of Kensington is, "Shot in Fulham Road, near Brompton." For the discovery of the murderers a reward of fifty pounds was offered; and, on the 7th of July following, two Chelsea pensioners were committed to prison, charged with this murder, on the testimony of their accomplice, another Chelsea pensioner, whom they had threatened to kill upon some quarrel taking place between them. The accused were tried, found guilty, hanged, and gibbeted; one nearly opposite Walnut-tree Walk, close by the two-mile stone, the other at Bull Lane, a passage about a quarter of a mile farther on, which connects the main Fulham Road with the King's Road, by the side of the Kensington Canal. In these positions, for some years, the bodies of the murderers hung in chains, to the terror of benighted travellers and of market-gardeners, who

"Wended their way, In morning's grey,"

towards Covent Garden, until a drunken frolic caused the removal of a painful and useless exhibition. A very interesting paper upon London life in the last century occurs in the second volume of Knight's 'London;' in which it is observed that "a gibbet's tassel" was one of the first sights which met the eye of a stranger approaching London from the sea.

"About the middle of the last century, similar objects met the gaze of the traveller by whatever route he entered the metropolis. 'All the gibbets in the Edgware Road,' says an extract from the newspapers of the day in the 'Annual Register' for 1763, 'on which many malefactors were being hung in chains, were cut down by persons unknown.' The all and the many of this cool matter-of-fact announcement conjure up the image of a long avenue planted with 'gallows-trees,' instead of elms and poplars,—an assemblage of pendent criminals, not exactly 'thick as leaves that strew the brook in Valombrosa,' but frequent as those whose feet tickling Sancho's nose, when he essayed to sleep in the cork forest, drove him from tree to tree in search of an empty bough.

"Frequent mention is made in the books, magazines, and newspapers of that period, of the bodies of malefactors conveyed after execution to Blackheath, Finchley, and Kennington Commons, or Hounslow Heath, for the purpose of being there permanently suspended. In those days the approach to London on all sides seems to have lain through serried files of gibbets, growing closer and more thronged as the distance from the city diminished, till they and their occupants arranged themselves in rows of ghastly and grinning sentinels along both sides of the principal avenues."

This picture is not over-coloured; and it is to the following occurrence in the main Fulham Road that the removal of these offensive exhibitions is to be attributed. Two or three fashionable parsons, who had sacrificed superabundantly to the jolly god at Fulham, returning to London, where they desired to arrive quickly, had intellect enough to discover that the driver of their post-chaise did not make his horses proceed at a pace equal to their wishes, and, after in vain urging him to more speed, one of them declared that, if he did not use his whip with better effect, he should be made an example of for the public benefit, and hanged up at the first gibbet. The correctness of the old saying, that "when the head is hot the hand is ready," was soon verified by the postboy being desired to stop at the gibbet opposite Walnut-tree Walk, which order, unluckily for himself, he obeyed, instead of proceeding at a quicker pace. Out sprung the inmates of his chaise; they seized him, bound him hand and foot, and throwing a rope, which they had fastened round his body, over the gibbet, he soon found himself, in spite of his cries and entreaties, elevated in air beside the tarred remains of the Chelsea pensioner.

The reverend perpetrators of the deed drove off, leaving the luckless postboy to protest, loudly and vainly, to "the dull, cold ear of death," against the loathsome companionship. When the first market-gardener's cart passed by, most lustily did he call for help; but every effort to get free only tended to prolong his suspense. What could the carters and other early travellers imagine upon hearing shouts proceeding from the gibbet, but that the identical murderer of Mr. Knight had by some miracle come to life, and now called out, "Stop! stop!" with the intention of robbing and murdering them also? And they, feeling that supernatural odds were against them, ran forwards or backwards, not daring to look behind, as fast as their feet could carry alarmed and bewildered heads, leaving the fate of their carts to the sagacity of the horses. Finding that the louder he called for help the more alarm he excited, the suspended postboy determined philosophically to endure the misery of his situation in dignified silence. But there he was suffered to hang unnoticed; or, if remarked, it was only concluded that another criminal had been added to the gibbet, as its second tassel. The circumstance, however, of a second body having been placed there speedily came to the knowledge of a magistrate in the neighbourhood, who had taken an active part in the apprehension of Mr. Knight's murderers; and he proceeded, without delay, to the spot, that he might satisfy himself as to the correctness of the report. Judge, however, his astonishment on hearing himself addressed by name from the gibbet, and implored, in the most piteous manner, to deliver from bondage a poor postboy, whose only offence was that he would not goad on two overworked horses to humour a pair of drunken gentlemen. These "drunken gentlemen" are said to have been men of rank and influence: their names have never transpired, but the outrage with which they were charged led to the immediate removal from the Fulham Road of the last pair of gibbets which disgraced it.

Upon the ground which was occupied by the gibbet where the kind-hearted postboy was strung up, a solitary cottage stood some years ago; and tradition asserted, that both the murderer and his gibbet were buried beneath it. [Picture: Solitary cottage] This cottage is now pulled down; Lansdowne Villas and Hollywood Place have been erected on the spot, and villas and groves continue to the 'Gunter Arms,' a public-house that takes its name from Richard Gunter, the well-known confectioner, by the side of which is Gunter Grove. This is now the starting-point of the Brompton omnibuses, which formerly did not go beyond Queen's Elm. Edith Grove, a turning between Lansdowne Villas and Gunter Grove, is in a direct line with Cremorne Gardens.

Proceeding on our road towards Fulham, the next point which claims attention is the extensive inclosure of the West of London and Westminster Cemetery Company,—a company incorporated by act of parliament 1st of Victoria, cap. 180. The burial-ground was consecrated on the 12th of June, 1840, and extends from the Fulham Road to what is called, generally, "Sir John Scott Lillie's Road," and sometimes "Brompton Lane Road," which, in fact, is a continuation, to North End, Fulham, of the line of the Old Brompton Road,—the point, as the reader may recollect, that we turned off from at the Bell and Horns, in order to follow the main Fulham Road to Little Chelsea. The public way on the east of the burial-ground is called Honey Lane, and on the west the boundary is the pathway by the side of the Kensington Canal. The architect of the chapel and catacombs is Mr. Benjamin Baud. The cemetery is open for public inspection, free of charge, from seven in the morning till sunset, except on Sundays, when it is closed till half-past one o'clock. The first interment took place on the 18th of June, 1840, from which time, to the 22nd of November, there were thirty-four burials, the average number being then four per week. It is scarcely necessary to add, that a considerable average increase has taken place; but the first step in statistics is always curious.

One of the most interesting instances of longevity which the annals of the West of London and Westminster Cemetery Company present occurs on a stone in the north-east corner of the burial-ground, where the age recorded of Louis Pouchee is 108; but this does not agree with the burial entry made by the Rev. Stephen Reid Cattley—"Louis Pouchee, of St. Martin's in the Fields, viz., 40 Castle Street, Leicester Square, buried Feb. 21, 1843, aged 107."