CHAPTER VI
The Architecture of the Estate
The Early Buildings
A glance at the map or a short walk through the district
will show that the Grosvenors' Mayfair estate, with its
regular grid of broad streets and narrow mews, conforms
in layout and structure to the characteristic development
patterns of early-Georgian London. But though some few
surviving buildings still remain from that period, an
equally casual inspection will reveal how much of the
original basic stratum has been concealed, overlaid or
obliterated. Nineteenth- and twentieth-century flats,
shops, office blocks and hotels have taken over upon the
peripheries of the estate, while its very centre of Grosvenor
Square has been so thoroughly rebuilt that only the
merest traces survive from the initial development there.
The four main sides of the square, to follow this example
further, are now nearly all given over to modern flats,
hotels, and diplomatic buildings, with the exception of
two embassies that occupy the only surviving 'houses';
and even these houses (Nos. 4 and 38) are rebuildings or
recastings of differing date, hardly related except in plot
to the predecessors on their sites. Only along the four
chief residential thoroughfares, Grosvenor, Upper
Grosvenor, Brook and Upper Brook Streets and towards
the bottom of South Audley Street, an outlying but
always fashionable district of the estate, can the original
Georgian fabric and character of the whole area be
readily appreciated today.
Even here, as with the surviving houses of the square,
qualifications have immediately to be made. Anywhere
in these streets, what looks like a Georgian house may be
only a Georgian façade; and, vice versa, what appears to
be a Victorian or Edwardian rebuilding may just be a
Victorian or Edwardian refronting. For throughout the
smarter parts of the estate, one rich inhabitant has continually replaced another over the years; succeeding
estate managers have, since the early nineteenth century,
enforced a strict but variable set of demands for improvements (especially to fronts); and, latterly, there has
occurred a near-universal change from single-family
occupation to offices or flats. As a result, each and every
house has been incessantly liable to refacing, internal
alterations small and large, or complete rebuilding.
All this is a common pattern on London's older and
larger leasehold estates, but it is particularly marked on
the Grosvenor estate in Mayfair, for two perhaps connected reasons. One is that the district has never lost its
high property values, nor since its construction fallen out
of fashion; the other, that its acme of repute as an upperclass residential district was reached only quite recently,
at the end of the last century and the beginning of this
one. Viewed in this light, the older areas of the estate are
a palimpsest, of no vast antiquity perhaps, yet subject to
continual rewritings. What is remarkable is not so much
that parts of the original are still decipherable, but that
these should have so vividly affected, shaped and often
fixed the labours of those that came after.
The method, organisation and chronology of the initial
development on 'The Hundred Acres' have already been
discussed in Chapter II. Something, too, has been said
of the rationale of its plain and grid-like layout (Plate 1),
evidently the work of the estate's first surveyor, Thomas
Barlow. Ambitious in scale but aesthetically unadventurous, its chief debts were to its immediate predecessors and neighbours, Lord Scarbrough's Hanover
Square development and the Cavendish-Harley estate
north of Oxford Street, both of which schemes were
initiated a little before development on the Grosvenor
estate began in 1720. (ref. 1) The one obvious dramatic feature
of Barlow's layout was, of course, Grosvenor Square—
at 680 by 530 feet larger than any previous square laid
out in London. In plan it had resemblances to Cavendish
Square (c. 1719–24), the first London square to incorporate
two roads at precise right-angles to each other running
into the corners, thus making each side of the square in
some degree a continuation of the grid of streets around
it. (ref. 2) But in Cavendish Square this occurred in only the
north-west and north-east corners, for on the south side
the only road running out of the square did so from the
middle, crossing Oxford Street and debouching into the
north side of Hanover Square. Grosvenor Square takes
the Cavendish Square principle to its logical conclusion,
with two streets running into each corner, making eight
altogether. But though the long north and south sides
might naturally have been bisected by further streets
running into the centre of the square, this was not done.
The line of George Street (present-day Balderton Street)
together with the passage known to have been projected
from Providence Court into the middle of the north side
of the square gives a hint that such a street may have been
considered but abandoned. (ref. 3) If it had been cut through,
the shorter frontages thus created would have lent themselves to expansive sites for individual noblemen's houses
such as were encouraged in Cavendish Square. That some
such scheme may seriously have been mooted is hinted
at by the survival in the Grosvenor Office of a drawing
(Plate 4a) showing neat plans and elevations for a large
house on a corner site, bigger than anything ever built in
Grosvenor Square, with a 'front to ye square' of some
seventy-five feet. Though there is nothing hut its
provenance to connect it with Grosvenor Square and it
fails to fit any of the sites as actually developed, it may
well he an early scheme for the west end of the north side,
made at a time when palatial houses were possibly being
contemplated. In style, this drawing with its distinctive
pilasters and its aprons under the windows is much more
consciously attuned to the English Baroque than anything
actually built in the square, and has a flavour of the work
of Thomas Archer (who did indeed have an interest on
the north side of the square, though at the east end, on
a site with which the drawing can have no connexion).
However, if this kind of scheme was ever seriously considered, it came to nothing. It may have been the difficulties encountered with individual noble lessees in
Cavendish Square that helped to persuade Barlow and
the Grosvenors to stick on all four frontages to the kind
of terrace housing familiar from St. James's Square and
Hanover Square, and now rising along Grosvenor and
Brook Streets. This decision, together with the arrangement of streets at the corners, meant that Grosvenor
Square was more integrated into the surrounding estate
layout than any previous square in London. But to dispel
just a little the insistent rectilinearity of the scheme, the
building line on all four sides of the square was set back
thirty feet from that of each of the incoming streets, as
on the short sides of Hanover Square. This led to extra
spaciousness in the square itself, and to the creation of
four distinctive L-shaped corner sites; on one of these
(Nos. 9 Grosvenor Square and 88 Brook Street in the
north-east corner) something of the original fabric
survives. Though the square was doubtless less easy to
take in as a whole than is suggested by early engravings
(Plate 5a), these corner sites must have helped to give to
its peripheries some much-needed solidity, and thus
contributed to its 'squareness'. In the centre, the oval
garden probably had some slight softening effect upon
the contours of the square, though the paths were strictly
formal, the planting was minimal, and the whole scheme
centred upon John Nost's gilded equestrian statue of
George I in the middle. The garden layout (1725) was
the work of the little-known John Alston; the traditional
attribution to William Kent appears to have no basis.
One other obvious feature in the planning of the estate,
also shared by the Hanover Square and CavendishHarley schemes, was the exclusion of its main public
place of worship from the square. In any comparable
French or Italian town-planning project of this date,
a church or other public institution would have been the
natural point of focus, but in England this was not the
custom, despite the early precedent of St. Paul's, Covent
Garden. St. George's, Hanover Square (1720 5), the
parish church for the Grosvenor estate and a building
with which Thomas Barlow was involved, had despite its
importance been sited outside Hanover Square itself,
rather as St. James's, Piccadilly, had been related to St.
James's Square some fifty years before. On the CavendishHarley estate, James Gibbs's Oxford Chapel (the modern
St. Peter's, Vere Street) was situated well away from
Cavendish Square and in no way emphasized. So too the
Grosvenor Chapel was allotted an equally inconspicuous
position in South Audley Street, though it did at least
have the advantage of a vista along Chapel (now Aldford)
Street. Nor can it have been deemed essential to the early
success of development, for though it was projected from
the start it was not built until 1730–2. At one stage indeed,
Edward Shepherd thought of erecting a chapel in North
Audley Street, again on a relatively modest site, but this
came to nothing; (ref. 4) the Grosvenor Chapel, when built,
became the estate's only place of established worship.
Likewise, other special buildings, whether public or
private, were equally slow to develop and tended to
occupy peripheral sites. The layout, in fact, was designed
with terrace housing alone specifically in mind, and it is
the nature of this that must now be examined.
In the 1720's and 1730's it was not as yet feasible for
a landlord to impose absolutely regular frontages upon
the London speculative building lessees of the day. But
if only because the Grosvenor estate was by far the biggest
single area of high-class domestic building at the time,
attempts were made here and there, notably in the square,
to combine individual house fronts into the kind of disciplined architectural composition beloved of the Palladians.
This has to be seen in perspective. Palladian ideals being as
yet new in the 1720's, Barlow and the master builders who
dominated the estate development still practised an architecture in the tradition of speculative building going back
to the era of Nicholas Barbon fifty years before, but
tempered by modest innovations from the school of Wren.
Further, in conjunction with the short-lived period of the
English Baroque, there appears to have been a reaction
against uniformity of town-house fronts, especially for
houses of the larger sort, and this was still reflected in the
estate development. In Grosvenor Square, the only part
of the area for which there is good evidence as to the
original appearance of the houses, the variations were
considerable. Some of them were due to the leasing history
of the various plots, some to stylistic uncertainty following
the onslaught of Palladianism, but some may have been
the outcome of a conscious desire for variety. Almost
certainly, the surrounding streets looked more uniform
and more disciplined, but this would have been in the
interests of economy rather than classicism. Nevertheless,
the Palladian movement did have much influence on the
estate. Colen Campbell, Roger Morris, William Benson,
Thomas Ripley and Edward Shepherd, five important
figures in the implementation of Palladian ideals, all had
a hand in the development. Their precise involvement is
specified elsewhere (see pages 20 2), but here something
must he said of its nature and results.
It was upon Grosvenor Square that the new movement
naturally concentrated its powers. Here Colen Campbell
contributed in 1725 an intriguing but unexecuted design
for the cast side, known only from an engraving showing
a front elevation and ground-floor plan of the whole
composition (Plate 4b). The elevation presents a striking
antithesis to speculative building traditions of the time:
an absolutely even and symmetrical range dressed in the
whole Palladian finery, with stone arches to the ground
floor, first-floor balconies, an engaged order to the upper
storeys, elaborate window dressings and balustrading
with crowning statues masking the roof. The backs of
the houses are shown on the plan as very curtailed but
absolutely regular, while no allowance is made for the
corner sites, so this was probably something of an ideal
solution. Nevertheless John Simmons, the developer of
the square's east side (Plates 5, 8a), did manage within
the limits of a plain brick architecture to maintain the
symmetry and regularity suggested by Campbell; he
raised a central pediment and emphasized the ends, thus
distinguishing the range from the rest of the square and
other parts of the estate, and setting an important precedent for London street architecture.
Campbell was very likely involved in the two long sides
of Grosvenor Square as well. A similar design of his for
a block of three houses, perhaps for the south side, was
again not followed, but on the north side the story is more
intriguing. Though lavish in the scale of its houses, this
side as built ended up as an irregular and frankly clumsy
range because of the inclusion among its façades of two
Palladian compositions with attached orders and pediments and, between them, a third less 'correct' interloper
adorned with pilasters (Plate 5). Had these buildings
balanced each other, all would have been well, but this
they failed to do, thereby exciting the derision of acerbic
critics such as James Ralph. (ref. 5) Close to the west end of the
side Edward Shepherd's massive composition occupied
three houses (Nos. 18–20, to follow modern numbering);
near the middle, the pilastered part extended over two
(Nos. 15 and 16), while to the right of centre there was just
John Aislabie's elegantly pedimented house at No. 12
(fig. 2a), conspicuous amidst a run of otherwise orthodox
fronts. Individually, Shepherd's development and the
Aislabie house were of high merit, and since Colen
Campbell had been patronised by Aislabie at Waverley
Abbey and Studley Royal and was an associate of
Shepherd's, he could have had some hand in either of
these ambitious buildings. That a 'regular range' had at
first been designed by Shepherd for the whole of the north
side is claimed by Robert Morris, (ref. 6) and it would have been
natural for Shepherd, though clearly the architect for his
development, at least to consult Campbell. It may be no
coincidence that the window surrounds on Campbell's
surviving own house, the modest No. 76 Brook Street
(fig. 2e), on a plot made available to him by Shepherd,
appear to be similar in shape, character and material to
the 'plaister' ones specified for Shepherd's Grosvenor
Square houses.
So despite the participation of two experienced undertakers, Simmons and Shepherd, and the enthusiasm of
Campbell, the pioneering Palladian, the attempt to build
uniform classical frontages in the square met with very
limited success. It was even harder where plots were
parcelled out among different builders in smaller divisions.
Outside the square, one such effort to impose a uniform
frontage on a number of builders in Upper Brook Street
as late as 1742 soon met with opposition and failed (see
page 31). Normally, the different lessees and sub-lessees
were building on plots of limited frontage with little or
no restriction as to proportion and style, and so there was
naturally opportunity for plenty of variation from house
to house. Width of plot, height and number of storeys,
proportions of windows, quality and type of brickwork on
the front: all these features varied according to the position
and status of the house in question (Plate 8b, 8c, 8e). The
simple overall layout meant that these small tendencies
to indiscipline were enlivening rather than disruptive,
whereas an elaborate composition in town planning might
have been wrecked by them.
Along the estate's chief streets and in most of the square,
the effect was quite different from the monotonous
regularity of later Georgian thoroughfares like Baker
Street or Gower Street. Instead, the finished appearance
must have consisted of variations upon the well-tried but
ever fertile theme of flat, stock-brick fronts, of unpredictable width and slightly irregular height (fig. 2).
Where two or more houses were undertaken together,
there was sometimes no architectural break between
them; more frequently, it was the practice to draw attention to the division by means of projecting brick piers or
'pilaster strips', a favourite device along the estate's main
streets and one probably borrowed from the Hanover
Square development. These curious strips, which can
still be seen in places in Grosvenor Street, gave definition
to the individual houses. Where adjacent plots were
developed by a single builder, the strips would usually
span the party wall. Elsewhere they were less formally
organized, belonging sometimes to one house, sometimes
to another (Plate 8c), and a few of the widest plots included
two strips, to the deprivation of their narrower neighbours. Sometimes these strips were plain, sometimes
rusticated like quoins. In the square itself, proper stone
quoins were common (Plate 8a), but this seems to have
been infrequent elsewhere, though there are surviving
examples at No. 16 Grosvenor Street and Nos. 35–36
Upper Brook Street (Plate 6b; fig. 2f). At the ends of
these unevenly divided but otherwise flat-fronted ranges,
it became a charming habit to give the return frontages
to some of the corner houses delightful bay windows or
other features to the upper storeys, carried out on piers
or pillars and sometimes projecting right over the pavement. Though the only examples that survive are
those at Nos. 9 and 71 South Audley Street (Plate 6d),
these upper-storey projections (which may frequently
have been early additions) were not uncommon, and
were also to sprout here and there along the main
frontages.

Figure 2:
EARLY-GEORGIAN ELEVATIONS
a. No. 12 Grosvenor Square. Lessee, John Kitchingman (timber merchant), 1727; architect, possibly Colen Campbell for
John Aislabie, the first occupant. Demolished
b. No. 51 Grosvenor Street. Lessee, Israel Russell (painter), by direction of Benjamin Timbrell (carpenter), 1724
c. No. 48 Upper Grosvenor Street. Lessee, William Hanmer (esquire), 1727 builder,
Robert Phillips (bricklayer)
d. No. 13 South Audley Street. Lessee, William Singleton (plasterer), 1736
e. No. 76 Brook Street. Lessee, Colen Campbell (architect), 1726
f. No. 35 Upper Brook Street. Sub-lessee, Anthony Cross (mason), 1737
As for the fronts themselves, these were of anything
between two and five windows' width. The windows
generally were still segment-headed, with their wooden
frames set well back in accordance with the Building Act
of 1709, and their surrounds dressed liberally with red
cutters and rubbers to set off the grey-brown of the stock
bricks. Indeed many of the original fronts were probably
quite colourful, to make up for the lack of stonework.
Stone dressings were common only in the square and other
special places; elsewhere, bold plaster cornices and
wooden doorcases ruled the day. In height, there was
rough uniformity along the main streets, but little attempt
to make storey levels coincide. Three storeys above
ground sufficed for Georgian wants, with a further one
in the attic, usually with dormers perching over the
cornice and set within a roof of double pitch, or more
rarely treated as a fourth full storey flush with the front.
The whole house would be raised upon a basement storey,
its front area protected by stout iron railings (a feature
often specified in the building agreements) and frequently
containing an ornamental lead cistern.
Though none of these terrace fronts along the main
streets remains absolutely unscathed, two sets of houses
designed as pairs, Nos. 44 and 45 Upper Grosvenor
Street and Nos. 35 and 36 Upper Brook Street, are good
but rather different types of survivors (Plate 6a, 6b;
fig. 2f). Both pairs were built in two tones of brickwork;
but in Upper Grosvenor Street the houses (c. 1727–31)
have the segmental window heads and wooden doorcases
typical of early development, whereas the later Upper
Brook Street houses (c. 1737–42) adopt the embellishments by then familiar from the square, of string courses
between the storeys, stone quoins, keystones, and rusticated door surrounds. All four of these houses have had
balconies added and windows lengthened at first-floor
level, and the Upper Grosvenor Street houses have been
heightened. Similar changes have been made at Nos. 70
and 76 Brook Street, 51 Grosvenor Street, 10 and 13
South Audley Street, and 48 Upper Grosvenor Street, all
terrace houses whose fronts still have much of their old
character, without more than the most superficial admixture of stucco (fig. 2b–f).
Photographs of the lost Grosvenor Square houses confirm the slightly different picture there already suggested.
The houses whose fronts survived best until the square's
recent rebuilding were No. 1 on the east, Nos. 12, 14 and
17 on the north, No. 25 on the west, and Nos. 37, 44 and
46 on the south. But of this group, if those on the north
and east side bear out the greater formality intimated in
early engravings, the south side ones show the extent
to which a pre-Palladian brick architecture continued
even in the square. No. 44, one of a row of similar houses
here, was particularly attractively organised, with the
red dressings flanking the windows carried up without
break between the floors to cornice level; this emphasized the pilaster strips at either end and gave the
whole building a strong vertical accent, augmented by
treating the attic as a full storey flush with the front
(Plate 7).
The smaller residential houses of the estate have nearly
all been demolished (Plate 8e). But the survivors show
that they differed in scale and plan rather than in front
from their superiors. A well-preserved group at Nos.
70–78 (even) Park Street, originally quite a respectable
row of small houses and including an almost untouched
façade at No. 72, gives an idea of the appearance of some
of the secondary streets, a sequence of modest fronts in
two tones of brick (Plate 8b). Further down the social
scale, the disappearance has been total. Simplicity must
have been the rule, since in many districts tenements with
only a single room per floor were crammed into a riddle
of back alleys, as in Brown's Court, Green Street, one of
the few places of this kind for which we have a reliable
plan (see fig. 1 on page 32).
In general, most of the lesser houses on the estate
followed the common London terrace plan. It is well
known that in the late seventeenth century there evolved
a standard arrangement for the smaller London terrace
house, consisting of two rooms per floor, a dog-leg staircase rising alongside the back room and, often enough,
an additional small rear parlour or closet facing the yard.
This plan appears, for instance, throughout Nos. 70–78
(even) Park Street and in many places along the main
streets where frontages were narrow (fig. 3a), but it could
also be used outside a strictly residential context. At this
period there were no special plans for shops, taverns or
even small manufactories, and this established arrangement quickly proved itself both adaptable and economic.
As a result the standard plan became the norm in streets
of mixed character like Mount Street and Duke Street,
where for over a century it steadily continued to perform
the varied functions laid upon it.
But though this plan suited small houses, it would not
do for the smarter parts of the estate, which abounded in
generous frontages and deep plots leading right through
to stables some 150 feet or more away. A separate servants'
staircase was hard to include in the standard arrangement,
and the areas of circulation and main stairs themselves
tended to he cramped. Alternatives of several kinds were
evolving for larger houses at the time the estate was being
developed; consequently the individuality of the firstclass Grosvenor estate house was more strikingly expressed
in its plan than in its elevation (fig. 3).
Where a secondary staircase was felt to he de rigueur,
the most fashionable plan, much employed on the recently
built Burlington estate, (ref. 7) was to have a 'great stair' starting
from the front compartment of the house inside the
entrance hall and turning back towards the street, from
which it was lit (fig. 3f). This staircase rose only to the
first-floor reception rooms; the upper storeys were served
by separate stairs (usually with a toplight high above)
which was situated behind the great stair in the central or
back compartment of the house and climbed most or all
of the way from basement to attic. Houses of this kind
were built throughout the square and surrounding streets
where the plots were of thirty-foot frontage or over,
allowing at least four windows towards the street, sometimes five, and therefore giving enough space for ample
front rooms on ground and first floors beside the great
stair. Examples with parts or more of the main stairs
surviving can still be seen at Nos. 67 Brook Street, 34 and
59 Grosvenor Street (Plate 9b, 9d), and 14 and 74 South
Audley Street, and plans remain of many other lost
ones, e.g. at No. 43 Grosvenor Street (fig. 3f). It must
have been a particularly common type in the square,
but there documentation of the original plans is sadly
scant.
Although this was the most distinctive and fully evolved
type of plan for the larger terrace house, there were plenty
of other options available. One was the central toplit
staircase arrangement, whereby the entrance hall was left
clear and the great stair, lit by a skylight high above, rose
immediately behind to first-floor level, with the secondary
staircase again behind that and sometimes relegated right
to the very back of the house beyond a large reception
room. The advantage of this disposition, which survives
at No. 33 Grosvenor Street and can be clearly seen on
plans of various demolished houses, for instance Nos. 43
and 45 Brook Street (fig. 3g, h), was to allow a large room
facing the front at first-floor level, which compensated
for loss of living space on the ground floor below. This
plan was relatively novel when it first appeared on the
Grosvenor estate, but was to grow in popularity throughout the eighteenth century; the lengthy rear wings often
incorporated in such arrangements were commonly used
as private suites, for the master of the house on the ground
floor, for the mistress on the floor above. In its full form,
the central toplit plan was again at its best for houses of
four or five windows' width, but it could also be used in
a curtailed version for those of three windows' width;
in houses of this kind the need for a separate servants'
staircase was beginning to be increasingly felt. A remarkable variant survives at No. 44 and originally existed also
at No. 45 Upper Grosvenor Street (fig. 3d), both threebay houses, where the back stairs are in parallel to the
main staircase, which is toplit from a low dome in the
centre; this creates a fine effect but necessarily curtails
the size of the rooms at front and back. In other houses
of three windows' width, for instance No. 16 Upper
Grosvenor Street (fig. 3b), the presence of a conventional
dog-leg staircase did not inhibit the inclusion of a
secondary one, placed behind the rear wing closet and
accessible only through the back room on each floor. For
houses on the estate without back stairs, a central staircase was also a common variant from the conventional
type of plan, as it long had been. In various houses of
lesser width of frontage like Nos. 10 and 73 South Audley
Street and No. 38 Upper Brook Street (before alteration)
the toplit stairs were thrust between front and back rooms
with small closets or passages behind (fig. 3c). This was
basically an old-fashioned arrangement, especially when
the staircase was of the dog-leg variety, but it survived
well into the 1730's and beyond.
Happily, there is good proof to show how heterogeneous the plans of the houses along the main streets
really were. There survives at the Grosvenor Office
a large body of ground-floor plans of individual houses,
showing their state round about the beginning of the
nineteenth century; these were made by William Porden
and his assistants for the purposes of leasing, at the time
that the estate management was being put upon a more
professional footing. By this date many of the houses had
already been altered, and as the drawings were done at
different times they vary in detail and accuracy. But when
used judiciously together with a survey made by Robert
Taylor and George Shakespear in 1778–9 showing in
detail the triangle within Davies Street, Grosvenor Street,
and South Molton Lane/Avery Row (fig. 4), they demonstrate the variety of possible arrangement. For instance,
the relative frequency of the three main plan types is
given by the crude statistic that of some 120 fully enclosed
terrace houses along Brook, Upper Brook, Grosvenor
and Upper Grosvenor Streets for which the arrangement
is known, 51 were of the conventional staircase type,
35 had their chief staircase in the front compartment,
and 33 had some form of main central stairs. More sense
can be made of these figures in terms of plot widths and
the presence of secondary stairs. In Grosvenor Square,
where frontages habitually exceeded thirty-five feet in
breadth and had more than three windows, few if any
houses had the conventional staircase arrangement, and
none is known to have been without back stairs. In the
surrounding streets, the houses of three windows' width
and approximately twenty-five feet in frontage are the
unpredictable ones. If they had back stairs, usually they
adopted some form of main central staircase, but if they
omitted back stairs, either the conventional type or a
central staircase was possible. To sum up, a central staircase could be found in all kinds of houses, while a front
compartment staircase tended to be reserved for those of
wide frontage and a conventional dog-leg staircase for narrow ones of three bays or less.

Figure 3:
EARLY-GEORGIAN GROUND-FLOOR PLANS
The dates are of building leases or sub-leases
a. No. 13 Upper Brook Street, 1728. Demolished.
b. No. 16 Upper Grosvenor Street, 1730.
c. No. 38 Upper Brook Street, 1736.
d. No. 45 Upper Grosvenor Street, 1727.
e. No. 36 Grosvenor Street, 1726.
Demolished. f. No. 43 Grosvenor Street, 1726.
g. No. 45 Brook Street, 1723.
Demolished. h. No. 43 Brook Street, 1725
Demolished. i. No. 47 Brook Street, 1723.
Demolished
In houses of the largest size, the characteristics of the
terrace house plan might be virtually lost and much of the
spaciousness of the nobleman's free-standing town house
could be obtained, despite enclosure. In examples like
No. 47 Brook Street (with a frontage of forty feet but,
curiously, only three windows towards the street) or No. 19
Grosvenor Square (five windows wide with a sixty-foot
frontage), the entrance was in the centre of the façade, and
the plan resolved itself into a series of separate but equal
compartments en suite, with toplit stairs where required
(fig. 31). Despite the efforts of Simmons and Shepherd to
create symmetrical compositions, this grandest of all the
house types was the distinct exception, even in Grosvenor
Square. Thus Isaac Ware, propagandizing in his Complete
Body of Architecture on behalf of a Palladian programme
for symmetrically planned town houses, found cause to
complain of 'one very striking instance of placing the
door out of the centre. This errs both in proportion and
situation, and must be named as a caution to the young
builder. The house is in Grosvenor Square; the edifice is
large and conspicuous, but one is puzzled to find which
is the way into it. It appears a house without a door, and
when the eye is cast upon the little entrance at one side,
one scarce knows how to suppose it is the door to that
house; it seems to belong to the next.' (ref. 8)
An analysis of the plan types and plot widths offers no
logical answer to the question of why small and large
houses were so closely intermingled along the four main
streets. In Grosvenor Street there was some tendency
for the grander houses to be sited nearer the square, and
there were few plots in Upper Brook Street and Upper
Grosvenor Street with the width of frontage sometimes
found in Brook and Grosvenor Streets, but to both these
rules there are exceptions. The size of houses erected in
any one area depended upon the inclinations, capacities
and ambitions of the developers, especially when they
were taking large plots, and not upon any clear conception
on the part of Thomas Barlow or any other officer of the
estate. To take one instance visible on the 1778–9 survey
plan mentioned above (fig. 4), the north side of Brook
Street between Davies Street and South Molton Lane
was taken in 1720 by Henry Avery and Robert Pollard
as one lot. Fifteen small houses, nearly all of conventional
plan and probably of quite uniform appearance, were built
here, though scarcely anything of them survives today.
Yet immediately opposite on a strip of similar length
along the south side of Brook Street, the land was divided
between several undertakers; here only eleven houses
were built, but these were of greater size and varying plan.
The rich and the not-so-rich were therefore staring each
other in the face, a situation which had polarized by the
1780's, when the majority of the houses on the north side
were occupied by tradesmen. In 1805, when William
Porden was asked to consider the conversion of one of the
south side houses into a hotel, he reported that the good
houses here were neither so fashionable nor so profitable
as they ought to have been, because of the proximity of
lesser ones. (ref. 9) There was a similar contrast (though less
sharp) in Grosvenor Street east of Davies Street, where
most of the houses on the north side were smaller than
those on the south. Why the better class of house in the
eastern parts of both these streets occupied the south sides
we do not know. In Upper Brook and Upper Grosvenor
Streets, nearly all the houses had frontages of between
twenty and thirty-five feet and there was much less
unevenness between the sides.

Figure 4:
Plan of area east of Davies Street and north of Grosvenor Street, showing ground-plan of buildings. From a survey of 1778–9 by Robert Taylor and George Shakespear. Original torn in places as indicated. The vacant house plots were not surveyed
Despite the remains of much original work here and
there, a clear idea of how the interiors of these houses first
appeared or how they functioned is hard to come by. In
view of later attempts, often successful, to convey a 'period'
authenticity in their redecoration, the nature of the
original schemes cannot easily be seen objectively. The
evidence of memoirs and correspondence is scanty, building accounts rarely survive and are even less frequently
helpful; early inventories, however, are not so uncommon,
and have been much depended upon for what follows.
From our review of its planning, it is plain that the
early Georgian first-class terrace house on the Grosvenor
estate was rarely a composition of great formality. One
reflection of this is the nomenclature of rooms, which
were most often designated not by their function but by
their position or sometimes by their embellishment. On
the ground floor were the parlours, usually 'fore parlour'
and 'back parlour', the normal focus of private family
activity. At first-floor level the front room, especially if
it was at the head of a 'great stair', might be the grandest
room of the house in which guests were received and
entertained. More remarkably, the 'eating room' was often
also at this level. It was certainly so at Handel's house, just
off the estate at No. 25 Brook Street; (ref. 10) inventories of
1757 and 1772 show dining-rooms at first-floor level at
Nos. 9 and 6 Grosvenor Square respectively; (ref. 11) and in
1756 Isaac Ware takes it for granted that the dining-room
of an ordinary house would naturally come over the hall. (ref. 12)
Still, by the mid century, dining-rooms were sometimes
at ground level, more often at the front. Thus at No. 29
Grosvenor Square, a schedule of 1746 mentions one on
the first floor, but by 1757 it has descended to ground
level. (ref. 13) In the best houses, this change meant the reorganization of the ground-floor parlour so as to make
a capacious room with a recess or sometimes a screen of
pillars marking off the serving area, thus often curtailing
the back room behind (figs, 3h, 4). By 1800 many of the
houses on the estate had been altered in this way, but it
is a moot point whether in some the change did not take
place shortly after completion; at No. 50 Grosvenor
Square, a surviving set of what appear to be very early
plans already shows this arrangement. (ref. 14)
A dining-room on the first floor must have meant a
long trek from the kitchen; this was most frequently in
the basement along with the other 'offices' and normally
faced the front area. But in at least one of the larger
Grosvenor Street houses (on the site of the present Nos.
71–72), it had already been relegated from the start to
a position 'away from the house', (ref. 15) and a similar arrangement, found at No. 16 Grosvenor Street in about 1763,
was probably also original. (ref. 16) Such a long separation of
kitchen and dining-room was inconvenient to gentry
as well as to servants, who must have had to cross some
of the important public spaces with hot dishes and dirty
plates. But it seems not to have troubled the Georgian
builders, or the inhabitants of their houses, still content
to live at close quarters and without complete privacy.
The houses were certainly very fully occupied at
certain seasons. In 1763 Lady Molesworth's reputedly
'small' house at No. 49 Upper Brook Street burnt down
one night (a peril to which early Georgian town houses,
with their stud partition walls, their wooden stairs, and
their stretches of panelling, were prone). Horace Walpole
says that seven inhabitants perished, another account
claims ten, but certainly several escaped. This means that
there were probably some fifteen people in the main
house, though admittedly at a time when there were
visitors, since Lady Molesworth 'to make room had taken
her eldest daughter, of 17, to lie with her' in the front room
on the second floor (a casual, crowded arrangement which
would have been avoided at a later period). (ref. 17) Again,
when in 1726 Sir Thomas Hanmer moved into his new
house at No. 52 Grosvenor Street, one of the district's
largest, it appears that he had at least fourteen servants
(mostly male) in and around the house, besides his wife
and family. But if these houses were intensively used,
that was not the case all the year round. Hanmer's accounts
show him, with fair regularity, living in Grosvenor Street
between November and May and moving to the countryside for the rest of the year. (ref. 18) From the architectural point
of view this seasonal migration meant that for some five
months of the year the houses were merely looked after
by servants, and therefore there was ample time and scope
for the decorative improvements that were so frequently
demanded, right from the early days of the estate's history.
There must always have been a wide variety in the
degree and elaboration of internal finishing in these early
houses. One useful hint for interpreting their original
quality is the mix of panelling and plaster. The basic
material was of course panelling, and on moving into her
new house in Grosvenor Street (on the site of Nos. 71–72)
in the early 1720's Lady Hertford was pleased to report
'that (except the garrets) there is not a corner unwainscotted'. (ref. 15) But though panelled interiors were practical,
they were not in any way special. Many quite modest
houses, for instance Nos. 7 and 8 Upper Brook Street or
Nos. 70 and 74 Park Street, retain much panelling, while
some of the more luxuriously appointed ones such as
Nos. 71, 73 and 74 South Audley Street have, and
probably always had, little (Plate 10a): prosaically
enough, an early inventory of No. 45 Grosvenor Square
records in the garden a wainscotted 'Boghouse'. (ref. 19) In tact
deal panelling without any mouldings ('square work')
could be cheaply run up and was regularly used in attics and
up to dado level in basements. It could be framed directly
on to internal brickwork, or be attached to studs to make
thin partition walls not bearing any load. On the main floors,
it would be more or less elaborated, with at the simplest a
'quarter-round' or 'ovolo' moulding (often carved with egg
and dart) framing the panels, which were set back from the
stiles and characteristically rose high in proportion to their
breadth. One better than this was the raised and fielded
panelling that formed the wainscotting of the parlours in
the best houses. These were the two basic types of good
panelling, which though subject to variation are nevertheless distinguishable from later imitations. The cornices in
panelled rooms of high quality would include a run of egg
and dart or of modillions; on bedroom floors, wooden box
cornices seem to have been the norm.
However this wainscotting was originally treated, it is
clear that at least in the best houses it was primarily
regarded as a background to other things. Most of it was
made from imported deal, which was very nearly always
painted, and sometimes grained to look like oak. The
tone of the painting remains a difficulty but light colours
seem to have been the commoner. Ware must have been
thinking of white or cream when he spoke in 1756 of
panelling 'painted in the usual way' as lighter than
stucco, (ref. 20) and in 1769 the building agreement for Lord
Bateman's house in Park Lane (later Somerset House)
specified that the main rooms should be left a dead white
but the bedroom floor and attics a stone colour, presumably as a basis before the upholsterer moved in. (ref. 21)
Later in the century, shades of green were popular for
panelling and by 1800 stronger tones were frequent. But
whatever its tone, the panelling served chiefly as a background for broad, brightly coloured areas of fabric, with
mirrors ('pier glasses') frequently interspersed in between.
Thus Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough, in 1732 tells her
grand-daughter, then about to move into No. 51 Grosvenor
Street: 'Though several people have larger rooms, what
you have is as much as is of any real use to anybody, and
the white painting with so much red damask looks mighty
handsome. All the hangings are up in the four rooms above
stairs except some pieces that are to be where the glass
don't cover all the wainscott, and I think that will look
very well.' (ref. 22) Thus too in an inventory of 1767 for No. 18
Grosvenor Square the bedrooms, which were probably
panelled from head to foot, were called after their hangings and soft furnishings in general: 'green silk damask
bedchamber', 'printed cotton bedchamber', 'green harrateen bedchamber' and 'blue mohair bedchamber'. (ref. 23) Such
names reveal the crucial, sometimes tyrannical, part
played by the upholsterer in finishing these houses. Little
is known of the men who originally furnished the great
Grosvenor estate houses, but of their successors there
will be much to say.
Panelling apart, the joiner was of course responsible
tor doors, which on the main floors might have pediments
and friezes, and occasionally for chimney pieces. But
fireplaces were basically part of the mason's job, a point
on which the early inventories are surprisingly unanimous. The good houses usually had marble fireplaces,
often of no great pretension, right through to bedroom
level, with Portland stone equivalents in the basement
and the 'garrets'; the lesser houses were content with
ordinary stone chimneypieces throughout. Perhaps because of their simplicity, few of these remain in either
marble or stone; later accounts for Grosvenor Square
mention the replacement of fireplaces with particular frequency. The characteristic early Georgian high chimneypieces have also rarely survived in their entirety, though
there are wooden examples at No. 71 South Audley Street
(Plate 10a) and a more elaborate one of marble below and
plaster above on the first floor at No. 66 Brook Street
(Frontispiece). This type of fireplace must have meant
calling in a skilled carver or statuary specially for this
task; thus Hanmer employed Rysbrack for a lost fireplace at No. 52 Grosvenor Street. (ref. 18)
Some elaborate survivals suggest that the plasterers
were particularly active on the Grosvenor estate. To a
degree their trade overlapped with that of the carpenters,
since cornices could be of wood and walls could be panelled
but either feature could be plastered instead. They may
even in places have encroached upon the traditional
spheres of other tradesmen. Because the houses were
built by a mutual system of sharing jobs and bartering in
labour, there had to be co-operation between the trades,
but the actual lessee presumably had the final say as to
the permanent finishings of his house and would naturally
bias them in favour of his own craft. Certainly stucco was
already gaining ground on the fronts of houses, especially
where plasterers like Edward Shepherd were involved.
For his group of houses at Nos. 18–20 Grosvenor Square
(Plate 5), Shepherd agreed in 1728 to execute all the
'Plaistering worke of the front ... (Vizt) The Intableture
Rustick Story Cellar Story and ornaments to Windows', (ref. 24)
and though exterior stuccowork remained unreliable in
quality for fifty years and more after this, it is likely that
several other houses on the estate took advantage of the
material. Similarly, quite a few surviving interiors of
quality can with fair certainty be ascribed to Shepherd,
one of the most prolific and individual of the original
developers, or to craftsmen close to him. These are Nos.
66 Brook Street, 72 Brook Street (for a time Shepherd's
own house), 12 North Audley Street, and 71, 73 and
74 South Audley Street, all in a block taken by Shepherd
and let to him and his associates. On the other side of
South Audley Street five further houses, Nos. 9, 10, 12,
13 and 14, retain interesting ornamental plasterwork; here
the plasterer William Singleton, of whom little is known,
was one of the lessees.
What all these houses have in common is a series of
entertaining decorative ceilings (fig. 5). More unusually, many of them also have interesting plasterwork to the
walls as well. Nos. 12, 71 and 73 South Audley Street
share in many of the principal rooms the characteristic
of eccentric sunk plaster wall panels with shouldered
heads (Plate 10a). These, clearly the plasterer's equivalent
to wainscotting, were meant to receive pictures and hangings. Sunk plaster panels occur again at No. 66 Brook
Street on the walls and ceilings of the ground-floor front
room, as part of a more elaborate composition including
pilasters, flowerpieces, and ornamental cartouches
destined for 'pier glasses'. This house undoubtedly contains the finest of all Shepherd's surviving interiors on
the estate, for besides this room there is a plaster-vaulted
staircase (Plate 9a) leading on the first floor to a splendid
and festive apartment, long recognized as one of the best
Baroque interiors in London. It boasts elaborate doorcases, engaged Corinthian columns on all sides and, as
a climax, an exuberant double-storey chimneypiece,
marble below and plaster above, with a standing putto set
in relief in the upper part (Frontispiece).

Figure 5:
EARLY-GEORGIAN PLASTER CEILINGS
a. No. 12 South Audley Street, ground-floor front room.
Lessee, William Singleton (plasterer), 1737.
b. No. 73 South Audley Street, ground-floor back room.
Lessee, John Shepherd (plasterer), 1736.
c. No. 74 South Audley Street, ground floor, main back room.
Lessee, Edward Shepherd (esquire, formerly plasterer), 1736.
d. No. 34 Grosvenor Street, over main staircase. Lessee, Richard Lissiman
(mason), 1725
The surviving ceilings and staircase decorations of
Shepherd and his circle show that, left to their own
devices, they expressed themselves with an almost rustic
floridity. This was not uncommon at the time, even with
quite Palladian houses. William Kent was a fertile and
frequently unclassical designer of ornament, and even
true Italian stuccadori like Bagutti (who is known to have
worked on the lost staircase at No. 52 Grosvenor Street (ref. 18) )
could produce ceilings bordering on the quaint. This
rampant style of plasterwork is well shown in four fine
surviving ceilings at No. 73 South Audley Street, where
Shepherd's brother John, also a plasterer, was the lessee
(fig. 5b). They are highly compartmentalized compositions, relatively flat in relief; but within its borders
each compartment breaks out into a rash of arabesques
and strapwork patterns, with the occasional naturalistic
flowerpiece or portrait medallion reserved for the sides
or corners. The manner is too stiff to be connected with
the real Rococo that was shortly afterwards to triumph
in the great London palazzi of Chesterfield House or
Norfolk House, and it may in part reflect surviving
plasterers' traditions from an earlier period. This is not
to say that Edward Shepherd could not turn out disciplined, dignified plasterwork when required to. The
vaulting over the stairs at No. 66 Brook Street (Plate 9a),
perhaps done specially for Sir Nathaniel Curzon, and
the ceilings at No. 74 South Audley Street, originally the
Portuguese ambassador's house (fig. 5c), are at once
deeper in relief, severer in conception, and more gracious
than his average production. Still more 'correct' is the
plasterwork in the long gallery at No. 12 North Audley
Street, the house that Shepherd probably built for Lord
Ligonier and one of the outstanding survivals on the
estate (Plate 11). Here Ligonier had a tripartite singlestorey gallery built for himself at the back, very possibly
designed by the Irish architect Edward Pearce; but
though its proportions, plaster vaulting and engaged
columns show a restraining hand at work, there are still
traces of Shepherd's florid manner. At No. 72 Brook
Street, his own house, some hint of his idiosyncrasies also
survives, despite much alteration. It should be added that
Shepherd can have had no monopoly of high-class plasterwork. The two houses leased to William Singleton at
Nos. 12 and 13 South Audley Street included accomplished plaster decorations (Plate 9c; fig. 5a), while much
elaborate work of which we now know nothing must
originally have been executed for houses in Grosvenor
Square.
The last feature of these early Mayfair interiors that
remains to be singled out is the treatment of the 'great
stair'. As the most formal part of the house, the staircase
had to be handled with fitting pomp. Up to this time,
main staircases in enclosed town houses had usually been
of wood, but the Grosvenor estate shows the joiner
beginning to give ground to the mason and the smith.
Here they were often built of stone, the steps cantilevered
out from the wall and cut away on their undersides, with
hand-wrought iron balustrades in simple, attractive
patterns (fig. 6). There are good surviving examples in
each of the three traditional staircase positions at Nos. 33
and 34 Grosvenor Street (Plate 9b; fig. 6c, f) and No. 16
Upper Grosvenor Street (fig. 6d). With a front compartment staircase, this might make part of a considerable
architectural composition. Over the stairs would come
an ornamental plaster ceiling (Nos. 14 and 74 South
Audley Street, 34 and 59 Grosvenor Street, 20 Upper
Brook Street), or even a plaster vault (No. 66 Brook
Street). Sometimes this plasterwork was extended to the
walls, as at No. 13 South Audley Street, where the decoration has been comparatively recently destroyed (Plate 9c).
An inventory records similar treatment at No. 6 Grosvenor
Square, and at No. 34 Grosvenor Street the lessee Richard
Lissiman agreed in 1728 with Sir Paul Methuen, the
intending occupant, 'to wainscoat the Staircase with Oak,
in the same manner as the Staircase is wainscoated, in the
house where Sir Thomas Hanmer now lives [No. 52
Grosvenor Street]. And ... to cover all that part of the
Staircase and Sealing above it, that is plaisterd, with
Ornaments of Stucco, to the Satisfaction of Sir Paul.' (ref. 25)
However this was evidently not done in exact accord with
the agreement, for the surviving staircase at No. 34
Grosvenor Street, a fine and authentic example, is wainscotted from head to toe in elegantly elongated panels, with
the plasterwork confined to the ceiling (fig. 5d).
Another and more dramatic alternative was to fresco
the stairs. How common this was we do not know, but it
was probably fairly regular in the 1720's and 1730's,
having been done often enough in country houses since
1660, and having acquired a new impetus in London after
William Kent painted the great stair at Kensington
Palace. It certainly required craftsmen of ability, but
they are usually anonymous. Israel Russell, a 'painterstainer' who was one of the original lessees of some of the
houses, may have specialized in this direction; another
possibility is Mark Antony Hauduroy, who had worked
with Shepherd at Chandos House and lived in one of his
houses at No. 11 North Audley Street. A charming
figurative staircase mural, found at No. 44 Grosvenor
Square, was removed to the Victoria and Albert Museum
before the destruction of that house. An attribution of
this fresco has been made to John Laguerre, son of Louis
Laguerre, and seems the more convincing in so far as an
inventory of 1750 for No. 48 Grosvenor Street informs
us that the 'Great Stair Case' was 'Wainscotted Rail'd
high with Oak and the rest painted in a Composed Order
with figures and Trophies done by John Legare'. Several
of the other houses, especially in the square, must have
had painted staircases, though none survives; besides
those mentioned, inventories allude to long-lost examples
at Nos. 45 Grosvenor Square and 29 Grosvenor Square,
the latter 'painted in Architecture and History'. (ref. 26)

Figure 6:
WROUGHT-IRON BALUSTRADES FROM EARLY-GEORGIAN STAIRCASES
a. No. 9 South Audley Street
b. No. 10 South Audley Street
c. No. 33 Grosvenor Street
d. No. 16 Upper Grosvenor Street
e. Dudley House, Park Lane (basement stairs, from older house)
f. No. 34 Grosvenor Street.
To round off this discussion of the interiors of the great
Grosvenor estate houses, the reader is referred to
Appendix II, where he will find the full text of one of the
several inventories mentioned above, that of 1733 for
No. 45 Grosvenor Square. This will provide some idea
of the typical positions, names and uses of the smaller
rooms, as well as of the basic fixtures and fittings of such
a house.
A few general comments can be added about the gardens
of these large houses. Sutton Nicholls's engraving of
Grosvenor Square (Plate 5a) gives an idealized representation, showing in each back garden numerous straight
gravel walks enclosing small grass plots or flower beds,
with espaliered fruit trees against the walls, a few minor
shrubs here and there, and the occasional architectural
feature at the back to disguise a stable block. Though this
picture of seventeenth-century formality may be misleading in many respects, it demonstrates that these townhouse gardens were no mere plain and functional
backyards. Even where a basement extended behind the
main house, a proper garden could from early on be had,
as an inventory of 1799 for No. 16 Grosvenor Street
shows; here the yard is described as 'covered with Lead
Clayed and Gravelled for Garden'. (ref. 27) Yet another inventory, this time of 1742 for a house on the south side of
Grosvenor Street, shows that the 'features' too were no
mere figment of the imagination, for here there could
be found 'an Alcove at the end of Garden after the dorick
order covered with lead, the alcove back and sides
wainscotted quarter round and raised pannells with
a seat, Portland pavement before ditto'. (ref. 28)
Flowers in abundance were certainly common and,
as time went on, so were fair-sized trees. Sir Thomas
Hanmer's accounts of 1726–9 for No. 52 Grosvenor Street
itemize several payments for tending flowers to gardeners
(one of whom was French), and include a note to pay one
man more 'when the flowers appear to he right in number
and kinds'. (ref. 18) So too in 1734 Mrs. Delany, keeping her
provincial sister up to date with details about her modest
(hut surviving) house at No. 48 Upper Brook Street,
could write: 'You think, madam, that I have no garden,
perhaps? but that's a mistake; I hare one as big as your
parlour in Gloucester, and in it groweth damask-roses,
stocks variegated and plain, some purple, some red, pinks,
Philaria, some dead some alive; and honeysuckles that
never blow'. (ref. 29) And in 1748 Fanny Boscawen of No. 14
South Audley Street was boasting that 'my garden is in
the best order imaginable, and planted with 100 shrubs
and flowers'. Half a century later, still living in the same
house, Mrs. Boscawen could in the more picturesque
spirit of the age go further: "tis well I have some trees,
whose leaves wave close by me, and that about me I behold
purple lilacs, white lilacs, and yellow laburnums in my
own or my neighbours' gardens, and no bricks or tiles'. (ref. 30)
How mature Mrs. Boscawen's trees were is hard to say,
but they were probably bigger than the trees which in
1763 William Chambers was advising his client at No. 25
Grosvenor Square to trim and nail up against the wind,
in a garden which contained wooden 'lattice work', that
is presumably trellises for espaliers against the walls. (ref. 31) So
from quite early days, there was a fair amount of variety,
colour and greenery in all these gardens and by the end
of the eighteenth century precious little austerity, if the
Boscawen case is at all typical.
Finally, something must be said of the few larger
buildings that interrupted the estate's original pattern of
regular terrace housing. Here and there, especially west
of Grosvenor Square, a few individual houses of size did
spring up. Among these, pride of place must go to the
freestanding house built in about 1730 for Lord Chetwynd in Upper Grosvenor Street near its west end.
Though it was to become the future Grosvenor House
little is known of its original appearance, except that
Porden characterized the interiors as being in 'a heavy,
antiquated, but respectable stile'. (ref. 32) This was written in
1805, just before the Grosvenors began their transformation of the house; at that time it was a sizeable, symmetrical villa in plan, set back some ninety feet from the
south side of the street at the rear of a court with a narrow
street entrance. In this respect it was like some of the
large noblemen's houses that still in part survive on the
north side of Piccadilly, but instead of having office wings
flanking the court, the side plots were let oft", so that
the house must have been inconspicuous from the street.
In the later eighteenth century other big houses were to
be built close to the park in this western sector, but for
nearly thirty years Lord Chetwynd's house stood alone.
For the largest surviving individual house of early date
on the estate one must look further north, to No. 61 Green
Street, later known as Hampden House. This was the
home of the Palladian architect Roger Morris. Of the
Palladians who were involved in the estate development,
Colen Campbell has already been discussed; Thomas
Ripley built a very large house that survives in altered
form at No. 16 Grosvenor Street but does not seem to have
varied greatly in elevation from the estate norm; and
William Benson may have been responsible for two small
lost houses in Grosvenor Street of which, however, little
is known. But Morris was evidently more ambitious on his
own behalf. The result was the big brick house and
spacious garden, dating from 1730, that survive at the
east end of Green Street. This was then a relatively open
position, with a few sizeable houses nearby in North
Audley Street, some smaller but seemingly detached
houses mainly belonging to other builders on either side
of Morris's plot, and empty land close by on the north
and west. It is now a gaunt and much altered building on
both elevation and plan, but the slightly recessed wings
and high central rooms of this seven-bay house still bear
witness to Morris's ambition and wealth. By contrast, at
the south end of Davies Street stands a much quainter
survival, Bourdon House (Plate 12a). Built in about
1721–3 and therefore one of the earliest of houses on the
estate, it still despite alterations and an added top storey
keeps its modest brick character, with a south-facing
pediment looking down on what must once have been the
main approach, through a rather deeper front garden than
now exists. Within, the interior has retained an early
Georgian flavour almost better than any other house on
the estate, and there is some excellent original woodwork
in the 'ante-dining room' (Plate 10b).
These are the main early houses independent of any
terrace arrangement of which something is known. There
is little to add about the estate's few public buildings.
Since there was originally no market, these really comprise only two, the parish workhouse that stood until
1886 on the south side of Mount Street, and the Grosvenor
Chapel in South Audley Street. The workhouse, erected
by Benjamin Timbrell and Thomas Phillips in 1725–6,
was a functional and capacious building which could
accommodate 160 persons and ran to no elaboration
except a central cupola. The chapel (Plate 12b; fig. 7),
erected in 1730–1, also involved Timbrell (with Robert
Scott as fellow carpenter and William Barlow senior as
bricklayer), and this is the more interesting since it bears
distinct resemblances to James Gibbs's Oxford Chapel
(St. Peter's, Vere Street) on which Timbrell had worked
a few years before. Both arc simple auditoria of similar
length having galleries on three sides, with groined plaster
vaults over the aisles and a curved ceiling to the nave, and
on the outside two tiers of windows along the sides, and
pedimented and turretted western features. A comparison
is instructive, as it shows the difference in fluency
between the work of the specialist architect and that of
the master builder; but though the Grosvenor Chapel
is second best in most respects and has been more altered
than St. Peter's, its quaint steeple at the termination of
Aldford Street provides one of the few minor features
of town planning in the estate layout. Of original interior
fittings it still retains its old stairs to the gallery, some
pleasant panelling and plasterwork, an organ and a pulpit,
but much else has been changed in subsequent restorations.

Figure 7:
Grosvenor Chapel, west front as originally built in 1730–1