CHAPTER XVI.
THE NEIGHBOURHOOD OF ST. JAMES'S SQUARE.
"John his dull invention racks,
To rival Boodle's dinners, or Almack's."
Heroic Epistle to Sir W. Chambers.
King Street—Nerot's Hotel—St. James's Theatre—Début of John Braham—An Amusing Story of him—Mr. Hooper opens the St. James's
Theatre—Mr. Bunn and German Opera—The Name of the Theatre Changed to "The Prince's"—The Theatre opened with English Opera—Willis's Rooms—"Almack's"—The Dilettanti Society and their Portraits—Curious Comments on Quadrilles—A Ball in Honour of the Coronation of George IV.—Christie and Manson's Sale-rooms—Famous Residents in King Street—Louis Napoleon—Crockford's Bazaar—Duke
Street and Bury Street—A Famous Lawyer and his Will—Steele—Swift and Crabbe—Yarrell, the Naturalist—York Street and its Foot
Pavement—Charity Commission Offices—Jermyn Street—A Strange Story of a Truant Husband—The Brunswick Hotel—The Museum of
Practical Geology—The Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals—The Turkish Bath—An Artists' Quarter—"Harlequin's" Account
of the Neighbourhood.
Extending from the west side of the square to St.
James's Street, parallel with Pall Mall and Jermyn
Street, runs a thoroughfare to which the loyalty of
the Stuart times gave the name of King Street. On
the south side of this street, on the site now occupied
by the St. James's Theatre, formerly stood a large
building, long known as Nerot's Hotel. The premises were old, probably dating from the time of
Charles II.; it had a large heavy staircase, carved
after the fashion of the time, its panels being adorned
with a series of mythical pictures of Apollo and
Daphne and other heathen deities. The front of
the house was pierced with no less than twentyfour windows.
The St. James's Theatre, like the New Royalty,
owes its existence to one of those unaccountable
infatuations which stake the earnings of a lifetime
upon a hazardous speculation. It was built in
1835, from a design by Mr. Beazley, and at a cost
of £26,000, by the celebrated John Braham, then
sixty years of age. The great tenor, who was of
Jewish origin, having from childhood developed
remarkable vocal powers, made his début at the
old Royalty Theatre in 1787, at the age of thirteen,
as a pupil of Leoni; in the bills he is called
"Master Abrahams." Here he is said to have
attracted the notice of the wealthy Abraham Goldschmidt, who placed him under the tuition of
Rauzzini, the director of the Bath concerts, in
which city Braham first established his reputation
as a vocalist. He returned to London in 1796,
and made his appearance in Storace's opera of
Mahmoud. Subsequently he proceeded to Italy,
where he completed his musical studies, and returned to England in 1801, from which time he
pursued his professional career with uninterrupted
success. His delivery of the recitative "Deeper
and deeper still," from Handel's Fephthah, is
said to have been one of the finest specimens
of tragic vocalisation ever heard. Charles Lamb
says of him:—"There is a fine scorn in Braham's
face. . . . . . The Hebrew spirit is strong
in him, in spite of his proselytism. He cannot
conquer the shibboleth: how it breaks out when
he sings 'The children of Israel passed through the
Red Sea!' The auditors for the moment are as
Egyptians to him, and he rides over our necks in
triumph. The foundation of his vocal excellence
is sense." Henry Russell relates the following
amusing story of him:—"His father's name was
Abraham, and as he was short and stout, his
neighbours nicknamed him 'Aby Punch.' Braham
on one occasion was performing in an absurd
pasticcio with Mrs. Crouch, Mrs. Bland, Kelly, and
Jack Bannister. The scene represented the interior of an old country inn. [Enter Braham with a
bundle slung to a stick on his shoulder.] 'I have
been traversing this desolate country for days with
no friend to cheer me. [Sits.] I am weary—yet
no rest, no food, scarcely life. O Heaven, pity
me! Shall I ever realise my hopes? [Knocks on
the table.] What ho there, house! [Knecks again.]
Will no one come!' [Enter Landlord.] 'I beg
pardon, sir, but—[starts]. I know that face [aside].
What can I do for you, sir?' Braham: 'Gracious
Heaven! 'tis he—the voice, the look—the —[with calmness]—Yes; I want food.' Landlord:
'Tell me, what brings one so young as thou appearest to be through this dangerous forest?'
Braham: 'I will. For days, for months, oh! for
years, I have been in search of my father.' Landlord: 'Your father!' Braham: 'Yes; my father.
'Tis strange—but that voice—that look—that figure—tell me that you are my father.' Landlord: 'No,
I tell thee, no; I am not thy father.' Braham:
'Heaven protect me! Who, tell me, WHO IS MY
FATHER?' Scarcely had Braham put this question
when a little Jew stood up in an excited manner
in the midst of a densely-crowded pit, and exclaimed, 'I knowed yer father well. His name was
Abey Punch!' The performance was suspended
for some minutes by the roars of laughter which
followed this revelation."
ST. JAMES'S THEATRE.
Braham's theatre opened under the most favourable auspices on the 14th of December, 1835, with
an original operatic burletta by Gilbert A'Beckett,
entitled Agnes Sord, in which the principal parts
were sustained by Messrs. Braham and Morris
Barnett, and the Misses Glossop and P. Horton.
An original interlude, A Clear Case, followed the
opera, and an original farce, A French Company, concluded the performances. Braham appears to have
been a liberal patron of dramatic writers, as we find
an unusual number of "new and original" pieces
produced at this theatre during his too brief reign,
although far more numerous audiences assembled
on the nights when he performed in his famous
parts of "Fra Diavolo" and "Tom Tug," in The
Waterman. Mrs. Honey and Love, the polyphonist, were engaged at the St. James's Theatre during
Lent, 1836, Mrs. Honey appearing in the parts of
"Captain Macheath," in the Beggar's Opera, and
"Kate O'Brien," in Perfection. It seems rather
ominous of the future that the first season of the
new theatre lasted little more than three months,
when Braham was glad to let it to Madame Jenny
Vertpré for French plays, which commenced April
8th, 1836, and in which Mdlle. Plessis appeared.
Braham re-opened his theatre on September 29th,
1836, with the somewhat pompous announcement
that "The theatre having been, during the recess,
perfected in all parts, was now admitted to be the
most splendid in Europe!" The performances
commenced on this occasion with The Strange
Gentleman, by "Boz," followed by The Sham
Prince, by John Barnett, concluding with The
Tradesmen's Ball, all three being burlettas, and
all "new and original." Dr. Arne's operetta of
Artaxerxes was produced the following month,
with Miss Rainforth as "Mandane," and Braham as
"Artabanes." "Boz" again appears in December,
1836, as the author of the libretto of The Village
Coquettes, the music being by John Hullah, in which
the chief performers were Miss Rainforth and
Messrs. Braham, Morris Barnett, Harley, and John
Parry—a strong caste, indeed, and one which might
have been supposed to ensure the success of any
piece of average merit. The Village Coquettes
seem, however, to have met with less favour than
The Strange Gentleman, the latter having had a
run of more than fifty nights, while the former disappeared from the bills after fifteen representations.
By this time Wright and Mrs. Stirling had joined
the already powerful company; yet, in spite of the
combination of talent which he had assembled in
his elegant little theatre, the unfortunate proprietor
found himself at the close of the season of 1838 a
ruined man, forced, at the age of sixty-four, to seek
a maintenance in America by the exercise of his
profession. Here he achieved as great a popularity
as he had enjoyed in England, and on his subsequent return a few years later to his native land,
his old age was made happy by the dutiful affection
of his daughter, the Countess Waldegrave. He
died in 1856, in his eighty-third year, leaving a
name which will always be remembered as one of
the greatest of English singers. His fame did not
rest solely upon his remarkable skill as a scientific
vocalist in operas and oratorios, but upon his
exquisite and most pathetic rendering of the homely
ballads and patriotic songs so dear to the heart of
the people of every country, and to an especial
degree of the people of England.
WILLIS'S ROOMS.
But to return to the history of the St. James's
Theatre, which was opened by Mr. Hooper in
1839, with a company comprising Messrs. Dowton,
Wrench, Alfred Wigan, Mdmes. Glover, Honey,
Nisbett, and several other excellent performers
from the Haymarket Theatre. As he was a sufficiently wise man in his generation to profit by the
unfortunate experience of his predecessor, Hooper
resolved not to depend upon talent alone for success.
Van Amburgh, the lion-tamer, with his formidable
troupe of wild beasts, had at this time gained such
a triumph over Macready and the legitimate drama
at Drury Lane, that, as Mr. Bunn, the lessee, tells
us, whereas the latter had been playing (at £16
a night) to comparatively empty benches, the former
now nightly exhibited his intrepidity before crowded
audiences, including on several occasions the young
Queen, who highly eulogised this fascinating exhibition! Mr. Hooper therefore announced that the
St. James's Theatre would re-open on the 4th of
February, 1839, with three new pieces, and a dozen
lions and tigers of extraordinary size. The three
new pieces consisted of a burletta, Friends and
Neighbours, by Haynes Bayley; The Young Sculptor,
by Henry Mayhew; and The Troublesome Lodger,
by Bayley and Mayhew. Dowton, although at
that time the oldest actor on the stage, having
passed his seventieth year, was a universal favourite,
as also were both Wrench and Mrs. Glover; but
the manager soon found that the taste of the day
gave four-legged performers so decided a preference
over bipeds, that he started off to Paris and obtained the services of a troupe of highly-trained
monkeys, dogs, and goats. The event proved his
sagacity; the attraction was irresistible, and all
the rank and fashion of the metropolis crowded
to witness the antics of "Madame Pompadour,
Mademoiselle Batavia, Lord Gogo, and his valet
Jacob!" So, at least, says Theodore Hook, in an
essay written during this year upon "The Decline
of the Drama:"—
"Perhaps as great an alteration as any which has
occurred during the present generation is to be
found in the theatrical taste of the people—not to
go back to the theatrical reign of Garrick, which
terminated in 1811, during which the acceptance
or rejection of a comedy formed the subject of
general conversation. Then there were but two
theatres, the seasons of which were limited from
the 15th of September to the 15th of May. Then
each theatre had its destined company of actors, a
change in which, even in an individual instance,
created a sensation in society. Theatrical representations had a strong hold upon the public, up
to a much later period—in fact, until that which
modern liberality denounced as a gross monopoly
was abolished, and theatres sprung up in almost
every street of the metropolis. The argument in
favour of this extension was that the population of
London and the suburbs had so much increased,
that the demand for playhouses was greater than
the supply, and that 'more theatres' were wanted.
We have the theatres, but where are the authors
and the actors to make them attractive? Monkeys,
dogs, goats, horses, giants, lions, tigers, and gentlemen who walk upon the ceiling with their heads
downwards, are all very attractive in their way,
and they will sometimes, not always, fill the playhouses. But as to the genuine drama, the public
taste has been weaned from it, first by the multitude of trashy diversions scattered all over the
town, and, secondly, by the consequent scattering
of the theatrical talent which really does exist. At
each of these minor theatres you find some three
or four excellent actors, worked off their legs, night
after night, who if collected into two good companies, as of old, would give us the legitimate
drama well and satisfactorily."
On the marriage of Her Majesty with Prince
Albert, in February, 1840, a scheme was set on
foot for the establishment of a German opera in
London. An arrangement was effected with Herr
Schuman, director of the opera at Mayence, and
the St. James's Theatre, of which Mr. Bunn had
become the lessee, was selected as a suitable locale
for the purpose, and its name changed to "The
Prince's Theatre," in honour of the illustrious bridegroom. Public expectation was wrought up to the
highest pitch: a new entrance was made for Her
Majesty and the Queen Dowager through Mr.
Braham's private house; the Duke of Brunswick
engaged the box next to that of the Queen for the
season, and long before the opening night every
box and stall had been disposed of. The German
company, headed by their director, Herr Schuman,
duly arrived in London, and the procession of
carriages and baggage wagons, containing the stage
wardrobes, decorations, and other articles, resembled, said the Era, "a troop of soldiers rather
than a troupe of actors; it was, indeed, more like
a military than a Thespian corps."
With all this flourish of trumpets, and under this
distinguished patronage, "The Prince's" opened on
the 27th of April, 1840. "Never was it our lot,"
says one of the weekly papers of that date, "to
witness such a fashionable and crowded audience
in the walls of any theatre. Many families of the
highest rank were obliged to be contented with
seats in the public and upper boxes, while the
private ones were filled by their noble subscribers,
including the Cambridge family, and a portion of
that of the Queen Dowager. The two queens
were prevented from attending by the death of
the Countess of Burlington."The well-known
and ever-popular Der Freischiits, by Weber, was
judiciously chosen for the opening performance.
Among the operas subsequently produced at this
theatre were Spohr's Jessonda; his Faust, of which
it was remarked that "the opera of Faust might
be set to the text of the oratorio of The Day of
Judgment, and would be as much in character
with the one as with the other;" Weber's Euryanthe, said, on account of its dulness, to have
been nicknamed in Germany Ennuianthe; Glück's
Iphigenia in Tauris; and Beethoven's Fidelio.
The German singers were not generally admired.
The Era remarks, apropos of the performance of
Weber's Euryanthe: "Herr Poeck sang with great
spirit and power, Schmerzer was good in some
parts of the opera; but the ladies, whom out of
gallantry we ought to praise, can only claim it on
that head. If they had but moderate execution,
and could but sing tolerably in tune, we would
willingly excuse their badness of school, for we
should at least hear the composer without being
offended; but really (and the ladies must pardon
us for saying so) such singers as Madame Fischer
Schwartzböck and Madame Michalesi are sufficient
to destroy the effect of any opera, however fine it
may be." In spite of these trifling drawbacks, the
Prince's Theatre continued to be both fashionably
and fully attended up to the close of the season,
and Herr Schuman, previous to his departure,
is said to have expressed himself "confident that he
had laid the foundation of a permanent German
opera in England, and that he should return the
following year, this, his experimental season, having
proved that it would be worth his while to bring
over the élite of the German singers."
These "great expectations" were never destined
to be fulfilled. The late German opera-house reopened in November, 1840, under the management
of Mr. Morris Barnett, with Fridolin, a new opera
by Frank Romer, which, not proving a success,
terminated the winter season before Christmas, and
with it ended the career of this theatre as "The
Prince's." In 1841 we find it was taken by Mr.
Mitchell, and opened for French plays, in its old
name of the St. James's, which it has ever since
retained. Under the lesseeship of Mr. Mitchell,
which lasted twelve years, the English public had
an opportunity of witnessing the best works of the
French dramatists, represented by the best native
artists, such as the veteran Perlet, Achard, Ravel,
Levasseur, Lemaitre, Mdlle. Plessy, the famous
Dejazet, and the gifted Rachel, who, to use the
fashionable cant, "created" the parts of "Adrienne
Lecouvreur,' of Racine's Phédre, and of Corneille's
"Camille" in Les Horaces. At the close of each of
his last two seasons of French plays Mr. Mitchell
essayed the experiment of a brief series of German
dramas, but with no encouraging result. In 1855,
the St. James's Theatre, then under the management of Mrs. Seymour, produced the lyrical drama
of Alcestis, adapted from the Greek of Euripides,
set to music by Glück, the choruses, &c., being
under the direction of Sir Henry Bishop. This
scarcely classical entertainment was lightened by
two after-pieces, Abon Hassan, an extravaganza,
and The Miller and his Men. Alcestis was not
appreciated by the public, and was withdrawn after
a few nights.
In June, 1859, an English opera by Edward
Loder, entitled Raymond and Agnes, was brought
out at this theatre, under the management of
Augustus Braham, a son of the great tenor. The
principal parts were sustained by Hamilton Braham,
George Perren, Mdmes. Rudersdorf and Susan
Pyne. But the St. James's Theatre would seem to
have been the evil genius of the Braham family;
for, although the opera was highly commended
by musical authorities, and the caste unobjectionable, Raymond and Agnes proved an utter failure,
and after being performed five nights to nearly
empty benches disappeared on the sixth, to be
seen and heard no more. From 1859 to 1863
the St. James's was successively leased to Messrs.
F. B. Chatterton, Alfred Wigan, Frank Matthews,
and B. Webster, the short tenure of each lease
proving that the speculation was in no case satisfactory. The company during the greater part of the
time comprised the two clever couples, Mr. and Mrs.
Alfred Wigan and Mr. and Mrs. Frank Matthews,
Miss Rainforth, and Miss Herbert. The lastnamed lady became lessee of the theatre in 1864,
but, although an elegant and highly popular actress,
she, like her predecessors, failed to make a fortune
out of the proverbially unfortunate place. In 1868
the management was assumed by Mrs. John Wood,
a lively lady, whose piquant performance of "La
Belle Sauvage" was the great hit of the season of
1869. In 1874, the St. James's acquired an unenviable notoriety from the nature of the entertainment offered, which fell under the ban of the
Lord Chamberlain, and completed up to the present
time the list of the misfortunes of this persistently
unlucky little playhouse.
We learn casually from Forster's "Life of Charles
Dickens," that when in 1846 the idea of giving
readings from his published works first came into
his head, he at first proposed to take the St.
James's Theatre for that purpose.
Apropos of Mr. Braham's management of the
St. James's, a story is told, which may be worth
repeating here. Mr. Bunn was passing through
Jermyn Street late one evening, and seeing Kenney
at the corner of St. James's Church, swinging
about in a nervous sort of manner, he inquired the
cause of his being there at such an hour. He
replied, "I have been to the St. James's Theatre,
and, do you know, I really thought Braham was a
much prouder man than I find him to be." On
asking why, he answered, "I was in the greenroom, and hearing Braham say, as he entered, 'I
am really proud of my pit to-night,' I went and
counted it, and there were but seventeen people
in it!"
Close by the St. James's Theatre are "Willis's
Rooms," a noble suite of assembly-rooms, formerly
known as "Almack's." The building was erected
by Mylne, for one Almack, a tavern-keeper, and
was opened in 1765, with a ball, at which the
Duke of Cumberland, the hero of Culloden, was
present. Almack, who was a Scotchman by birth,
seems to have been a large adventurer in clubs,
for he at first "farmed" the club afterwards known
as "Brooks's." The large ball-room is about one
hundred feet in length by forty feet in width, and
is chastely decorated with columns and pilasters,
classic medallions, and mirrors. The rooms are
let for public meetings, dramatic readings, concerts,
balls, and occasionally for dinners. Right and
left, at the top of the grand staircase, and on
either side of the vestibule of the ball-room, are
two spacious apartments, used occasionally for
large suppers or dinners.
In these rooms are held the re-unions of the
Dilettanti Society. This society, as we have stated
in a previous chapter, was established in the year
1734, and originally met at the "Thatched House"
Tavern, St. James's Street, its object being "the
promotion of the fine arts, combined with friendly
and social intercourse." The members of this
association dine here every fortnight during the
"London season." The walls of the apartment
are still hung with the portraits of the members,
most of which were removed hither on the demolition of the old "Thatched House." Many of the
portraits are in the costume familiar to us through
Hogarth, others are in Turkish or Roman dresses,
and several of them are so represented as to show
the convivial nature of the gatherings for which
they were famous: for instance, Sir Francis Dashwood, afterwards Lord Le Despenser, who figures
as a monk at his devotions—the object on which
his gaze is intently fixed, however, is not a crucifix,
nor an image of "Our Lady;" Charles Sackville,
Duke of Dorset, appears as a Roman soldier.
The three principal pictures in the room are those
by Sir Joshua Reynolds, who was himself a member
of the Dilettanti Society: one of these represents
a group containing portraits of the Duke of Leeds,
Lord Dundas, Lord Mulgrave, Lord Seaforth, the
Hon. Charles Greville, Charles Crowle, Esq., and
Sir Joseph Banks; another is a group treated in the
same manner, containing portraits of Sir William
Hamilton, Sir Watkin W. Wynn, Mr. Richard
Thomson, Sir John Taylor, Mr. Payne Gallwey,
and Mr. Spencer Stanhope; the third is a portrait
of Sir Joshua himself, attired in a loose robe, and
without the addition of his customary wig. There
are also portraits of the late Lord Broughton (better
known as Sir John Cam Hobhouse), and Lord
Ligonier, and, in fact, nearly every man of note in
the early part of the present century. The latest
addition to the collection is the portrait of Sir
Edward Ryan, who died in August, 1875.
"Almack's" was already established as a place
of public amusement as far back as 1768, for in
the Advertiser of November 12th, in that year, we
find the following notice:—"Mr. Almack humbly
begs leave to acquaint the nobility and gentry,
subscribers to the Assembly in King Street, St.
James's, that the first meeting will be Thursday,
24th inst. N.B. Tickets are ready to be delivered
at the Assembly Room."
In a satire on the ladies of the age, published in
1773, we read—
"Now lolling at the Coterie and ' White's,'
We drink and game away our days and nights.
* * * * *
No censure reaches them at Almack's ball;
Virtue, religion—they're above them all."
The assembly which bore the title of "Almack's"
was in its palmy days under the regulation of six
lady patronesses, of the first distinction, whose fiat
was decisive as to admission or rejection of every
applicant for tickets, and became a most autocratic
institution—quite an imperium in imperio. In fact,
the entrée to "Almack's" was in itself a passport to
the highest society in London, being almost as
high a certificate as the fact of having been presented at Court.
Lady Clementina Davies writes in her "Recollections of Society:"—"At 'Almack's,' in 1814,
the rules were very strict. Scotch reels and country
dances were in fashion. The lady patronesses were
all powerful. No visitor was to be admitted after
twelve o'clock, and once, when the Duke of Wellington arrived a few minutes after that hour, he
was refused admission."
A writer in the New Monthly Magasine (1824)
observes: "The nights of meeting fall upon every
Wednesday during the season. This is selection
with a vengeance, the very quintessence of aristocracy. Three-fourths even of the nobility knock
in vain for admission. Into this sanctum sanctorum,
of course, the sons of commerce never think of intruding on the sacred Wednesday evenings; and
yet into this very 'blue chamber,' in the absence
of the six necromancers, have the votaries of trade
contrived to intrude themselves."
Mr. T. Raikes tells us in his "Journal" that
the celebrated diplomatiste, the Princess Lieven,
was the only foreign lady who was ever admitted
into the exclusive circle of the lady patronesses of
this select society, into the tracasseries of which
establishment she entered very cordially, though
her manner, tinctured at times with a certain degree
of hauteur, made her many enemies.
"At the present time," writes Captain Gronow,
in 1862, "one can hardly conceive the importance which was attached to getting admission to
'Almack's,' the seventh heaven of the fashionable
world. Of the three hundred officers of the Foot
Guards, not more than half a dozen were honoured
with vouchers of admission to this exclusive temple
of the beau monde, the gates of which were guarded
by lady patronesses, whose smiles or frowns consigned men and women to happiness or despair as
the case might be. These 'lady patronesses,' in
1813, were the Ladies Castlereagh, Jersey, Cowper,
and Sefton, Mrs. Drummond Burrell, afterwards
Lady Willoughby d'Eresby, the Princess Esterhazy,
and the Princess Lieven.
"The most popular amongst these grandes dames,"
he adds, "was unquestionably Lady Cowper, now
Lady Palmerston. Lady Jersey's bearing, on the
contrary, was that of a theatrical tragedy queen;
and whilst attempting the sublime, she frequently
made herself simply ridiculous, being inconceivably
rude, and in her manner often ill-bred. Lady Sefton
was kind and amiable, Madame de Lieven haughty
and exclusive, Princess Esterhazy was a bon enfant,
Lady Castlereagh and Mrs. Burrell de très grandes
dames.
"Many diplomatic arts, much finesse, and a host
of intrigues, were set in motion to get an invitation
to 'Almack's.' Very often persons whose rank and
fortunes entitled them to the entrée anywhere, were
excluded by the cliqueism of the lady patronesses;
for the female government of 'Almack's' was a pure
despotism, and subject to all the caprices of despotic rule: it is needless to add that, like every
other despotism, it was not innocent of abuses.
The fair ladies who ruled supreme over this little
dancing and gossiping world, issued a solemn proclamation that no gentleman should appear at the
assemblies without being dressed in knee-breeches,
white cravat, and chapeau bras. On one occasion,
the Duke of Wellington was about to ascend the
staircase of the ball-room, dressed in black trousers,
when the vigilant Mr. Willis, the guardian of the
establishment, stepped forward and said, 'Your
Grace cannot be admitted in trousers;' whereupon
the Duke, who had a great respect for orders and
regulations, quietly walked away.
"In 1814, the dances at 'Almack's' were Scotch
reels and the old English country dance; and the
orchestra, being from Edinburgh, was conducted
by the then celebrated Neil Gow. It was not
until 1815 that Lady Jersey introduced from Paris
the favourite quadrille, which has so long remained
popular. I recollect the persons who formed the
first quadrille that was ever danced at 'Almack's:'
they were Lady Jersey, Lady Harriet Butler, Lady
Susan Ryder, and Miss Montgomery; the men
being the Count St. Aldegonde, Mr. Montgomery,
Mr. Montague, and Charles Standish. The 'mazy
waltz' was also brought to us about this time;
but there were comparatively few who at first
ventured to whirl round the salons of 'Almack's;'
in course of time Lord Palmerston might, however,
have been seen describing an infinite number of
circles with Madame de Lieven. Baron de Neumann was frequently seen perpetually turning with
the Princess Esterhazy; and, in course of time, the
waltzing mania, having turned the heads of society
generally, descended to their feet, and the waltz
was practised in the morning in certain noble mansions in London with unparalleled assiduity."
Mr. T. Raikes thus commemorates the arrival of
the German waltz in England:—"No event ever
produced so great a sensation in English society
as the introduction of the German waltz in 1813.
Up to that time the English country dance, Scotch
steps, and an occasional Highland reel, formed
the school of the dancing-master, and the evening
recreation of the British youth, even in the first
circles. But peace was drawing near, foreigners
were arriving, and the taste for Continental customs
and manners became the order of the day. The
young Duke of Devonshire, as the 'magnus Apollo'
of the drawing-rooms in London, was at the head
of these innovations; and when the kitchen and
country dance became exploded at Devonshire
House, it could not long be expected to maintain
its footing even in the less celebrated assemblies.
In London, fashion is or was then everything.
Old and young returned to school, and the mornings which had been dedicated to lounging in the
Park, were now absorbed at home in practising the
figures of a French quadrille, or whirling a chair
round the room, to learn the step and measure of
the German waltz. Lame and impotent were the
first efforts, but the inspiring effect of the music,
and the not less inspiring airs of the foreigners,
soon rendered the English ladies enthusiastic performers. What scenes have we witnessed in those
days at 'Almack's,' &c.! What fear and trembling
in the débutantes at the commencement of a waltz,
what giddiness and confusion at the end!
THE FIRST QUADRILLE DANCED AT "ALMACK'S." (From Gronow's "Reminiscences.")
LORD WORCESTER.
LADY JERSEY.
CLANRONALD MACDONALD.
LADY WORCESTER.
"It was perhaps owing to this latter circumstance that so violent an opposition soon arose to
this new recreation on the score of morality.
"The anti-waltzing party took the alarm, cried it
down, mothers forbade it, and every ball-room became a scene of feud and contention; the waltzers
continued their operations, but their ranks were not
filled with so many recruits as they expected. The
foreigners, however, were not idle in forming their
élèves; Baron Tripp, Neumann, St. Aldegonde, &c.,
persevered in spite of all the prejudices which were
marshalled against them, every night the waltz was
called, and new votaries, though slowly, were added
to their train. Still the opposition party did not
relax in their efforts, sarcastic remarks flew about,
and pasquinades were written to deter young ladies
from such a recreation.
"The waltz, however, struggled successfully
through all its difficulties; Flahault, who was la
fleur des pois in Paris, came over to captivate Miss
Mercer, and with a host of others drove the prudes
into their entrenchments; and when the Emperor
Alexander was seen waltzing round the room at
'Almack's,' with his tight uniform and numerous
decorations, they surrendered at discretion."
The author of "Memoirs of the Times of George
IV." favours us with the following curious comments on quadrilles, then (1811) newly exhibited in
England:—"We had much waltzing and quadrilling,
the last of which is certainly very abominable. I
am not prude enough to be offended with waltzing,
in which I can see no other harm than that it disorders the stomach, and sometimes makes people
look very ridiculous; but after all, moralists, with
the Duchess of Gordon at their head, who never
had a moral in her life, exclaim dreadfully against
it. Nay, I am told that these magical wheelings
have already roused poor Lord Dartmouth from
his grave to suppress them. Alas! after all, people
set about it as gravely as a company of dervises,
and seem to be paying adoration to Pluto rather
than to Cupid. But the quadrilles I can by no
means endure; for till ladies and gentlemen have
joints at their ankles, which is impossible, it is
worse than impudent to make such exhibitions,
more particularly in a place where there are public
ballets every Tuesday and Saturday. When people
dance to be looked at, they surely should dance to
perfection. Even the Duchess of Bedford, who is
the Angiolini of the group, would make an indifferent figurante at the opera; and the principal
male dancer, Mr. North, reminds one of a gibbeted
malefactor, moved to and fro by the winds, but
from no personal exertion."
THE BALL-ROOM, WILLIS'S ROOMS.
In July, 1821, a splendid ball was given here
in honour of the coronation of George IV. by
the special Ambassador from France, the Duc
de Grammont. The King himself was present,
attended by some of his royal brothers, the Duke
of Wellington, and a numerous circle of courtiers.
"Whatever French taste, directed by a Grammont,
could do," writes Mr. Rush in his "Court of
London," "to render the night agreeable, was
witnessed. His suite of young gentlemen from
Paris stood ready to receive the British fair on
their approach to the rooms, and from baskets of
flowers presented them with rich bouquets. Each
lady thus entered the ball-room with one in her
hand; and a thousand posies of sweet flowers displayed their hues, and exhaled their fragrance as
the dancing commenced."
Here, from 1808 to 1810, Mrs. Billington, Mr.
Braham, and Signor Naldi gave concerts, in rivalry
with Madame Catalini at Hanover Square Rooms.
In 1839 Master Bassle, a youth only thirteen years
of age, appeared here in an extraordinary mnemonic
performance; and in 1844 the rooms were taken
by Mr. Charles Kemble, for the purpose of giving
his readings from Shakespeare. In 1851, while
the Great Exhibition was attracting its thousands,
Thackeray here first appeared in public as a lecturer, taking as his subject "The English Humorists." Mr. Tom Taylor tells us an anecdote which
belongs to his very first evening:—"Among the
most conspicuous of the literary ladies at this
gathering was Miss Bronté the authoress of 'Jane
Eyre.' She had never before seen the author of
'Vanity Fair,' though the second edition of her
own celebrated novel was dedicated to him by her,
with the assurance that she regarded him 'as the
social regenerator of his day—as the very master
of that working corps who would restore to rectitude the warped state of things.' Mrs. Gaskell
tells us that, when the lecture was over, the lecturer descended from the platform, and making his
way towards her, frankly asked her for her opinion.
'This,' adds Miss Bronte's biographer, 'she mentioned to me not many days afterwards, adding
remarks almost identical with those which I subsequently read in "Villette," where a similar action
on the part of M. Paul Emanuel is related.' The
remarks of this singular woman on Thackeray and
his writings, and her accounts of other interviews
with him, will be found scattered about Mrs.
Gaskell's biography of her."
As far back as 1840 it was pretty evident that
"Almack's" was on the decline; as a writer in the
Quarterly Review of that time puts it, there was "a
clear proof that the palmy days of exclusiveness are
gone by in England; and," he adds, "though it is
obviously impossible to prevent any given number
of persons from congregating and re-establishing an
oligarchy, we are quite sure that the attempt would
be ineffectual, and that the sense of their importance would extend little beyond the set."
Opposite Willis's Rooms are the auction-rooms
of Messrs. Christie and Manson, still celebrated
as ever for sales of pictures and articles of vertu.
The sale-rooms of Messrs. Christie, as stated in a
previous chapter, were originally in Pall Mall, but
were removed hither in 1823. The eldest son of
him who raised the firm to its lofty position, and
who subsequently was himself its principal, was Mr.
James Christie, no less distinguished as the scholar
and the gentleman than as an auctioneer. His first
literary production was a disquisition upon Etruscan
vases, a subject suggested to him through his intimacy with the collection of the famous Townley
Marbles. Works of a similar character followed
at different times; and, without entering into particulars, it will be sufficient to transcribe the opinion
of the author of a memoir in the Gentleman's Magazine, "that the originality of his discoveries is not
less conspicuous than the taste and talent with
which he explains them." To this we may add,
from the same eloquent tribute to his memory, that
it will not seem surprising to find that such a man
"raised the business he followed to the dignity of
a profession. In pictures, in sculpture, in vertu,
his taste was undisputed, and his judgment deferred
to, as founded on the purest models and the most
accredited standard. If to these advantages we
add that fine moral feeling and that inherent love of
truth which formed the basis of his character, and
which would never permit him for any advantage
to himself or others to violate their obligations, we
may then have some means of judging how in his
hands business became an honourable calling, and
how that which to many is only secular, by him was
dignified into a virtuous application of time and
talents." This, the best of auctioneers, if we may
credit the portrait here drawn of him, died in 1831.
The prices realised in these rooms for books,
pictures, prints, old china, and other curiosities and
antiquities, have almost always been high, though
they have varied according to the direction taken
by each passing mania of the day. It is stated that
a pair of Sevrès china vases, for which in 1874
Lord Dudley gave £6,000 at Christie's, were not
worth more than as many hundreds. It appears
that a rival commission for this was given by one
of the Rothschilds. A story is also told of a nobleman who sent an agent to a sale here with directions to buy a certain picture. The work was
knocked down for a very large sum. "Well," said
his lordship a few days after the sale, "did you
bring the picture home?" "No," said the steward,
"it fetched an enormous price, I did not think it
worth the money, so I did not buy it." "Sir,"
said his lordship, "I did not say anything about
the price; I told you to buy the picture." Similarly,
these two agents of china-loving millionaires were
told to buy the vases, and it is a good thing for
one of the purchasers that both of them were not
guided by the story of the noble lord, who, by the
way, finished his rebuke to the steward with the
remark, "Sir, it was your duty to buy that picture
if you and your opponent had remained bidding
for it until Doomsday."
Among the most important sales that have taken
place here of late years was that of the beautiful
collection of modern pictures, water-colour drawings, and objects of art belonging to Mr. Charles
Dickens, and removed hither from his residence at
Gad's Hill, near Rochester, where he died; the
prices realised at this sale are said to have been
fabulous.
It may be interesting to record here the fact that
the first book-auction in England, of which there is
any record, was held in 1676, when the library of
Dr. Searnan was brought to the hammer. Prefixed
to the catalogue there is an address to the reader,
saying, "Though it has been unusual in England
to make sale of books by auction, yet it hath been
practised in other countries to advantage." For
general purposes this mode of sale was scarcely
known till 1700.
In this street was born, in 1749, Mrs. Charlotte
Smith, well known as a poet and a novelist. She
was the daughter of Nicholas Turner, Esq., of
Bignor Park, Sussex. She was the author of "The
Old Manor House," "Rural Walks," and other
works which enjoyed a wonderful popularity near
the close of the last century. She died in October,
1806, at the age of fifty-seven.
At the beginning of 1847 the future Emperor
of the French, then known as Prince Louis Napoleon, and an exile, took up his abode at No. 1c,
on the north side of King Street, which bears on
its front a tablet commemorating the fact. There
he amused himself by collecting his books, portfolios, and family portraits, and made it his regular
home. He was elected an honorary member of the
Army and Navy Club, where he spent much of
his spare time, rode in Hyde Park constantly, and
frequented "Crockford's" in the evening. Here he
entertained his friends quietly and unostentatiously,
living quite a retired life in his "furnished apartments;" and it is pleasant news to learn, on the
authority of Mr. B. Jerrold, that here the Prince
made some clever sketches of decorations for Lady
Combermere's and Lady Londonderry's stalls at
the great military bazaar for the benefit of the Irish,
which was held in the barracks of the Life Guards.
Louis Napoleon was still living here in the following spring, when he served as one of 150,000
special constables who had been sworn in to keep
order in anticipation of a Chartist rising. And
here, too, he was residing when summoned to Paris
a few months later by the events of the Revolution,
which speedily raised him to the presidential chair,
and ultimately to the imperial throne. When he
entered London in 1855 along with his bride, the
Empress Eugenie, he was seen to point out to her
with interest and pleasure the street in which he
had spent those months of weary waiting, as, amid
the cheering of the crowds, the cortege drove slowly
up St. James's Street.
At one corner of King Street, in the year 1832,
a large saloon, nearly 200 feet in length, was built
for Mr. Crockford, and opened by him as the St.
James's Bazaar. It was not, however, successful
in attracting visitors. Here were exhibited, in 1841,
three dioramic tableaux of the second obsequies of
the great Napoleon in Paris; and in 1844 the first
exhibition of decorative works for the New Houses
of Parliament was held here.
Two main thoroughfares connect King Street on
the north with Jermyn Street—namely, Duke Street
and Bury Street. In the former, on the 12th of
February, 1781, was born Edward Burtenshaw
Sugden, Lord Chancellor of Ireland, and subsequently of England also, and one of the most consummate lawyers of the nineteenth century. His
father was a fashionable hairdresser and wig-maker;
and it is said—we know not with how much of
truth—that the future occupant of the woolsack
and "keeper of Her Majesty's conscience," as a boy,
often held the bridles of the horses of customers
who stopped to make their purchases at the shop of
Mr. Richard Sugden. On one occasion, later in
life, on the Sussex hustings, when reproached with
his being the son of a barber, Mr. Sugden made
the brave and noble reply, "The gentleman before
me asks me if I remember that I am the son of a
tradesman? Yes; I remember it, and know it,
and am proud of it. But the difference between
my assailant and myself is, that I, being a barber's
son, have raised myself to the position of a barrister, while he, if he had been born like me, would
doubtless have remained a barber's son, and perhaps
a barber, all his life." As it was, he netted in middle
life an income of twenty thousand a year, and no
doubt was a great loser in money by accepting a
seat upon the judicial bench. It was late in life
that he took a peerage, his patent as Lord St.
Leonard's being dated 1st of March, 1852, certain
obstacles to its acceptance being then removed.
His lordship died in January, 1875, having reached
the good old age of ninety-four. His will was
afterwards the subject of litigation, the result of
which was to establish, under certain conditions,
the validity of a formal declaration of a testator's
intentions, if satisfactorily proved and corroborated,
as equivalent to a written will, where that will was
known to exist, but was accidentally lost.
In this street Edmund Burke was living in 1795
when his hopes and parental pride were raised to
the highest pitch by the election of his only son,
Richard, in his own room, as M.P. for Malton.
These hopes, however, were destined to be speedily
and rudely cast down, for no sooner had the father
and son returned thither from Yorkshire than the
latter was seized with a fatal illness, and died a
week later at Brompton. The aged statesman was
never himself again, and he survived the heavy
blow only just two years.
At No. 10, now called Sussex Chambers, was
formerly the Association of the Friends of Poland,
over which the late Lord Dudley Coutts Stuart so
long presided. This association was founded in
1832, for the purpose of diffusing information
about Poland, of relieving poor Polish refugees, and
of educating their children. The building, now
the head-quarters of the Catholic Union of Great
Britain, is, or once was, a very fine mansion, with
a noble staircase, ornamental ceilings, and doors
of the finest mahogany. It has below it large
cellars and vaults, which, tradition says, went under
Pall Mall and St. James's Park, and led to the
Houses of Parliament. This, however, must be a
fiction. There may, perhaps, be more truth in the
story that the house was once occupied for a time
by Oliver Cromwell.
Bury (or, more properly, Berry) Street, being so
named after its original builder, being mainly let
out as "apartments for bachelors," has had the
honour of accommodating some distinguished residents; among others, Sir Richard Steele and Dean
Swift, George Crabbe and Thomas Moore. Swift,
as we learn from his writings, occupied a first-floor
set of rooms, for which he paid eight shillings a
week rent, "plaguy dear," as he remarks; but it
is as well that he did not live here in our own day,
and in the "season," or we fear that he would have
found himself far more heavily rented.
Here, upon his marriage, in September, 1707,
"Captain" (afterwards Sir Richard) Steele, the wit
and essayist, took for his lady a house, "the third
door from Germain [Jermyn] Street, left hand of
Berry [Bury] Street." But it is clear, from autograph
letters still to be seen at the British Museum, that
the rent of this nuptial house, so sacred to "Prue,"
and to the tenderness and endearments of the
honeymoon, was not paid until the landlord had
put in an execution upon Steele's furniture. He
appears soon after this to have migrated to Bloomsbury Square, where the same fate befell his establishment. Steele and "Prue" were married, in all
probability, about the 7th of September in the
above-mentioned year. "There are traces," writes
Thackeray, "of a 'tiff' between them in the middle
of the next month; she being as prudish and
fidgety as he was impassioned and reckless."
Swift shared his lodgings here with his "Stella,"
Hester Johnson. Five doors off lived the rival
lady, who flattered him and made love to him so
outrageously, and in the end died for hopeless
love of him—his "Vanessa." Thackeray tells us
that Mrs. Vanhomrigh, "Vanessa's" mother, was
the widow of a Dutch merchant who had held
some lucrative posts in the time of King William.
The family settled in London in Anne's reign, and
had a house in Bury Street—"a street," he adds,
"made notable by such residents as Steele and
Swift, and in our own times by Moore and Crabbe."
In one of his letters Swift describes his lodging in
detail: he has "the first floor, a dining-room and
bed-chamber, at eight shillings a week." He often
lounged in upon the Vanhomrighs. In his journal
to Stella, he writes: "I am so hot and lazy after
my morning's walk that I loitered at Mrs. Vanhomrigh's, where my best gown and my periwig
were, and, out of mere listlessness, dine there very
often: so I did to-day."
On coming up to London from Trowbridge, late
in life, George Crabbe took lodgings in this street,
to be near Rogers and some other literary friends.
Whilst here, he was a frequent visitor at Holland
House, at Mr. Murray's, in Albemarle Street, and
at Lansdowne House, from the doors of which
he had been repulsed by its former owner, Lord
Shelburne. At Holland House he made the
acquaintance of Thomas Campbell, and Tommy
Moore, and Brougham, and Sylvester Douglas, and
the Smiths of the "Rejected Addresses," and
Sydney Smith, and Ugo Foscolo. He writes in
his "diary" on his return, "This visit to London
has been indeed a rich one. I had new things to
see, and was, perhaps, something of a novelty myself.
Mr. Rogers introduced me to almost every man he
is acquainted with; and in this number were comprehended all I was previously very desirous to
obtain a knowledge of." It is only fair to add that
by all that the quiet country parson-poet saw in
the gay world of London he seems to have been
quite unaltered, and that he returned to Trowbridge
and his parochial duties with his head unturned
and his kind heart unchanged.
At the corner of Ryder Street and Duke Street
for many years lived William Yarrell, the naturalist,
the author of "British Fishes," "British Birds,"
&c. He followed the trade of a news-agent. In
1849 he was elected a vice-president of the Linnæan
Society. He died in 1856. His collections of
British fishes, and the specimens illustrative of his
papers in the "Transactions" of the Linnæan
Society, were secured by the trustees of the British
Museum at the sale of Mr. Yarrell's effects.
York Street, a short thoroughfare extending from
the north side of St. James's Square to Jermyn
Street, was the first street in London paved for
foot-passengers. Strype, in his edition of Stow,
describes it as "a broad street coming out of St.
James's Square;" but, he adds, "the greatest part
is taken up by the garden walls of the late Duke of
Ormond's house on the one side, and on the other
by the house inhabited by the Lord Cornwallis."
On the eastern side of this street stood, till the
present year, St. James's Chapel, a dull and poorlooking chapel-of-ease to the parish church. It
was formerly occupied by Josiah Wedgwood, as
a show-room for his pottery and porcelain from
Etruria, in Staffordshire. In previous time this
had been the residence of the Spanish ambassador,
the chapel being used as a Roman Catholic place
of worship under the ambassador's wing. It was
subsequently used by Dissenting congregations,
and from 1866 down to the time of its demolition
it was the scene of the ministrations of the Rev.
Stopford Brooke.
At No. 8 in this street are the offices of the
Charity Commission. The endowed charities
amounted, in 1786, according to returns then made
to Parliament under the Gilbert Act, to £528,710
a year. A Committee of the House of Commons,
moved for by Mr. Brougham in 1816, recommended an inquiry into their condition. The first
commission for this purpose was appointed by the
Crown, under an Act of 1818, and further commissions of inquiry were issued and prosecuted
under that and several subsequent Acts, until 1837.
During many years after this time, numerous ineffectual proposals were made, in and out of Parliament, for the establishment of some jurisdiction
for the permanent superintendence and control of
these endowments. In 1853, an Act for the better
administration of charitable trusts was, however,
obtained, appointing commissioners and inspectors,
but with the very minimum of power which could
be given without rendering the commission altogether nugatory. Beyond a veto on suits by any
one but the Attorney-General, the commissioners
had only powers of inquiry, of advice, and of
rendering assistance in a few cases in which trustees
might seek it. The Act enabled the Lord Chancellor to appoint official trustees of charity funds;
and those officers, who were constituted in 1854,
now hold probably upwards of a million and a half
of charity stock. In 1855, another Act empowered
the Board to apportion parish charities under £30
a year; but with regard to new schemes, its
operations were still subordinate, not only to
Chancery, but to the County Courts. An Act
passed in 1860 for the first time gave the commissioners judicial power over charities of £50 a
year, and like power, with the consent of the
trustees, over larger charities; but being judicial,
they can only be called into operation at the suit
of persons interested in each case. Under the
jurisdiction thus given, the Charity Commission
has aided in establishing improved schemes in
several cases; but a public department, which Parliament did not at its outset place even as high as
a County Court, and which has ever since remained
in the same position, cannot be expected to exercise
influence enough with the public to originate and
carry out any enlarged principles of administration
on a subject in which so many individual and local
prejudices are to be encountered. The Education
Commissioners have proposed to vest the control of
charities in a committee of the Privy Council, which
might be governed less by technical and narrow
rules than by an enlightened public opinion.
Abutting on York Street is Ormond Yard, so
called after the Duke of Ormond, who suffered so
severely in the royal cause during the Civil War.
Mr. P. Cunningham reminds us that "the gallant
Earl of Ossory" was his son, and the beautiful
Countess of Chesterfield, of De Grammont's
"Memoirs," his daughter, and that his grandson
and heir was attainted in 1715 for his share in the
rebellion of that year.
Jermyn Street, which runs parallel with Piccadilly
on the north side of St. James's Square, and
extends from St. James's Street to the Haymarket,
was named from Henry Jermyn, Earl of St. Albans.
This nobleman's residence, called St. Albans House,
was on the south side of the street, and its site
was afterwards occupied by part of Ormond House,
of which we have already spoken. Like many
other staunch loyalists, the Earl of St. Albans was
little remembered by Charles II. He was, however, an attendant at court, and one of his Majesty's
companions in his gay hours. On one of these
occasions a stranger came with an importunate suit
for an office of great value just vacant. The King,
by way of joke, desired the Earl to personate him,
and commanded the petitioner to be admitted.
The gentleman, addressing himself to the supposed
monarch, enumerated his services to the royal
family, and hoped the grant of the place would not
be deemed too great a reward. "By no means,"
answered the Earl, "and I am only sorry, that as
soon as I heard of the vacancy, I conferred it on
my faithful friend, the Earl of St. Albans," pointing
to the King, "who constantly followed the fortunes
both of my father and myself, and has hitherto
gone unrewarded." Charles granted, for this joke,
what the utmost real service would not have received. The Earl was supposed to have been
privately married to the Queen Dowager, Henrietta
Maria, who, as Pennant puts it, "ruled her first
husband, a king; but the second, a subject, ruled
her." The Earl died here in 1683.
In Jermyn Street, near the church, there was
living, in the reign of Queen Anne, a Mrs. Howe,
of whom, or rather of whose husband, we find an
amusing account in Dr. W. King's "Anecdotes of
his Own Time." Her maiden name was Mallett;
she was of a good family in the West of England,
and married a Mr. Howe, who had a fortune of
some £700 or £800 a year. Seven or eight
years after his marriage, when he had two children,
apparently without any reason he disappeared
from his home in Jermyn Street, leading his wife to
suppose that he had gone abroad. For seventeen
years she heard no tidings of him, and, her two
children having died, she removed into a smaller
abode in Brewer Street, Golden Square. It appears
that during all this long period Mr. Howe had gone
no further away than Westminster, where he lived
under an assumed name, and disguised in dress;
that he constantly saw his wife at St. James's
Church, Piccadilly (being so placed that she could
not see him); and even frequented a coffee-house,
from the window of which he could see his own
wife at her meals. The strangest thing is, that
the coffee-house keeper, supposing him to be an
elderly bachelor, recommended to him the deserted
lady and supposed widow as a wife. At the end
of seventeen years, Mr. Howe sent to his wife an
anonymous letter, begging her to be the next
night, at a particular hour, in Birdcage Walk. On
repairing thither, the truant husband declared himself, and they lived happily together ever afterwards. It appears that the eccentric old gentleman
was in the habit of even reading in the newspapers
his wife's petition for a private Act of Parliament,
entitling her and her children to a maintenance out
of his estate; but that, in spite of this, he continued
to keep up his incognito. The story is improbable,
and would make the subject of a comedy.
BURY STREET.
At the Brunswick Hotel, in this street, Louis
Napoleon took up his residence, under the assumed
name of the Comte d'Arenenberg, on his escape
from his captivity in the fortress of Ham, in May,
1846.
THE TURKISH BATH, JERMYN STREET.
On the north side, extending through to the
south of Piccadilly, is the Museum of Practical
Geology and Government School of Mines. It
occupies an area of 70 feet by 153 feet, specially
designed and built for its purposes by Mr. James
Pennithorne, architect, at a cost of £30,000. The
building comprises, on the ground storey, a spacious
hall, formed into three divisions by Doric columns,
for the exhibition of building-stones, marbles, the
heavier geological specimens, and works of art.
Adjoining is a theatre for lectures upon scientific
subjects, capable of accommodating upwards of
600 persons. There is also a library, librarian's
apartments, and reception-room. On each side the
entrance-hall is a staircase, joining in a central
flight between Ionic columns, leading to the
principal floor, containing the museum, a splendid
apartment having two galleries along its sides to
give access to the cases with which the walls are
lined. At the north and south ends are modelrooms, containing a gallery, and connected with
the principal museum. The principal object of the
Government School of Mines, which is engrafted on
the Museum of Practical Geology and Geological
Survey, is to discipline the students thoroughly in
the principles of those sciences upon which the
successful operations of the miner and metallurgist
depend. During the session, viz., from October to
June, courses of lectures are delivered on chemistry,
natural history, physics, mining, mineralogy, geology,
applied mechanics, and metallurgy.
At No. 105, on the south side, is the Royal
Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.
This institution, the only one having for its object
the protection of dumb and defenceless animals,
was founded in 1824, and is under the patronage
of Her Majesty. The labours of this institution
embrace the circulation of appropriate tracts, books,
lectures, and sermons, and the prosecution of persons guilty of acts of cruelty to the brute creation.
At No. 76, on the same side of the street, is the
London and Provincial Turkish Bath Company,
which was established about the year 1860. Here,
as in establishments of a similar kind which have
sprung up in various parts of the United Kingdom,
the plan of the old Roman bath is strictly followed.
There is the Tepidarium, the Sudatorium (heated to
a temperature of 120), and the Calidarium, in
which the heat is exalted to 160 degrees. Next
to this is the Lavatorium, in which the washing
and shampooing process is carried on. Apropos
of such baths, a writer in Once a Week has remarked that "the barbarian Turk has been the
medium of keeping alive one of the most healthful
practices of the ancients. There is scarcely a spot
throughout the United Kingdom in which the
remains of these very baths have not been disinterred and gazed at by the curious during the last
half century. We turn up the flues, still blackened
with the soot of fourteen centuries ago; we find, as
at Uriconium, the very furnaces, with the coal fuel
close at hand; and we know that the hot bath was
not only used by the legionaries who held Britain,
but by the civilised Britons themselves; yet we
must go all the way to the barbarian Turk for
instruction upon one of the simplest and most
effective methods of maintaining the public health."
In 1768 Dr. Hunter gave up his house in this
street to his brother John, and took possession of
one which he had built in Windmill Street, whence
ultimately he moved, as we have noticed in a previous chapter, into Leicester Square.
Jermyn Street appears to have been at one time
inhabited by artists. In 1782, at his rooms in this
street, Mrs. Siddons gave sittings to Sherwin, for her
portrait, in the character of the "Grecian Daughter,"
which was afterwards engraved; the print from
which, in consequence of a purse having been presented to Mrs. Siddons by gentlemen of the long
robe, was dedicated to the Bar.
In this neighbourhood meets a Bohemian club
called the "Century," composed of worshippers of
the philosophy of Herbert Spencer, and other
thinkers of the "advanced" school. The rest of
the street is now mainly devoted to private family
hotels, and to apartments for members of Parliament and aristocratic bachelors. A few years ago
it was one of the head-quarters of gambling-houses.
In some papers in the London Magazine for
1773, signed "Harlequin," the whole of the neighbourhood of St. James's and Pall Mall, which we
have described in this and the preceding chapters,
is fictitiously traversed by a sprite, who peeps in
at St. James's, at Carlton House, in Pall Mall, at
"Boodle's," and at the "stately mansion of the
Northumberlands, at Charing Cross." It is amusing,
at the distance of a century or more, to note the
scenes witnessed by "Harlequin." In St. James's
Palace he saw the interior of the royal nursery,
where "Madame Schulenberg was teaching the
young Prince of Wales to play leap-frog," while
his brother, the "Bishop of Osnaburg," was "riding
a wooden horse called Hanover;" and at Carlton
House, Prince George and the Earl of Bute were
standing in a bow window, while the Queen and
the princess were engaged in working a flowered
waistcoat for the simple and easy-going king.