CHAPTER V. THE NEIGHBOURHOOD OF ST. JAMES'S STREET. - St. James's Bennet Street - Arlington Street Park Place. THE streets diverging from St. James's Street are all of them more or less associated with some person of celebrity or some event of interest. As we descend toward St. James's Palace, the first opening to the right is Bennet Street, a small avenue leading to Arlington Street. At No. 4 Bennet Street, in the apartments which he occupied on the first floor, Lord Byron composed the "Giaour," the "Bride of Abydos," and the "Corsair." He resided here during a great part of the years of 1813 and 1814, and sometimes in his letters amuses himself with playfully styling it Benedictine Street. Let us pass on to Arlington Street, so called from the Bennets, Earls of Arlington, which, considering how small a number of houses it contains, has been inhabited by a greater number of persons of note and genius than perhaps any other street of the same size in London. As early as the reign of Queen Anne we find it containing the residences of several persons of rank. Here, in 1708, were residing the Duke of Richmond, Lord Brook, Lord Cholmondley, Lord Guildford, and Lord Kingston. Here, before her marriage, in the pride of youth, of beauty, and of genius, resided Lady Mary Wortley Montagu; here, in 1739, lived the celebrated William Pulteney, afterward Earl of Bath, and to this street, three years afterward, retired his great rival, Sir Robert Walpole, when his famous defeat in the House of Commons terminated his long political career. It was here that the great minister breathed his last. In a small house, adjoining that of his father, his scarcely less celebrated son, Horace Walpole, resided for many years, and from hence many of the most charming of his letters are dated. To Arlington Street, when Prince of Wales, George the Second retired to sulk with his small court after his memorable quarrel with his father; and here the celebrated Duke of Cumberland, the "Butcher" of Culloden, dined the same day on which he died. Charles James Fox resided for some time in Arlington Street; and here, at the house of the Duke of Rutland, lamented by every one but his creditors, his late Royal Highness, the Duke of York, breathed his last. As we pass down St. James's Street, the next opening on the west side is Park Place. At No. 9 lived the well-known antiquary, Sir William Musgrave, and in this street Hume, the historian, resided when under secretary of state in 1769. We next arrive at St. James's Place, a street in which the houses remain nearly the same as they existed in the days of Queen Anne. Here the celebrated Addison had a house, and in this street occasionally resided Thomas Parnell, the poet, the friend and correspondent of Congreve, Addison, and Steele, of Swift, Pope, Gay, and Arbuthnot. Future chroniclers of the local associations of London will point out the residence of a third poet, Mr. Rogers, and will do honour to the walls where Byron, Southey, Wordsworth, Coleridge, and Campbell have been favoured guests, and in which, at different times, have assembled all the wit, the beauty, and the talent of the present century. In St. James's Place, in a house overlooking the Green Park, lived the charming and beautiful Mary Lepel, Lady Hervey, the idol of her contemporaries, and celebrated in verse by Pope, Gay, Voltaire, Arbuthnot, Pulteney, and Lord Chesterfield: "Now Hervey, fair of face, I mark full well, With thee, youth's youngest daughter, sweet Lepel." Gay. Lady Hervey writes from Ickworth Park on the 5th of April, 1749: "I am preparing a dwelling that will suit better with my purse, though not so well with my inclination. I have paid dear to make that dwelling look as like the country as I can ; but I have been too much used to grass and green trees to bear the changing them for brick walls and dust." Lady Hervey could scarcely have fixed on any spot in London which had more the appearance of being in the country. The house in question was afterward the residence of Lord Hastings, and is now divided into two. At No. 13 St. James's Place lived Mrs. Robinson, the actress, and here also, in 1756, resided the celebrated John Wilkes. Lastly, in St. James's Place lived the Right Honourable Richard Rigby, the jovial politician and bon-vivant of the last century; whose name is so intimately connected with the social and convivial history of that period, and will probably long live in the pages of Junius, Wraxall, and Horace Walpole. If St. James's Place is famous for having been the residence of the poets, Cleveland Row (at the bottom of St. James's Street, facing the palace) is no less remarkable as having been frequented by the wits. Here resided Colonel John Selwyn, an aid-de-camp of the great Duke of Marlborough, and the father of the memorable wit, George Selwyn; and it was in his house that the celebrated personal encounter took place between Sir Robert Walpole, then prime minister, and Lord Townshend, one of the secretaries of state. particulars may be briefly related. The During an altercation, in which they were engaged, Sir Robert exclaimed, with considerable warmth: "My lord, for once, there is no man's sincerity whom I so much doubt as your lordship's." Lord Townshend, who to many excellent qualities united a fiery and uncertain temperament, immediately seized the first minister by the throat. Sir Robert grappled with his antagonist in return, and, after a momentary struggle, both parties mutually relinquished their grasp and laid their hands on their swords. Mrs. Selwyn, who was present, ran out in a fright to call in the palace guard; she was prevented, however, by the celebrated Henry Pelham, by whose interposition the friends were subsequently reconciled. According to Wraxall, Gay introduced this scene into the Beggar's Opera," where Walpole and Townshend are represented as Peachum and Lockit. Unfortunately, however, for the truth of this literary anecdote, I find that the fracas between the two ministers of state did not take place till the year 1729, at which period the "Beggar's Opera" had had the run of the stage about a year. 66 It was in the house where this extraordinary scene occurred, that George Selwyn resided for some years, and here he died, penitent and devout, on the 25th of January, 1791. Close to him, in Cleveland Court, died, in 1805, his friend Gilly Williams, another celebrated wit of the last century, whose correspondence with Selwyn, during |