gay circle, who would not have laughed to scorn the idea that their clerical and gifted host would die by the hands of the common hangman! Bond Street is replete with interesting literary associations. From hence I find Gilbert West, the poet, dating many of his letters to Gray;-here, at the house of Mrs. Miller, Fielding has placed many of the most pathetic scenes in his immortal novel of Tom Jones;-here it was that the unfortunate poet, Richard Savage, besieged the house of his unnatural mother, the Countess of Macclesfield; and here Archibald Bower, author of the History of the Popes,"-so remarkable for his eccentric vices and strange adventures,-breathed his last. He died in September, 1766, and was buried in Mary-le-bone churchyard, where there is a monument to his memory. 66 In 1769, Boswell lived in lodgings in Old Bond Street. He mentions, on one occasion, entertaining at dinner, in this street, Dr. Johnson, Sir Joshua Reynolds, Garrick, Goldsmith, Murphy, Tom Davis, the bookseller and actor, and Bickerstaff, the author of "Love in a Village,"† But there are literary associations still more interesting connected with Bond Street. It was here that Gibbon passed his solitary evenings, composing his immortal history. Every one remembers the memorable passage, in which the great historian paints his lonely situation in the * Johnson's "Life of Savage." + Boswell's "Life of Johnson." midst of the fashionable world. "I had not been endowed by art or nature with those happy gifts of confidence and address, which unlock every door and every bosom; nor would it be reasonable to complain of the just consequences of my sickly childhood, foreign education, and reserved temper. While coaches were rattling through Bond Street, I have passed many a solitary evening in my lodging with my books. My studies were sometimes interrupted by a sigh, which I breathed towards Lausanne; and on the approach of spring, I withdrew without reluctance from the noisy and extensive scene of crowds without company, and dissipation without pleasure."* Sterne breathed his last in Bond Street. We are told, in the Memoir of him attached to his works, that "he submitted to fate on the 18th day of March, 1768, at his Bond Street." lodgings in Mr. D'Israeli observes:-"It does not appear to have been noticed that Sterne died with neither friend nor relation by his side! a hired nurse was the sole companion of the man whose wit found admirers in every street, but whose heart, it would seem, could not draw one to his deathbed. We cannot say whether Sterne, who had been long dying, had resolved to practise his own principle, when he made the philosopher Shandy, who had a fine saying for everything, deliver his * Gibbon's Memoirs of his Life and Writings. opinion on death, that there is no terror, brother Toby, in its looks, but what it borrows from groans and convulsions, and the blowing of noses, and the wiping away of tears with the bottoms of curtains in a dying man's room. Strip it of these, what is it?' I find the moment of his death described in a singular book, the "Life of a Footman.” I give it with all its particulars :- 'In the month of January, 1768, we set off for London. We stopped for some time at Almack's house in Pall Mall. My master afterwards took Sir James Gray's house in Clifford Street, who was going ambassador to Spain. He now began house-keeping, hired a French cook, house-maid, and kitchenmaid, and kept a great deal of the best company. About this time, Mr. Sterne, the celebrated author, was taken ill at the silk-bag shop in Old Bond Street. He was sometimes called Tristram Shandy, and sometimes Yorick, a very great favourite of the gentlemen's. One day my master had company to dinner, who were speaking about him; the Duke of Roxburgh, the Earl of March, the Earl of Ossory, the Duke of Grafton, Mr. Garrick, Mr. Hume, and Mr. James. 'John,' said my master, 'go and inquire how Mr. Sterne is to-day.' I went, returned, and said, 'I went to Mr. Sterne's lodging the mistress opened the door-I inquired how he did. She told me to go up to the nurse; I went into the room, and he was just a-dying. I waited ten minutes; but in five, he said, 'Now is it come!' He put up his hand, as if to stop A cheerless end, neglected Sterne, was thine! Thou who didst boast when youthful blood ran warm, Lone was thy parting scene! no friend was there, Thy sole companion was the hireling nurse, The hireling mute sole mourner o'er thy hearse !-J. H. J. Sterne was interred in the burying-ground belonging to the parish of St. George, Hanover Square, near Connaught Place, where a monu ment, erected by two brother free-masons to his memory, may still be seen.† "Calamities of Authors." + Memoir prefixed to his works. The literary interest which attaches itself to Bond Street, has descended even to our own time. In the days of his dissipation, "Stevens's" hotel, near Clifford Street, was the favourite resort of Lord Byron; and, in 1815, we find Sir Walter Scott residing at a neighbouring hotel, "Long's." "I saw Lord Byron for the first time," says Sir Walter, "in 1815, after I returned from France. He dined, or lunched, with me at Long's, in Bond Street. I never saw him so full of gaiety and good-humour, to which the presence of Mr. Matthews, the comedian, added not a little. Poor Terry was also present. After one of the gayest parties I ever was present at, my fellow-traveller and I set off for Scotland, and I never saw Lord Byron again." * Bond Street, it may be remarked, derives its name from Sir Thomas Bond, whose house, in Piccadilly, we find temporarily occupied by the French ambassador, in 1699. The building of Old Bond Street was commenced about the year 1716; and, even at this early period, we find it a fashionable lounging-place. In the "Weekly Journal,” of the 1st of June, 1717, we read, "The new buildings, between Bond Street and Mary-le-bone, go on with all possible diligence; and the houses even let and sell before they are built. They are already in great forwardness. Could the builders have supposed their labours would have produced *Moore's "Life of Lord Byron." |