DENMAN HOUSE, PICCADILLY.

(The Vignette shows the old building, No. 20, rebuilt 1903).

It is altogether cloistral, and the curious covered passageway running through from Piccadilly to Burlington Gardens, from which suites of rooms are reached, helps to give it that seclusion which Macaulay, one of its most notable inhabitants, delighted in. It combined what he best liked—“a college life at the West End of London.” The various suites are numbered in blocks; thus, Macaulay’s was No. 1 E, on the second floor, where the earlier volumes of the great history were written; “Monk” Lewis lived in No. 61 K.; George Canning at No. 5 A. Lord Byron and Lord Lytton both had sets of chambers here, and the former enters in his journal for March 28th, 1814, the fact that on that day he took possession of the rooms, rented from Lord Althorp for seven years. It was from here that he set out to be married to Miss Milbanke on a fateful day for them both, January 2nd, 1815. Lytton, at a later date, occupied the same apartments, and wrote many of his novels here. Lady Lytton once told a friend that she had heard from him that he was here “with Solitude”; but, paying her lord and master an unexpected visit, she found “Solitude” gowned in white muslin and sitting on his knee!

BURLINGTON HOUSE.

Close to Bond Street is shown on the plan of 1720 the large building of old Burlington House. The illustration, taken from an old print of the period, gives an excellent view of it, with its ample courtyard in front and its extensive gardens behind. Think of the site of this being at the time of the Restoration nothing but pasture land! Pepys says that Denham, who wrote those two immortal lines on the Thames, and who is said by De Grammont to have poisoned his wife (who, if such a proceeding could be justified, would seem to have given her lord every reason, by her conduct with the Duke of York), built the house. Denham does not appear to have ever lived in it, however; its original occupier being the first Earl of Burlington, and it was when once visiting him here that Pepys, in endeavouring to seal a letter, set his periwig on fire, as readers of his diary will remember.

The glory of the mansion commenced with the third Earl of Burlington, that munificent patron of art and practical architect, whose praises Pope and Gay and Walpole were never tired of singing. He it was who rebuilt the place essentially as it is to-day, the chief portion of the design being due, however, to Colin Campbell. The semi-circular colonnade which originally flanked the house, as well as the long wall, according to Ralph, the most expensive in England, with its three entrances facing Piccadilly, were taken down in 1868.

When, in process of time, the place came into the possession of the Cavendishes, they sold it, in 1854, to the Government for £140,000. For a time it seemed uncertain to what purpose it would be relegated, and all sorts of suggestions were made. Finally it was added to by new buildings in Burlington Gardens, for the use of the University of London, and by a new façade facing Piccadilly. Now-a-days several learned Societies have their headquarters in portions of the extensive buildings, but to “the man in the street” Burlington House spells the Royal Academy, the council of which obtained a lease of their building in 1866.

OLD BURLINGTON HOUSE AND GARDENS, PICCADILLY.

Now let us find our way back again to Piccadilly by the easy route, especially in wet weather, of the Burlington Arcade—a sort of Passage des Princes of London—designed for Lord George Cavendish, in 1818, which tradition says was originally intended as a covered court to prevent dirt and rubbish from being thrown on the walks of Burlington House gardens.