The “May Fair” continued as a regular institution until 1708, when it was put a stop to, chiefly on account of the disorders arising from it, and the questionable company that attended its equally questionable exhibitions; but partly on account, no doubt, of the erection of houses and the formation of streets, which began about this time. It, however, died hard, and was intermittently revived, in gradually lessening form; prize-fighting, boxing, and bull-baiting taking the place of “stage-plays and musick,” till nearly the end of the 18th century, when it ceased altogether to exist, and left only its name as evidence of its former vitality.
DAVIES STREET.
Before entering Grosvenor Square, Davies Street has a particular interest in that it takes its name from that Mary Davies, daughter of Alexander Davies, of Ebury, who married Sir Thomas Grosvenor, and through whom the bulk of this great property came into the possession of the Westminster family.
At its Oxford Street end, Davies Street practically forms one with South Molton Lane, which at the beginning of the 18th century rejoiced in the not very euphonious designation of Shug Lane. There is, however, little to delay us here, unless we have a mind to glance into the modern church of St. Anselm, designed by Messrs. Balfour and Thackeray Turner, in the Byzantine style, and opened about eleven years since. I may, however, remind the reader that “Joe” Manton, the great gunmaker, carried on business at Nos. 24 and 25; and also that Tom Moore was living in the street, in 1817.
Turning into Brook Street, let us enter Grosvenor Square at its north-east corner.
GROSVENOR SQUARE.
Grosvenor Square is the largest (it is about six acres in extent) and, in some respects, the most fashionable of London’s “quadrates.” It was formed in 1695, by that great builder Sir Richard Grosvenor, who employed Kent, the celebrated landscape gardener, to lay out the central enclosure, in which once stood the statue of George I. by Van Nost. It was on this spot that the citizens of London, when setting up those defences against the Royalists, in 1642, on which we found them engaged when we were wandering in the Green Park, erected an earthwork, known as Oliver’s Mound, from which we may probably infer the personal superintendence of the future Protector, or at least his rapidly growing influence.
As to-day nearly every house in Grosvenor Square is occupied by some influential or notable individual, so in the past has, practically, each been the home of an interesting personality. The great Earl of Chesterfield was living here in 1733, until he moved to the new mansion he had erected for himself facing the Park, and here it was that Johnson was “repulsed from his doors” or “waited in his outward rooms.” Chesterfield, it will be remembered, married the daughter (she was then termed the niece) of that ill-favoured mistress of George I., Melusina de Schulemberg, created by her royal admirer, Duchess of Kendal, who, by the bye, also resided in the Square. The Marquis of Rockingham, once for a short time Prime Minister, died here in 1782, and Lord North, another Prime Minister, just ten years later, after he had left his former residence in Grosvenor Street, where we have already met with him.
Besides these two first ministers of the Crown, politics have been represented by a number of other well-known names, from which I can but pick out those of Lord Chancellor Hardwicke, who was here for half a dozen years; the Earl of Harrowby, at whose house—formerly No. 39, but now 44—the Cato Street conspirators hoped to make a holocaust of the entire Government; Lord Canning, in 1841, and another member of the same gifted family, Lord Stratford de Redclyffe, who died here in 1880, and whose effigy may be seen beside that of Lord Canning in the Abbey. Thomas Raikes, who was called by the wits “Phœbus Apollo,” because he rose in the east and set in the west—an allusion to his dual connection with the City and Mayfair—was one of Grosvenor Square’s past inhabitants of interest. Raikes is now remembered by his diary, a valuable record of his times, and his correspondence and friendship with Wellington, but his brother Robert, the initiator of Sunday Schools, carved out a name, aere perennius, for himself, and by its reflected light Thomas is also partially illuminated. That curious compound of genius and eccentricity, William Beckford, who wrote “Vathek” in three days and nights without intermission, and, what is more, wrote it in French, also lived here, at No. 22. Here was housed a portion of that extraordinary collection of pictures, books, furniture, and bric-a-brac which came, through the marriage of Miss Beckford with the Duke of Hamilton, into the possession of the latter; and the dispersal of which, in the eighties, was the sensation of the season, and crowded Christie’s and Sotheby’s with a wondering and envying throng.
Beckford used to be visited here by Lord Nelson and Lady Hamilton, two of the very few people he would ever admit to view the wonders of Fonthill, his Wiltshire seat, from the doors of which fairy palace he once repulsed George IV. himself. Apropos there is a story of a man forcing his way into Fonthill by some subterfuge, and being entertained en grand seigneur by the owner. When, however, the hour for retiring came, Beckford led him to the front door, and wished him good-night, adding that he had better be careful of the bloodhounds. The wretched man then realised that he was alone in a vast Park with no companions but his host’s formidable guardians, and he is said to have passed the night in the first tree he could climb.