To these may be added the names of two military veterans. Lord Raglan, in 1853, and Viscount Hardinge, who died at No. 15, three years later; as well as Colonel Barré, who lived at No. 12, where he died, in 1802.

Before proceeding into Curzon Street, let us return by way of South Audley Street, and turn into Waverton Street, which forms the west side of a species of gridiron of thoroughfares, of which Farm Street is the north side and Charles Street the south.

FARM STREET.

Farm Street is one of the thoroughfares that took their names from their association with those agricultural pursuits which we have nowadays such difficulty in associating with this fashionable neighbourhood. This “common pasturage” and the “milk maids” formerly connected with it, have been recently brought vividly to mind by the action of the “milk ladies” of St. James’s Park, the lineal descendants of those of Mayfair, who successfully resisted an attempt to deprive them of their rights.

A Jesuit Church stands in Farm Street, that of the Immaculate Conception, which, it is interesting to remember, was the first regular church possessed by the Jesuits in London after their expulsion from Somerset House and St. James’s under Charles I.

JOHN STREET.

John Street, laid out about 1730, running at right angles, connects Farm Street with Hill Street, and also possesses a church; in this case the well-known Berkeley Chapel, built about 1750, of which Sydney Smith and, later, Cary, the translator of Dante, were former incumbents. The chapel has been twice redecorated, in 1874 and 1895; and, apart from its associations, is worth a visit, if only to see the memorial window placed there to the memory of the late Duke of Clarence.

HILL STREET.

Hill Street, formed about 1742, probably takes its name from some inequality of the ground, more pronounced when all this part was fields than now when building development has been responsible for a generally levelling process.

Mrs. Montagu lived in Hill Street, while she was building for herself the fine mansion in Portman Square, where she covered the walls with birds’ feathers and “wanton Cupids,” and once a year entertained the chimney-sweeps of the district.