Congreve, in his “Love for Love,” alludes, in a regular woman’s quarrel, to the place:—
Mrs. Frail.—Pooh, here’s a clutter!—Why should it reflect upon you?—I don’t doubt but you have thought yourself happy in a hackney coach before now. If I had gone to Knightsbridge, or to Chelsea, or to Spring Garden, or Barn Elms, with a man alone—something might have been said.
Mrs. Foresight.—Why, was I ever in any of those places! What do you mean, sister?
Mrs. Frail.—Was I? what do you mean?
Mrs. Foresight.—You have been at a worse place.
Mrs. Frail.—I at a worse place, and with a man!
Mrs. Foresight.—I suppose you would not go alone to the World’s End?
Mrs. Frail.—The World’s End! What do you mean to banter me?
Mrs. Foresight.—Poor innocent; you don’t know that there is a place called the World’s End. I’ll swear you can keep your countenance—surely you’ll make an admirable player.
Mrs. Frail.—I’ll swear you have a great deal of impudence, and, in my mind, too much for the stage.
Mrs. Foresight.—Very well, that will appear who has most. You never were at the World’s End?
Mrs. Frail.—No.
Mrs. Foresight.—You deny it positively to my face?
Mrs. Frail.—Your face! what’s your face?
Mrs. Foresight.—No matter for that, it is as good a face as yours.
Mrs. Frail.—Not by a dozen years’ wearing. But I do deny it, positively, to your face, then.
Mrs. Foresight.—I’ll allow you now to find fault with my face; for I’ll swear your impudence has put me out of countenance. But look you here now; where did you lose this gold bodkin?—Oh, sister!—oh, sister!
Mrs. Frail.—My bodkin!
Mrs. Foresight.—Nay, it is yours—look at it.
Mrs. Frail.—Well, if you go to that, where did you find this bodkin? Oh sister! sister! sister every way!
Mrs. Foresight.—Oh! devil on’t that I could not discover her without betraying myself. (Aside.)
The house belonging to this garden stood till about 1826. For many years it was the residence of a Dr. C. Kelly, who here had an anatomical museum. He resided here in 1773, and quitted it about 1805. The house was afterwards tenanted by a gentleman named Bowes; and the museum became the auction-room of Mr. Herring. About 1818, Warren, builder to George III., took the premises; he turned the whole into workshops. After him came Mr. Cubitt, who, about 1828, procuring a lease from Mr. Lowndes, pulled the whole down, and laid out the ground for buildings. The first houses were erected about 1836–7, but it was not till 1849 that the square was wholly completed.
Various relics of the Civil War have been found on this site: arms, spurs, bits, cockades, &c.; and relics telling of a different kind of struggle—staves and handcuffs, evidences of successful rencontres between the footpad and the constable. A path by the stream’s side ran along to Bloody Bridge, proceeding thence to Ranelagh. On grand gala nights such paths were protected by patrols and the more able of the Chelsea Pensioners.
Among the eminent inhabitants of Lowndes Square may be enumerated the late Sir William Molesworth and Mr. Leader, M.P. for Westminster, at No. 1; Mr. M. J. Higgins, celebrated for his contributions on military matters to the Times, also lived at No. 1. He is thus delineated by Mrs. Gascoigne in her poem, “Belgravia:”—
“Nor whilst my muse still haunts these favourite bounds,
Shall she forget to sing thy Square, O Lowndes!
Harbour of peace, near which the troubled sea
Of human traffic roars unceasingly,
Yet enters not—though day by day it swells
Fiercer and fiercer; at the opening dwells
A man whom rage and clamour ne’er withstood,
The well-known champion of the neighbourhood!
Him all who seek oppression view with fear,
For sharp his wit, his mind acute and clear!
With subtlest force, he wields the powerful pen.
But aims it at abuses, not at men!
Him Vestries know, and Rate Collectors dread,
For cool his spirit—hard his reasoning head;
And though a giant in his strength he be,
Yet free from Tyrant’s love of rule is he;
And whilst men seek, and to his judgment bend,
They find in him a leader and a friend.” [154]
Mrs. Gascoigne, author of “Belgravia,” “Spencer’s Cross Manor House,” “The Next Door Neighbours,” and other works, resides at No. 14. Admiral Sotheby, one who fought at the Nile, lived at No. 38, and died January, 20th, 1854. Sir Henry Campbell, who died in 1856, Sir Willoughby Cotton, Mr. Tite, M.P., Mr. Brassey, the extensive contractor, Mr. Whiteside, M.P., Mr. R. B. Wingfield, and Mr. Malins, M.P., number also among the inhabitants of Lowndes Square.
The row of houses on the south side was designed by Mr. Lewis Cubitt, and with greater regard to architectural effect than anything of its kind then in the metropolis. It was built in 1843.
Lowndes Terrace—A row of shops between William Street and Sloane Street, occupying the site of a row of old-fashioned houses, of two storeys high, with pleasant gardens in front and rear, giving the roadway quite a rural appearance. The house at the eastern end belonged to one Banting, who built some projecting shops over the front gardens in 1815, and named the row Waterloo Market. His expectations were not realised; and in 1823 these old premises were removed, and the present houses erected. There were but six houses. At No. 5 resided, fifty years ago, Andrews, an artist of some repute in his day; and at No. 6 for some years lived the mother of Rodwell, the author and composer; and her son’s early years were partly passed at this pleasant spot.
At the west end of this row a narrow lane, called Porter’s Lane, led to the fields. On its right-hand side, and divided from it by a hedge, stood a large detached mansion, known as Knightsbridge Grove, approached through a fine avenue of stately trees from the highway. For many years a man named Hicks, a “sporting character,” kept the place, and George IV., when Prince of Wales, and others of similar tastes, were led hither. Mr. Egg, the gunmaker, once erected a large wooden building for some balloon experiments in the grounds. And this was, I believe, the house where the notorious Teresa Cornellys attempted to recover her bygone reputation.