From the corner of Wilton Place the row extends ten houses further. No. 28 was Mr. Blore’s, the statuary’s. A house which stood at the corner, and narrowed the entrance to Wilton Place very considerably, was removed about 1841. For many years a Mrs. Dowell carried on the business of tobacconist here. She was an eccentric old damsel, and so exceedingly partial to the late Duke of Wellington, that she was continually inventing some new plan whereby to express her regard. She sent him occasionally patties, cakes, and other similar delicacies, and as it was useless to attempt to defeat the old woman’s pertinacity, everything was taken in. To such a pitch did she carry this mania, that I have heard she regularly laid for him at her table, constantly expecting he would call in. With her lodged William Pickett, who lived in Knightsbridge the greater part of his life. A gravestone in St. George’s ground tells his short history:—

“Sacred to the memory of Mr. William Pickett, artist,
who died at Knightsbridge, on the 23rd day of May, 1821,
aged 45 years.”

I must not leave St. George’s Place without a notice of John Liston. He was born in 1776; and his father, who lived in Norris Street, giving him a superior education, he, in 1795, became second master at Archbishop Tennison’s school near Leicester Square; but thus early the stage appears to have fascinated him, for he quitted his situation for acting plays with the elder boys. He then went into a mercantile house in the City.

When Liston first appeared on the stage is not accurately known; but the following note from a celebrated manager of the time appears to prove that to him, at least, he was well known. It is as follows,—verbatim:—

“Sir,

“Your not favoring Me with an answr Relative to the I-dea of the Cast, I at Random (tho’ very ill) Scratch’t Out, Makes it Necessary for Me to have Your Opinion, in Order to Prevent Aney Mistake. I am,

“Sir,
“With every Good Wish,
“Yours, &c.,
“Tate Wilkinson.”

He now followed the stage as a profession, and obtained engagements at various provincial establishments; among others, at Newcastle-on-Tyne, under Stephen Kemble. The first comic part he performed was the very subordinate one of Diggory, and even in this little part contrived to throw that irresistible originality of humour for which he afterwards became so celebrated. I have seen the copy the actor learnt from, with his erasures, interlineations, &c.

His first acknowledged appearance on a London stage was at the Haymarket, on June 10th, 1805, as Sheepface, in “The Village Lawyer.” On the same evening Miss Tyrer made her re-appearance after a lapse of three years. She was soon after to become his wife, and they were married on Sunday, March 22nd, 1807, at St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields. Their mutual friend, Charles Taylor, the celebrated Noodle, in “Tom Thumb,” gave the wedding breakfast. The union proved a happy one; one son and daughter were its issue. The former entered the army; the latter married Rodwell, the composer.

It is impossible, in this sketch of Liston’s life, to notice all his various performances and successes. His leading triumphs can alone be glanced at. In January, 1823, he commenced a £50 per week engagement at Drury Lane, as Tony Lumpkin; and in May, 1824, George IV. commanded the “Hypocrite,” and heartily encored Mawworm’s mock sermon. It was a favourite part of Liston’s, and his performance of it inimitable. I have seen a letter from a distinguished living actor, who had played the part, he says, “greatly against the grain, well recollecting Mr. Liston’s unapproachable excellence in it.”

In the ensuing year he reached the pinnacle of his fame by his impersonation of Paul Pry. The popularity of the piece was immense, and chiefly through the unequalled ease and skill with which he acted his part. His well-known countenance was to be met with in every conceivable form, in plaster and clay, in china and butter, in the centre of pocket handkerchiefs, tobacconists’ “screw” papers, and in a variety of other ways, his unbounded success with the public was attested.

In 1831 he joined Madame Vestris, and performed with increasing popularity until the end of the season 1837. He never took a farewell formally of the stage; and the last time he ever performed was for the benefit of James Vining, in Planché’s “Peculiar Position;” and as Monsieur Champignon he ended his professional career. It was, I believe, known to his friends that this would be his last appearance, and the following address was written by Rodwell on this occasion. It has never, I believe, been published:—