Such was Miss Landon’s schoolmistress; and under this lady’s especial instruction did Miss Mitford pass the years 1802, 3, and 4; together they read “chiefly poetry;” and “besides the readings,” says Miss Mitford, “Miss R. compensated in another way for my unwilling application. She took me often to the theatre; whether as an extra branch of education, or because she was herself in the height of a dramatic fever, it would be invidious to inquire. The effect may be easily foreseen; my enthusiasm soon equalled her own; we began to read Shakspeare, and read nothing else.”

In 1810 Miss Mitford first appeared as an authoress, by publishing a volume of poems, which, in the course of the following year, passed into a second edition.

At No. 21 Hans Place, the talented artistes, Mr. and Mrs. Alfred Wigan, resided some time.

Returning from Hans Place to the Fulham Road through New Street, No. 7 may he pointed out as the house formerly occupied by Chalon, “animal painter to the royal family;” and No. 6 as the residence of the Right Hon. David R. Pigot, the late Solicitor-General for Ireland, while (in 1824–25) studying in the chambers of the late Lord Chief-Justice Tindal, for the profession of which his pupil rapidly became an eminent member.

Brompton was formerly an airy outlet to which the

citizen, with his spouse, were wont to resort for an afternoon of rustic enjoyment. It had also the reputation of being a locality favourable to intrigue. Steele, shrewdly writing on the 27th July, 1713, says:—

“Dear Wife,—If you please to call at Button’s, we will go together to Brompton.

“Yours ever,
“Richard Steele.” [38a]

Now is Brompton all built or being built over, which makes the precise locality of crescents and rows puzzling to old gentlemen. Its heath is gone, and its grove represented by a few dead trunks and some unhealthy-looking trees which stand by the road-side, their branches lopped and their growth restrained by order of the district surveyor; and Brompton National School, nearly opposite to New Street, a building in the Tudor style, was, in 1841, wedged in there “for the education of 400 children, after the design of Mr. George Godwin, jun.;” so at least the newspapers of the day informed the public.

Brompton Row on the north, or right-hand side of the main Fulham Road, now consists of fifty-five respectable-looking houses, uniform, or nearly so, in appearance; and, according to the statements in the ‘Gentleman’s Magazine’ [38b] and Mr. Faulkner’s ‘History of Kensington’ [38c] here died Arthur Murphy. But although this was not the case, in Brompton Row have lived and died authors, and actors, and artists, whose performances deserve full as much consideration from posterity.

No. 14 Brompton Row was the abode for more than ten years (1820 to 1831) of John Vendramini, a distinguished engraver.