Part 3

“No part of this talk which you impose is uneasy; except the necessity of using the singular number so often. That one letter (I) is a most dangerous monosyllable, and gives an air of vanity to the modestest discourse whatsoever. But you will remember I write this only by way of apology; and that, under accusation, it is allowable to plead any thing for defence, though a little tending to our own commendation.

“To begin then without more preamble: I rise, now in summer, about seven a clock, from a very large bedchamber (entirely quiet, high, and free from the early sun) to walk in the garden; or, if rainy, in a saloon filled with pictures, some good, but none disagreeable: there also, in a row above them, I have so many portraits of famous persons in several kinds, as are enough to excite ambition in any man less lazy, or less at ease, than myself.

“Instead of a little closet (according to the unwholesome custom of most people) I chuse this spacious room for all my small affairs, reading books or writing letters; where I am never in the least tired, by the help of stretching my legs sometimes in so large a room, and of looking into the pleasantest park in the world just underneath it.

“Visits, after a certain hour, are not to be avoided; some of which I own to be a little fatiguing (tho’ thanks to the town’s laziness, they come pretty late) if the garden was not so near, as to give a seasonable refreshment between those ceremonious interruptions. And I am more sorry than my coachman himself, if I am forced to go abroad any part of the morning. For though my garden is such, as by not pretending to rarities or curiosities, has nothing in it to inveagle ones thoughts; yet by the advantage of situation and prospect, it is able to suggest the noblest that can be; in presenting at once to view a vast town, a palace, and a magnificent cathedral. I confess the last, with all its splendor, has less share in exciting my devotion, than the most common shrub in my garden; for though I am apt to be sincerely devout in any sort of religious assemblies, from the very best (that of our own church) even to those of Jews, Turks, and Indians: yet the works of nature appear to me the better sort of sermons; and every flower contains in it the most edifying rhetorick, to fill us with admiration of its omnipotent Creator. After I have dined (either agreeably with friends, or at worst with better company than your country neighbours) I drive away to a place of air and exercise; which some constitutions are in absolute need of: agitation of the body and diversion of the mind, being a composition of health above all the skill of Hippocrates.

“The small distance of this place from London, is just enough for recovering my weariness, and recruiting my spirits so as to make me better than before I set out, for either business or pleasure. At the mentioning the last of these, methinks I see you smile; but I confess myself so changed (which you maliciously, I know, will call decayed) as to my former enchanting delights, that the company I commonly find at home is agreeable enough to make me conclude the evening on a delightful terrace, or in a place free from late visits except of familiar acquaintance.

“By this account you will see that most of my time is conjugally spent at home; and consequently you will blame my laziness more than ever, for not employing it in a way which your partiality is wont to think me capable of: therefore I am obliged to go on with this trifling description, as some excuse for my idleness. But how such a description itself is excusable, is what I should be very much in pain about, if I thought any body could see it besides yourself, who are too good a judge in all things to mistake a friend’s compliance in a private letter, for the least touch of vanity.

“The avenues to this house are along St. James’s Park, through rows of goodly elms on one hand, and gay flourishing limes on the other; that for coaches, this for walking; with the Mall lying betwixt them. This reaches to my iron pallisade that encompasses a square court, which has in the midst a great basin with statues and water-works; and from its entrance rises all the way imperceptibly, till we mount to a terrace in the front of a large hall, paved with square white stones mixed with a dark-colour’d marble; the walls of it covered with a set of pictures done in the school of Raphael. Out of this on the right hand we go into a parlour thirty-three feet by thirty-nine, with a niche fifteen feet broad for a beausette, paved with white marble, and placed within an arch with pilasters of divers colours, the upper part of which as high as the ceiling is painted by Ricci.

“From hence we pass through a suite of large rooms, into a bedchamber of thirty-four feet by twenty-seven; within it a large closet, that opens into a green-house. On the left hand of the hall are three stone arches supported by three Corinthian pillars, under one of which we go up eight and forty steps, ten feet broad, each step of one entire Portland stone. These stairs by the help of two resting places, are so very easy, there is no need of leaning on the iron baluster. The walls are painted with the story of Dido; whom though the poet was obliged to dispatch away mournfully in order to make room for Lavinia, the better natur’d painter has brought no farther than to that fatal cave, where the lovers appear just entering, and languishing with desire. The roof of this stair-case, which is fifty-five feet from the ground, is forty feet by thirty-six, filled with the figures of Gods and Goddesses. In the midst is Juno, condescending to bed assistance from Venus, to bring about a marriage which the Fates intended should be the ruin of her own darling queen and people. By which that sublime poet intimates, that we should never be over eager for any thing, either in our pursuits, or our prayers; lest what we endeavour or ask too violently for our interest, should be granted us by Providence only in order to our ruin.

“The bas reliefs and all the little squares above are all episodical paintings of the same story: and the largeness of the whole had admitted of a sure remedy against any decay of the colours from salt petre in the wall, by making another of oak laths four inches within it, and so primed over like a picture.

“From a wide landing place on the stairs head, a great double door opens into an apartment of the same dimensions with that below, only three feet higher; notwithstanding which it would appear too low, if the higher saloon had not been divided from it. The first room of this floor has within it a closet of original pictures, which yet are not so entertaining as the delightful prospect from the windows. Out of the second room a pair of great doors give entrance into the saloon, which is thirty-five feet high, thirty-six broad, and forty-five long. In the midst of its roof a round picture of Gentileschi, eighteen feet in diameter, represents the Muses playing in concert to Apollo lying along on a cloud to hear them. The rest of the room is adorned with paintings relating to arts and sciences; and underneath divers original pictures hang all in good lights, by the help of an upper row of windows which drown the glaring.

“Much of this seems appertaining to parade, and therefore I am glad to leave it to describe the rest, which is all for conveniency. As first, a covered passage from the kitchen without doors; and another down to the cellars and all the offices within. Near this, a large and lightsome back stairs leads up to such an entry above, as secures our private bedchambers both from noise and cold. Here we have necessary dressing rooms, servants rooms, and closets, from which are the pleasantest views of all the house, with a little door for communication betwixt this private apartment and the great one.

“These stairs, and those of the same kind at the other end of the house, carry us up to the highest story, fitted for the women and children, with the floors so contrived as to prevent all noise over my wife’s head, during the mysteries of Lucina.

“In mentioning the court at first, I forgot the two wings in it, built on stone arches which join the house by corridores supported by Ionic pillars. In one of these wings is a large kitchen thirty feet high, with an open cupulo on the top; near it a larder, brew-house, and laundry, with rooms over them for servants; the upper sort of servants are lodged in the other wing, which has also two wardrobes and a store-room for fruit. On the top of all a leaden cistern holding fifty tuns of water, driven up by an engine from the Thames, supplies all the water-works[1] in the courts and gardens, which lie quite round the house; through one of which a grass walk conducts to the stables, built round a court, with six coach houses and forty stalls. I will add but one thing before I carry you into the garden, and that is about walking too, but ’tis on the top of all the house; which being covered with smooth milled lead, and defended by a parapet of balusters from all apprehension as well as danger, entertains the eye with a far distant prospect of hills and dales, and a near one of parks and gardens. To these gardens we go down from the house by seven steps, into a gravel walk that reaches cross the garden, with a covered arbour at each end of it. Another of thirty feet broad leads from the front of the house, and lies between two groves of tall lime trees, planted in several equal ranks upon a carpet of grass: the outsides of these groves are bordered with tubs of bays and orange trees. At the end of this broad walk, you go up to a terrace four hundred paces long, with a large semicircle in the middle, from whence is beheld the Queen’s two parks, and a great part of Surry; then going down a few steps, you walk on the bank of a canal six hundred yards long, and seventeen broad, with two rows of limes on each side of it.

“On one side of this terrace, a wall covered with roses and jessamines is made low, to admit the view of a meadow full of cattle just under it, (no disagreeable object in the midst of a great city) and at each end a descent into parterres, with fountains and water-works. From the biggest of these parterres we pass into a little square garden, that has a fountain in the middle, and two green-houses on the sides, with a convenient bathing apartment in one of them; and near another part of it lies a flower garden. Below all this a kitchen garden, full of the best sorts of fruits, has several walks in it fit for the coldest weather.

“Thus I have done with a tedious description; only one thing I forgot, though of more satisfaction to me than all the rest, which I fancy you guess already; and ’tis a little closet of books at the end of that green-house which joins the best apartment, which besides their being so very near, are ranked in such a method, that by its mark a very Irish footman may fetch any book I want. Under the windows of this closet and green-house, is a little wilderness full of blackbirds and nightingales. The trees, tho’ planted by myself, require lopping already, to prevent their hindring the view of that fine canal in the Park.

“After all this, to a friend I’ll expose my weakness, as an instance of the mind’s unquietness under the most pleasing enjoyments. I am oftener missing a pretty gallery in the old house I pulled down, than pleased with a saloon which I built in its stead, though a thousand times better after in all manner of respects.

“And now (_pour fair bonne bouche_, with a grave reflection) it were well for us, if this incapacity of being entirely contented was as sure a proof of our being reserved for happiness in another world, as it is of our frailty and imperfection in this. I confess the divines tell us so, but tho’ I believe a future state more firmly than a great many of them appear to do, by their inordinate desires of the good things in this; yet I own my faith is founded, not on those fallacious arguments of preachers, but on that adorable conjunction of unbounded power and goodness, which certainly must some way recompense hereafter so many thousand of innocent wretches created to be so miserable here.”

Footnote 1:

Considerable alterations have been made in the house since this letter was written. The water-works in particular no longer exist.

BUCKINGHAM _street_, a handsome street, and well inhabited, extends from the Strand to the river Thames, where for the convenience of taking water are built those fine stairs called York stairs. The street is thus called from John Villars Duke of Buckingham. See YORK BUILDINGS, and YORK STAIRS.

BUCKLE _street_, Red Lion street, Whitechapel.

BUCKLERSBURY, Cheapside. Mr. Maitland observes that it is more properly Bucklesbury, as it was originally so named, from a manor and tenements belonging to one Buckles, who dwelt and kept his courts there.

BUCKLER’S _rents_, Rotherhith wall.†

BUCKRIDGE _alley_, George street, Spitalfields.†

BUCKRIDGE _court_, Bembridge street.

BUCK’S HEAD _court_, Great Distaff lane.*

BUCK’S _rents_, Rosemary lane.†

BUDGE _row_, Watling street.

BUFFORD’S _buildings_, St. John street, Smithfield.†

BULL _alley_, 1. Back alley, in Three hammer alley, Tooley street.* 2. Brick lane, Old street.* 3. Broad street, London wall.* 4. Bull stairs, Upper Ground street, Southwark.* 5. Fore street, Lambeth.* 6. Kent street, Southwark.* 7. Nicholas lane, Lombard street.* 8. Turnmill street.* 9. Upper Ground, Southwark.* 10. Whitechapel.*

BULL _bridge_, 1. Horselydown. 2. Limehouse.

BULL _court_, 1. Bishopsgate street.* 2. Nightingale lane.* 3. Petticoat lane.* 4. Ragged row, Goswell street.*

BULL HEAD _alley_, Rag street, Hockley in the Hole.*

BULL HEAD _court_, 1. Broad street, London wall.* 2. Cow lane.* 3. Great Queen street, Drury lane.* 4. Jewin street, Aldersgate street.* 5. Laurence lane.* 6. Newgate street.* 7. Peter street, Cow Cross.* 8. Wood street, Cheapside.*

BULL HEAD _passage_, Gracechurch street.*

BULL HEAD _yard_, near Blackman street, Southwark.*

BULL INN _court_, in the Strand.*

BULL _lane_, Stepney.*

BULL AND MOUTH _street_, St. Martin’s le Grand.*

BULL _stairs_, Bull alley, Upper Ground street, Southwark.*

BULL STAKE _alley_, Whitechapel.*

BULL WHARF, near Brook’s wharf.*

BULL WHARF _lane_, Thames street.*

BULL _yard_, 1. Dunning’s alley, Bishopsgate street without.* 2. Goswell street.* 3. St. John’s street, near Clerkenwell.* 4. Kingsland road, Shoreditch.* 5. Old Horselydown.*

BULLEN’S _rents_, Shoe lane, Fleet street.†

BULLIFORD _court_, Fenchurch street.

BULLOCKS _court_, 1. Chequer alley, Old Bethlem. 2. Minories.

BULLOCK’S _yard_, 1. Shoreditch. 2. Nightingale lane.†

BULL’S _rents_, 1. Freeman’s lane.† 2. Lambeth marsh.†

BULSTRODE, the seat of the Duke of Portland, near Beaconsfield in Buckinghamshire. It is a large handsome house finely situated in a pleasant park, and you have a good view of it from the road to Beaconsfield, which goes close to the park gate.

BUNCH’S _alley_, Thrall street.

BUNHILL _court_, Bunhill fields.

BUNHILL FIELDS, formerly called Bonhill fields, was anciently a tract of ground of considerable extent, reaching from the north side of Chiswell street to Old street.

BUNHILL FIELDS _Burial ground_, a large piece of ground near Upper Moorfields. Maitland says it was formerly called Bonhill, or Goodhill. It was set apart, consecrated and walled at the expence of the city, in 1665, the dreadful year of pestilence, as a common cemetery for the interment of such corps as could not have room in their parochial burial grounds: but it not being used on this occasion, Mr. Tindal took a lease of it, and converted into a burial ground for the use of the dissenters. There are a great number of raised monuments with vaults underneath belonging to particular families, and a multitude of gravestones with inscriptions. The price of opening the ground, or of interment, is 15_s._

BUNHILL FIELDS _School_, was erected by the company of Haberdashers, in the year 1673, pursuant to the gift of Mr. Throgmorton, who endowed it with 80_l._ _per annum_, for the education of thirty poor boys of the parish of St. Giles, Cripplegate.

BUNHILL _row_, near Bunhill fields.

BURDEN’S _street_, David’s street.†

BURGE’S _court_, Wood street, Cheapside.†

BURIAL _yard_, Mill yard, Rosemary lane.

BURLEIGH _court_, Burleigh street.

BURLEIGH _street_, in the Strand, near the house which formerly belonged to the great Lord Treasurer Burleigh.

BURLINGTON _gardens_, a street by Bond street; took its name from its being built on the spot, which was formerly the Earl of Burlington’s garden.

BURLINGTON HOUSE, in Piccadilly. The front of this house, which is of stone, is remarkable for the beauty of the design and workmanship. The print representing the body of the house and a part of the wings, was all that could be taken into the visual angle. The circular colonade of the Doric order which joins the wings, is very noble and striking. The house is hardly grand enough for the colonade, and seems to want something in the center to make the entrance more conspicuous. The house is of an older date than the front, which was built by the late Earl of Burlington. The rooms within are in a fine taste, and the stair-case is painted by Seb. Ricci, with great spirit and freedom.

BURLINGTON _mews_, Great Swallow street.

BURLINGTON _street_, Great Swallow street.

_The Earl of_ BURLINGTON’S seat at Chiswick. See the article CHISWICK.

BURNTWOOD. See BRENTWOOD.

BURR _street_, Lower East Smithfield.

BURTON’S _rents_, Holiwell street.†

BURY _court_, St. Mary Ax.†

BURY _street_, 1. Duke’s place. 2. Piccadilly.

BUSH _alley_, St. Catharine’s lane.

BUSH _lane_, Canon street, Walbrook.

BUSHE’S _rents_, St. John’s court, Cow lane.†

BUSHELL _court_, Lothbury.

BUSHELL’S _rents_, Wapping.†

BUSHY, a small village near Watford in Hertfordshire, adjoining to which is a spacious common, called _Bushy Heath_, extending towards Stanmore, in the county of Middlesex. This heath rises to a considerable height, and from its top affords a most delightful prospect. On the one hand we have a view of St. Alban’s, and of all the space between, which appears like a garden: the inclosed corn fields seem like one grand parterre: the thick planted hedges resemble a wilderness or labyrinth: the villages interspersed thro’ the landscape, appear at a distance like a multitude of gentlemen’s seats. To the south east is seen Westminster Abbey, more to the south appears Hampton Court, and on the south west Windsor Castle, with the Thames winding between both, through the most beautiful parts of Middlesex and Surry, its banks adorned with towns, and a multitude of magnificent seats of the nobility.

BUTCHERHALL _lane_, Newgate street. Formerly a market being kept in Newgate street, the slaughter houses of the butchers were in this lane, when from the nastiness of the place it was called stinking lane: but the market being removed after the fire, and this lane rebuilt, here the company of butchers had their hall, whence it took its name.

BUTCHER _row_, 1. East Smithfield. 2. Ratcliff cross. 3. Without Temple Bar.

BUTCHERS, a fraternity that seems to have been very ancient, since they were fined by Henry II. in the year 1180, as an _adulterine_ guild, for being set up without the King’s licence; though they were not incorporated till the year 1605. This company consists of a Master, five Wardens, twenty-one Assistants, and two hundred and fourteen Liverymen, who pay a fine of 2_l._ each upon their admission into the livery. They have a neat and convenient hall in Pudding lane, in which are three handsome rooms neatly wainscoted and adorned with fretwork.

BUTCHER’S _alley_, 1. Cable street. 2. St. John street, West Smithfield. 3. Windmill hill, Moorfields.

BUTCHERS ARMS _yard_, Goswell street.*

BUTCHER’S _close_, King street, Moorfields.

BUTCHER’S _dock_, Rotherhith wall†

BUTCHER’S _yard_, Brick lane.

BUTLER’S _alley_, 1. Grub street, Cripplegate.† 2. Windmill hill row.†

BUTLER’S _Almshouse_, in Little Chapel street, Westminster, was founded by Mr. Nicholas Butler, in the year 1675, who endowed it with 12_l._ _per annum_. It consists of only two large rooms, for two poor men and their wives.

BUTLER’S _court_, Houndsditch.†

BUTLER’S _yard_, Monkwell street.†

BUTTERFLY _court_, Grub street, Cripplegate.*

BUTTERMILK _alley_, Phenix street, Spitalfields.

BUTT’S _street_, Lambeth.†

BUTTONMOULD _row_, Dean’s court, St. Martin’s le Grand.

BYAS _rents_, Crucifix lane.

BYFIELD’S _passage_, Petticoat lane.†

BYFIELD’S _rents_, Petticoat lane.†

BYFLEET, a village in Surry, situated on a branch of the river Mole, adorned with several gentlemen’s seats, and a fine park in its neighbourhood. At this place is a handsome house belonging to Lieut. Gen. Cornwall; and at a place at a small distance the Rev. Mr. Spence has made many neat and elegant improvements. The river Mole flows by the side of Byfleet park, and forming a great number of windings, renders its course near four miles within the compass of the inclosure.

C.

CABBAGE _alley_, 1. Barnaby street. 2. Long lane, Southwark.

CABBAGE _lane_, near King’s Arms stairs.

CABBAGE _yard_, Cork lane, Swan fields.

CABINET _court_, Duke street, Spitalfields.

CABLE _court_, Cable street.

CABLE _street_, Rag fair.

CADD’S _row_, Islington.†

CÆSAR’S HEAD _court_, Crutched Friars.*

CAGE _alley_, Cock hill, Ratcliff.

CAIN AND ABEL’S _alley_, 1. Angel alley, Houndsditch.* 2. Bishopsgate street without.*

CALENDER’S _court_, 1. Drury lane. 2. Long alley, Moorfields.

CAMBERWELL, a pleasant village in Surry, two miles from Southwark, in the road to Croydon.

CAMBERWELL _road_, Newington butts.

CAMBRAY _house_. See CANONBURY _House_.

CAMBRIDGE _heath_, in Middlesex near Hackney.

CAMBRIDGE _street_, Broad street, Poland street.

CAMDEN _court_, Clerkenwell.

CAMDEN _house_, in Middlesex, a little to the west of Kensington palace, was lately the seat and manor of the Earl of Warwick, but it now belongs to Henry Fox, Esq.

CAMEL _row_, Mile end.

CAMOMILE _court_, Camomile street.

CAMOMILE _street_, Bishopsgate street.

CAMPION _lane_, Allhallows, Thames street.†

CAMPION’S _alley_, Market street, Westminster.†