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ham might be saved annually. Soyer was certainly

the prince of cooks!

Afterwards Gore House' was turned into a Cabinet Exhibition, and has now shared the fate of all old houses, and vanished off the face of the earth. We are glad to hear that the trees are, as far as possible, to remain undisturbed; and we would ask our readers the next time they visit the Albert Hall, just to give a glance towards the spot where the old house stood. The memories it suggests if somewhat sad will probably do us good; and, at all events, we hope may help to pass an otherwise idle ten minutes.

143

CHAPTER VII.

KENSINGTON HOUSE AND KENSINGTON SQUARE. Kensington House and its Inhabitants-Colby House -The Beauties, Poets, Prelates and Statesmen of Kensington Square-Thackeray's Esmond-Origin of Edwardes Square.

WE had not long left Gore House and were walking along quickly, with a mind full of the sad story of Margaret Gardiner, of the frivolities of Count D'Orsay, the narrow-mindedness of Wilberforce, and the culinary talent of Soyer, when the heavy thud of the mason's hammer, and the chip, chip of the cold chisel fell on our ears, and, looking up, we beheld the evil fairybricks-and-mortar-hard at work again. Having knocked down poor old Kensington and Colby Houses, she was now engaged in rearing on their site a structure, so stupendous and palatial, as almost to make us forget that she was an evil fairy at all.

Yes; the two old houses were gone; scarce anything remained of them but a part of the wall; and we feel it but right to pause in our wanderings and sing a pæan over their departed glories, before the great, new mansion should have completely crushed all vestiges of its predecessors under its heel. There was a great deal of historic moss that used to cluster over the two old dwellings; and it is pleasant to remember that historic moss will continue green, long after the buildings which have given birth to it have rotted away. The shadows of the beautiful Duchess who lived at Kensington House in the reign of George the First, of her neighbour-the old miser at Colby House, of the worthy pedagogue, friend of the great lexicographer, of the unfortunate heir to the crown of France, and of the talented novelist and authoress, will flit about the old spot for many a year to come, until the new house has grown old and has historical memories of its own.

The beautiful Duchess was Louise de Querouaille, mistress of Charles the Second, around whom, notwithstanding her baby face and luxurious beauty, hang many dark state secrets. Louis the Fourteenth

and our merry monarch had entered into a bargain. Charles sold himself, his religion, and his country to Louis; and Louis agreed to pay Charles an annual salary. England was to become Roman Catholic and aid the French king in subduing the Protestant Dutch; and the Grand Monarque was to pay the money regularly, and send over French soldiers in case any Englishmen were stupid enough to object to the arrangement. Louis evidently thought he had the best of the bargain, and he actually threw in a French mistress, gratis, so that Charles might not repent, and think the terms too hard. This French beauty was Louise de Querouaille. She did not live in Kensington House then. It does not, in fact, appear to have been built till the time of William the Third. But when Charles was dead, and his brother had been driven from the English throne for attempting to carry out similar propositions to those contained in the French compact, Madame Louise, now Duchess of Portsmouth, paid occasional visits to this country, and, in the reign of George the First, actually put in a claim for a pension from the English GovernThe old miser, Sir Thomas Colby, may have

ment.

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been her neighbour, for Colby House was built in 1720. How Sir Thomas must have glared at the pretty baby-face looking out of the neighbouring window, as he thought of any of his much coveted money, which he had been obliged to part with in the shape of taxes, being bestowed on her. Colby died in a very characteristic manner. In the middle of one night the baronet recollected that he had left the keys of the wine cellar on the table. Visions of his servants running off with a bottle of his port wine rose before his eyes, and he was not satisfied until he had gone down stairs and returned with the key in safety. But he was unwell at the time and the exposure to the night air caused his death. He died without a will, and his large fortune, over two hundred thousand pounds, was shared among his nearest relations, who were day labourers. But to return to Kensington House. In Dr. Johnson's time it was inhabited by his friend, the worthy old schoolmaster, James Elphinstone. Johnson seems to have been there pretty often himself, and some of his fierce bearish retorts, recorded by Boswell, were uttered there. Elphinstone was successful in his school, but

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