The triumph of greed and barbarism
Gavin Stamp
PRIVATE PALACES: LIFE IN THE GREAT LONDON HOUSES by Christopher Simon Sykes
Chatto & Windus, £15.95
LONDON'S MANSIONS: THE PALATIAL HOUSES OF THE NOBILITY by David Pearce
Batsford,
In 1908, the antiquarian and topog- rapher, E. Beresford Chancellor, pub- lished a book called The Private Palaces of London which described a phenomenon which is now extinct. 'If we sought for one particular feature distinguishing London from the other capitals of Europe, apart from its immense proportions,' he began, it would probably be found in the number of its large houses many of which are indeed the private palaces that I have here called them.' And, furthermore, 'nearly every one of them contains such a wealth of beautiful objects — pictures, furniture, china, and a thousand and one objets d'art — that they may defy comparison with the chateaux of France, and even with Vene- tian palazzi in the days of their prosperity.'
But Chancellor was aware that the fu- ture of these great houses was not secure: `Some we know are held on leasehold tenure, and when their term has run, may be ruthlessly demolished; others stand proudly in the midst of ever-changing conditions of building development; will they be, in their turn, attacked, and if so what then?' Some were already going — two in Pall Mall came down to make way for the big, vulgar RAC as Chancellor was writing — but he could not have foreseen the holocaust of his subject matter which came after the Great War.
Devonshire House, by William Kent, was torn down in 1924, its treasures having gone to Chatsworth; Chesterfield House, the glorious mansion built by Isaac Ware for the fourth Earl, was demolished in 1937, to be followed a year later by Norfolk House in St James's Square, after its sale — to the dismay of the Dowager Duchess — to Mr Rudolph Palumbo. Lansdowne House suffered a fate worse than death: while its gardens south of Berkeley Square were built over, Robert Adam's façade was rebuilt in mutilated form some 40 feet back to make way for a new road. The saddest story is that of Dorchester House, a quite magnificent palazzo which was demolished in 1929 to make way for the hotel despite Lady Beecham's valiant efforts to buy it as a national centre for opera and Shakespeare. In a terrible sale, the sculptured chimney- pieces by Alfred Stevens, on which the collector, R. S. Holford, had expended thousands of pounds, were knocked down for a few hundred.
In the absence of protective legislation, greed and barbarism triumphed to a quite astonishing extent. A significant aspect of London was largely extinguished. What is also strange is how little these lost houses have engaged the attention of architectural historians, even though they exemplified the talents of great architects like Cham- bers and Soane. Perhaps it is because the best have gone; perhaps because the survi- vors are in institutional use and do not have the glamour of country houses. But now this neglect is remedied and because, as so often happens, great minds think alike, we have not one but two books on the subject.
Both books cover the same ground, discussing both the architectural history of the house and the social life for which they were built. Both deal with the early history of the subject, investigating long lost houses like Montagu House — replaced by the British Museum — and wonderful Northumberland House — wickedly des- troyed after compulsory purchase in 1874 by the Metropolitan Board of Works to create hideous Northumberland Avenue; the great lead lion which overlooked Char- ing Cross going to Syon. Both books inevitably concentrate on the great man- sions of the 18th century, built for show and for pleasure, and which are poignantly evoked by a great wealth of old photo- graphs, drawings and other documents.
Each book has its own strengths. Christ- opher Simon Sykes, as one might expect, is splendid in describing the life which went on in these houses during the Season, and makes good use of contemporary anecdote and description. He brings the story right up to 1962, when a last party was thrown in Londonderry House: `. . . in the latter half of the evening the stage was taken by an unknown singer called Mick Jagger. "We wanted to give the old house a wake," said Lady Londonderry the following day. "It was a wonderful, gay night, but for us sad too. I am sure that once the house is auctioned it will be pulled down." ' Of course it was — the Hilton was already up next door and Harold Macmillan was Prime Minister.
David Pearce — ironically a former secretary of the Society for the Protection of Ancient Buildings, whose inadequate defence of the great 18th-century houses led to the founding of the Georgian Group in 1937 — casts a slightly wider net and discusses a remarkable and confusing range of forgotten houses — confusing because they kept changing their names, (like York / Stafford / Lancaster House: happily still with us). Both books are very well illustrated and are quite indispensible additions to any architectural library.
I hope that the publication of these books will focus attention on the former private palaces which survive. The Iron Duke's Apsley House is, of course, a museum. Lancaster House ought occas- sionally also to be open to the public but the government keeps its splendours to itself. Over the road, Barry's Bridgewater House is in commercial use, as is Adam's Wynn House in St James's Square. Crewe House in Curzon Street will be the Saudi Arabian Embassy. William Kent's Wim- borne House behind the Ritz has recently been restored by Eagle Star Insurance. It needs to be used for pleasure again, as is Kent's little masterpiece in Berkeley Square, now the Clermont Club, where the likes of our 'High Life' correspondent disport themselves.
Thanks to the late Lord Spencer, who could easily have sold up, the finest survi- vor is Spencer House. It was, until recent- ly, occupied by the Economist. It then could have been, should have been, taken by the National Trust as its headquaters instead of the second-rate pile of Edwar- dian baroque by Runtz it occupied instead in Queen Anne's Gate. Now Mr Jacob Rothschild has taken on Spencer House as his headquarters. The rooms by Vardy and `Athenian' Stuart are to be restored to their former glory and used for . . . what? Perhaps the 'private palace' is, not extinct after all.
Previous page
