ester Fields, subsequently known as Leicester
Square, behind which stretched a goodly common; Goring House, "a very
pretty villa furnished with silver jars, vases, cabinets, and other
rich furniture, even to wantonnesse and profusion," on the site of which
Burlington Street now stands; Clarendon House, a princely residence,
combining "state, use, solidity, and beauty," surrounded by fair
gardens, that presently gave place to Bond Street; Southampton House,
standing, as Evelyn says, in "a noble piazza--a little town," now known
as Bloomsbury Square, whose pleasant grounds commanded a full view of
the rising hills of Hampstead and Highgate; and Montagu House, described
as a palace built in the French fashion, standing on the ground now
occupied by the British Museum, which in this reign was backed by lonely
fields, the dread scenes of "robbery, murder, and every species of
depravity and wickedness of which the heart can think."

Besides the grounds and gardens surrounding these stately mansions, a
further aspect of space and freshness was added to the capital by
public parks. Foremost amongst these was St. James's, to which the merry
monarch added several fields, and for its greater advantage employed
Monsieur La Notre, the famous French landscape-gardener. Amongst the
improvements this ingenious man effected were planting trees of stately
height, contriving a canal one hundred feet broad and two hundred and
eighty feet long, with a decoy and duck island, [The goodnatured Charles
made Monsieur St. Evremond governor of Duck Island, to which position he
attached a salary much appreciated by the exile. The island was removed
in 1790 to make room for fresh improvements.] and making a pleasant
pathway bordered by an aviary on either side, usually called Bird Cage
Walk. An enclosure for deer was formed in the centre of the park; not
far removed was the famous Physic Garden, where oranges were first seen
in England; and at the western end, where Buckingham Palace has been
erected, stood Arlington House, described as "a most neat box, and
sweetly seated amongst gardens, enjoying the prospect of the park and
the adjoining fields."

The great attraction of St. James's Park was the Mall, which Monsieur
Sorbiere tells us was a walk "eight hundred and fifty paces in length,
beset with rows of large trees, and near a small wood, from whence you
may see a fine mead, a long canal, Westminster Abbey, and the suburbs,
which afford an admi