In 1841, the author of _Pelham_ lived in Charles-street,
Berkeley-square, in a small house, which he fitted up after his own
taste; and an odd _melée_ of the classic and the baronial certain of the
rooms presented. One of the drawing-rooms, we remember, was in the
Elizabethan style, with an imitative oak ceiling, bristled with
pendents; and this room opened into another apartment, a fac-simile of a
chamber which Bulwer had visited at Pompeii, with vases, candelabra, and
other furniture to correspond.
James Smith has left a few notes of his visit here: “Our host,” he says,
“lighted a perfumed pastile, modelled from Vesuvius. As soon as the cone
of the mountain began to blaze, I found myself an inhabitant of the
devoted city; and, as Pliny the elder, thus addressed Bulwer, my
supposed nephew:--‘Our fate is accomplished, nephew! Hand me yonder
volume! I shall die as a student in my vocation. Do thou hasten to take
refuge on board the fleet at Misenum. Yonder cloud of hot ashes chides
thy longer delay. Feel no alarm for me; I shall live in story. The
author of _Pelham_ will rescue my name from oblivion.’ Pliny the younger
made me a low bow, &c.” We strongly suspect James of quizzing “our
host.” He noted, by the way, in the chamber were the busts of Hebe,
Laura, Petrarch, Dante, and other worthies; Laura like our Queen.