Vigo Street, which connects Burlington Gardens with Regent Street, takes its name from the sea-fight which occurred at Vigo Bay in 1702. It was formerly known as Vigo Lane, which title was originally applied to that portion of the thoroughfare now known as Burlington Gardens, as well. The change seems to have taken place subsequently to the formation of Regent Street. [Sidenote: CLIFFORD STREET.] A few steps further up Bond Street, we come to Clifford Street, where Dr. Addington, the father of Lord Sidmouth, lived, at No. 7. Lord Sidmouth himself, who was, in consequence of his father’s profession and also because he once prescribed a soporific for George III., known as “the Doctor,” also dwelt here, and was, at least on two occasions, visited here by Lord Nelson. Bishop Hurd, known both ecclesiastically and also for his edition of Horace, also once resided close by, at No. 5; and Sir Arthur Wellesley was staying at No. 14, in 1806; while the Prince of Orange, who came to this country with the object of becoming engaged to the Princess Charlotte--an object frustrated by the Grand Duchess of Oldenburg, as well as by the Princess’s almost open repugnance to the not very prepossessing gentleman himself--lodged at his tailor’s, at No. 8. The street also once had its particular Coffee-house (as what street in London in those days had not?), known as the “Clifford Street Coffee-house,” which is chiefly interesting from the fact that the “Debating Club,” of which “Conversation” Sharp and Lord Charles Townshend were shining lights, once had its headquarters here. [Sidenote: SAVILE ROW.] Clifford Street leads into Savile Row, named after Dorothy, the heiress of Savile, Marquis of Halifax, and wife of the architect Earl of Burlington. Here Lady Suffolk, Queen Caroline’s “good Howard,” and most respectable of Royal mistresses, lived, in a house she had purchased for £3,000, in 1735. William Pitt and his brother were also residing in Savile Row in 1781, and here died, under the pathetic circumstances known to all the world, Richard Brinsley Sheridan, at No. 17, whence he wrote to Rogers that agonizing letter for assistance to prevent the bailiffs “putting the carpets out of window,” as the dying man phrased it. A tablet indicates the last home of “Sherry,” who had enlivened a generation with his wit and astonished it by his surprising gifts. Among other residents at a later date, at No. 20, was Bobus Smith, the brother of Sydney; and Grote, the historian of Greece, who died, at No. 12, on June 18th, 1871. Here Mrs. Grote gave those musical receptions at which the voice of Jenny Lind and the recitals of Chopin and Thalberg were to be heard. A memorial tablet now indicates Grote’s residence here. Sir Benjamin Brodie, the great surgeon, was at one time living at No. 16, Savile Row, and Tierney, the politician, drew his last breath at No. 11, in 1830. [Sidenote: CORK STREET.]