Considerable additions were made to the royal residence at Sheen by Richard's orders, and the superintendence of the works was entrusted to the poet, Geoffrey Chaucer, who had been held in high esteem by Edward III., that monarch having granted him a pension in 1367, calling him in the deed of gift 'our beloved yeoman.' Chaucer became deeply attached to Sheen, but his connection with it was not a long one, for he presently fell into disgrace with his employer, who took away all his official appointments, and though later he was to some extent restored to favour, the king's love for his riverside home had by that time been turned to hatred. In 1394 Queen Anne died at Sheen, and so great was the grief of her husband, who, for all that, soon married again, that he ordered the palace to be razed to the ground immediately after the funeral, a grand and imposing ceremony in which all the chief nobles of England took part. Fortunately the royal commands were not fully carried out, for much of the interesting old building was left standing, and although it was neglected throughout the remainder of the reign of Richard II., it was sufficiently habitable in that of Henry IV. to be used as a residence by his son, the Prince of Wales. Indeed Henry V. was from the first very fond of Sheen, and soon after his succession to the throne he restored and added to the palace, converting it into what his biographer, Thomas Elmham, called 'a delightful mansion of curious and costly workmanship befitting the character and condition of a king.' Henry VI., who was but nine months old when his father died, may possibly have been at Sheen as a child, but the first well-authenticated visit paid by him to the palace was in 1441, when he issued a warrant from it to the sheriffs of the counties through which his aunt, Eleanor, Duchess of Gloucester, whose husband had been Protector of England during his minority, was expected to pass, giving instructions for her reception. In 1445, the year of Henry's marriage to Margaret of Anjou, Sheen Palace was the scene of many a costly festivity, and ten years later it was to it that the unfortunate monarch was taken when his constitutional weakness had developed into positive insanity. Thence, after his recovery, he went forth to the fatal battle of St. Albans, at which he was defeated and taken prisoner by the Yorkists, and there he returned in 1456, when his mind was again unhinged, whilst his wife, with her beloved son, withdrew to Chester. Once more restored to mental health, Henry made a gallant effort to regain the reins of power, but he never again was king in anything but name, his palace at Sheen knew him no more, but before his tragic death in the Tower in 1471 it was twice tenanted by his hated rival Edward IV. The latter was there for a short time in the first year of his reign, and in 1465 he held a brilliant court in the palace, hoping by his lavish hospitality to reconcile the nobles to his secret marriage with Elizabeth Woodville, the discovery of which so alienated the kingmaker, the mighty Earl of Warwick, that he reverted to the Lancastrian side. At Sheen the queen's relations were very much in evidence, and it is said to have been there that her ladies paid her brother, Anthony Woodville, the compliment of presenting him with a golden garter embroidered with forget-me-nots. In 1467 the king gave the Sheen Palace to his wife, and she often resided in it during her husband's lifetime, possibly also occasionally in the brief reign of Richard III., and she probably hoped, after the murder of her sons, to be allowed to spend her remaining years there, especially as the new king was her son-in-law, but in this she was disappointed. Henry VII. liked the riverside home too much himself, and he lost no time in confiscating it, ordering the widowed queen to retire to a convent at Bermondsey, where she died not long afterwards. Richmond Now began a new era of glory for Sheen, the name of which the king changed to Richmond, he having been Earl of Richmond in Yorkshire before he was called to the English throne. What had hitherto been really more like a fortress than a palace was greatly enlarged, the moat which had surrounded it was filled in to make room for the various extensions, and the new buildings were lavishly decorated. When the insurrection headed by Lambert Simnel, the son of an Oxford carpenter, who claimed to be the heir of the murdered Duke of Clarence, broke out in Ireland in 1487, Henry called a council of war together at Richmond, and the following year the Princess Anne of York, fifth daughter of Edward IV., was the guest of the king in the palace. In 1492, after the termination of the war with France, a grand tournament was held partly in the grounds of the royal residence and partly on the green between it and the river, 'in the which space,' says the chronicler John Stow, writing about a century later, 'a combat was holden and doone betwixt Sir James Parker, knight, and Hugh Vaughan, gentleman usher, upon controversie for the arms that garter gave to the sayde Henry Vaughan ... and Sir James was killed incontinently at the first course, in consequence,' in the writer's opinion, 'of his having worn a false helmet,' an incident proving how real were the dangers attending the warlike pageants in which the Tudor sovereigns so greatly delighted.
In 1497 or 1498 a serious fire broke out in Richmond Palace, and the greater part of the older portion of the building was destroyed, but the king at once set a whole army of workmen to repair the mischief, and in 1501 he was back again in his favourite residence. There, in the early autumn of that year, took place the betrothal of his eldest son, Prince Arthur, with the daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella, Katharine of Aragon, and there, too, in January 1502, was signed the contract of marriage between the Princess Margaret of England and James IV. of Scotland that eventually resulted in the union of the two countries. Prince Arthur died five months after the wedding, and the king with unexpected generosity gave up the Richmond Palace to his widowed daughter-in-law, who, on June 25, 1503, was affianced to his second son, Henry, heir-apparent of the English throne, who was then only eleven years old. Henry VII. appears to have taken possession of the palace again very soon, for in 1503 he received in it Philip I. of Spain, who had been shipwrecked off the coast of England, holding great festivities in his honour. In 1506 another fire occurred, breaking out this time in the king's own bedroom, and he narrowly escaped a serious accident, for a gallery through which he had passed with the young Prince Henry collapsed just as he was leaving it. In this case, fortunately, the damage done was slight, and Henry spent much of the remainder of his life at Richmond, where he died in 1509, leaving behind him, it is said, a vast accumulation of treasure hidden away in secret chambers and cellars. After solemn services had been held in the private chapel of the palace, the body was taken by road with great pomp to be laid to rest in the beautiful but still unfinished chapel in Westminster Abbey, on which the king had spent fabulous sums during his lifetime, and for the completion of which he left £1000 in his will that he made at Richmond three weeks before his death.
Henry VIII. seems to have been at first as much attached to the Richmond Palace as his father had been. He spent the first Christmas after his accession there, and it was in it, on New Year's Day 1511, that his wife, Katharine of Aragon, gave birth to a son, whose advent was celebrated throughout the kingdom with extraordinary rejoicings. The infant on whom so much depended lived, however, but for six weeks, and his father is said to have looked upon his untimely death as a judgment on himself for having married his brother's widow. After the tragic event the king paid but a few short visits to Richmond, lending the palace there between whiles to distinguished guests, amongst whom was the Emperor Charles V. of Germany, who had come to England, in 1533, for his betrothal to the Princess Mary, then only four years old. That same year Henry leased the Richmond estate to Massey Villiard and Thomas Brampton for a term of thirty years at an annual rental of £25, 8s., but he evidently considered it still his own private property, for he made use of the palace whenever it suited his convenience. In 1526, for instance, when he had compelled Wolsey to give up to him the newly completed mansion at Hampton Court, he told the chagrined donor that he could live in his house at Richmond instead, a privilege of which the cardinal availed himself but seldom, so great was his unpopularity in the neighbourhood, the common people, especially those who had been in the service of Henry VII., bitterly resenting that what they irreverently called 'a bocher's dogge should be in the royall manor of Richmond.' For all that, however, Wolsey received Henry VIII. as his guest in it in 1528, when the feast of the patron-saint of England was celebrated with great solemnity in the chapel, all the companions of the Order of the Garter having been present. After his final disgrace the broken-hearted minister paid a last visit to Richmond, taking up his abode on his arrival as usual at the palace, but he soon received a peremptory message from his angry master telling him to withdraw to the Lodge in the Old Deer Park, the history of which is related below.
In 1535 Anne Boleyn, whose doom was already practically sealed, was for a short time at Richmond Palace, and, according to some authorities, it was in a house near by, then owned by Sir George and Lady Carew, that her successor in the king's affection, Jane Seymour, awaited, on the fatal 19th of May 1536, the arrival of her royal lover, to whom she had been married the day before.
THE OLD PALACE, RICHMOND
THE OLD PALACE, RICHMOND
It was at Richmond that Anne of Cleves resided whilst the negotiations were proceeding for her divorce from the fickle king, and when they were concluded Henry, in his relief at getting rid of the 'Dutch cow,' as he irreverently called her, gave her the estate for her life. She became much attached to the palace, and the story goes that the once hated wife several times entertained the king in it with such charming hospitality that he nearly fell in love with her. There was even at one time a rumour that she had become the mother of a son whose father was her divorced husband, and it was not until some of the scandalmongers had been publicly tried and severely punished that gossiping tongues ceased to wag on the subject. That Anne did cherish a hope, when Catherine Howard's influence was waning, of regaining her position as queen appears certain, but she had the sense soon to recognise that she had no chance of success, and she lived quietly on in her luxurious home until the death of Henry, when she had to resign it to Edward VI. The latter preferred Richmond Palace to any of his other residences, and spent as much of his time there as his physicians would allow; but they considered Hampton Court healthier, and insisted on his removal there when his health began to fail. It was at Richmond that took place, in the young king's presence, in the summer of 1550—some say in his private chapel, others in that of the neighbouring Carthusian monastery of Jesus of Bethlehem, of which an account is given below—the marriage of Lord Lisle to Lady Anne Seymour and that of Robert Dudley, later Earl of Leicester, to the ill-fated Amy Robsart, who was to pay so dearly for standing in the way of her husband's courtship of Queen Elizabeth. That same year Edward VI. received in the great hall of the palace the French ambassador, Marshal St. André, who had come from France to invest him with the order of St. Michael, on which occasion the courtly manners and generosity of the king completely won the hearts of all his guests.
Queen Mary was at the palace in 1553, and there received the news of the rebellion headed by Wyatt, which caused her to hasten to London, where her prompt action saved the situation. She returned to Richmond in triumph, and summoned her council to meet her there to discuss the arrangements for her marriage with Philip II. of Spain, on which she was determined in spite of the opposition of her subjects. Her happiest days were spent in the old palace on the green before she realised how vain were her hopes of winning her husband's affections and becoming the mother of an heir to the throne; but after her husband's return to Spain she took a dislike to Richmond. When the Princess Elizabeth was suspected of a plot against her sister's life she was sent from her prison in the Tower to Richmond Palace under the care of the stern Sir Henry Bedingfield, and she was so much pleased with her new place of confinement that she begged to be allowed to remain there. It was whilst she was at Richmond that she was offered a free pardon if she would renounce her claim to the throne and marry the Duke of Suffolk, but she firmly refused, and was therefore removed to Woodstock, where she was kept in close confinement, only escaping condemnation to death by pretending that she had been converted to Roman Catholicism. Later, when Mary's fears of her sister's disloyalty were allayed, and her beloved Philip was once more with her, a grand entertainment was given at Richmond, at which Elizabeth was present, and in the summer of 1558 the queen paid her last visit to the palace, contracting there, it was said, the chill which caused her death, though, as a matter of fact, she had long been in a critical condition of health.
With the accession of Elizabeth a fresh era of prosperity began for Richmond, which was one of the new queen's favourite places of residence, and to which she often went by water, her magnificent state barge escorted by a whole fleet of richly decorated boats bearing her retinue. In Richmond Palace Elizabeth received many of the suitors for her hand, including the young Eric IV., King of Sweden, whom she admitted to some little intimacy, even introducing him to her favourite astrologer, Dr. Dee of Mortlake, though she never had the slightest intention of accepting him; and there, too, she carried on a simultaneous flirtation with the Earls of Leicester and Essex, to the latter of whom she seems to have been really deeply attached. Even after both had passed away she kept up the old traditions, making a gallant attempt to hide the fact that her heart was broken, for she wrote love-letters, some of them from Richmond, to the young Lord Mountjoy; and on one occasion is said to have rewarded a commoner, Mr. William Sydney, with a kiss as a reward for his sprightly dancing of a coranto in her presence in the great hall of the palace. To the last Elizabeth loved her Richmond home; and it was in its chapel that she listened, not long before her death, to a sermon from Dr. Rudd, Bishop of St. David's, on the realistic description of old age in the 12th chapter of Ecclesiastes, remaining, it is related, apparently unmoved even when the preacher, with extraordinary want of tact, referred to her own wrinkles as an example of the ravages of time. The discourse over, however, the queen rose, opened a window with her own hands as if to mark her displeasure, and turning to the doctor told him he could in future keep his disparaging observations to himself, adding, 'I see that some wise men are as big fools as the rest.'
According to some authorities it was at Richmond that the aged sovereign received the news that her beloved Earl of Essex had been executed, a tragedy she had hoped to have prevented, though she had signed his death-warrant, by her promise that she would pardon him at the last moment, however great his crime, if he sent back to her a ring she had given him. Unfortunately there is no reliable historical proof of the truth of the touching story that he did entrust the ring to be given to the queen to the Countess of Nottingham, who kept it back, only confessing the truth on her death-bed to Elizabeth, who shook her violently, declaring that God might forgive her, though she never would; but there is no doubt that the tragic end of the earl hastened her own death. She knew full well that she was doomed soon to follow her favourite to the grave, and often made covert allusions to her conviction, as when she said to Lord Howard, 'I am tied with a chain of iron round my neck, all is changed with me now.' The last few months of her life were spent at Richmond, and she passed peacefully away, after declaring she had no wish to live longer, on March 24, 1603, according to tradition, for which there seems, however, to be no convincing evidence, in a small room still in existence above one of the entrance-gates of the palace. Her body was taken down the river to Whitehall in the very barge she had so often used in life, and never again was Richmond the scene of a great historic pageant. James I. cared little for his property there, and gave it to his eldest son, Henry, of whom, as is well known, he was extremely jealous, preferring that he should not reside at court.
Prince Henry lived much at Richmond, receiving there, in 1606, the French and Spanish ambassadors, who were both eager to secure for their respective sovereigns an alliance with him, and during the last few years of his life he began to form the famous collection of pictures which is still, after going through many vicissitudes, one of the most valued possessions of the English royal family. He was resident at the palace during the whole of the summer before his untimely death, which took place at St. James's Palace in 1612, and was, according to his doctors, the result of over-indulgence in bathing in the Thames. He was deeply mourned by the people of Richmond, with whom he was extremely popular, on account of his genial unassuming manners. He left his pictures to his brother Charles, to whom the Richmond estate was transferred by their father in 1617. The new owner was often at the palace before his accession to the throne, constantly adding to the art treasures in it, and his beloved Steenie was often his guest there. It was from it that the two inseparable friends started in 1623 on their wild expedition to Spain, Charles intending to woo the Infanta incognito before committing himself to an engagement. Two months after Charles became king he was welcoming a very different bride, Henrietta Maria of France, on whom he bestowed the Richmond Palace as part of her marriage portion; and although they both preferred Whitehall and Buckingham Palace, the young couple were several times in residence there before their troubles began. The Richmond home was also turned to account as a place of education for their children, the princesses Elizabeth, Mary, and Anne were there for some years under the care of the Countess of Roxburgh, and there Anne died in 1640, from what her doctor called a 'suffocating cataar.' A year later her brother Charles was sent to Richmond with his tutor, Bishop Duppa, by the Parliament that was already at daggers drawn with his father, and there he enjoyed a time of comparative security and happiness before he became involved in the doom that overtook his parents, and started on his weary wanderings as the disinherited heir of a murdered father. During the four years' Civil War Richmond Palace was practically deserted, and in 1647 the pictures in it were taken down, those likely to spread papal doctrines being burned, and the others dispersed. In 1649 a survey of the property was made by order of Cromwell, when its value was assessed at £10,782, 10s. 2d., and shortly afterwards it was sold to aid in raising money to pay the arrears due to the soldiers of the Parliamentary army. The greater part of the historic building was pulled down, and in 1650 what was left of it was bought by Sir Gregory Norton, who had been one of the king's judges, and had signed the warrant for his execution. According to some authorities Sir Gregory resided in the dismantled mansion until his death, which took place in 1652, whilst others assert that he was turned out of it at the Restoration, when he narrowly escaped sharing the fate of the other regicides. However that may be, the palace, hallowed by so many memories, was certainly occupied for a short time by the widowed queen Henrietta Maria, who actually received in it, as her guest, the notorious Lady Castlemaine, one of Charles II.'s many mistresses, who had left him in a fit of temper at a moment's notice. The story goes that the king joined her at Richmond the next morning, in the hope of patching up a reconciliation, when he probably had a stormy interview with his mother, who must indeed have mourned over his many iniquities, and wondered that all his troubles should have taught him so little.
The Queen Dowager left Richmond for France, never to return, in 1665, giving over the palace to Sir Edward Villiers, who two years later either lent or rented it to a relative of his, Lady Frances Villiers, who had charge of the three young children of the Duke of York, the future James II., two of whom, the Dukes of Kendal and Cambridge, died in 1667. On the accession of James II., Richmond Palace was given back to the Crown, but the new king never lived in it, though he sent his infant son, who was to have such a melancholy career as the Pretender, to be cared for there. The child, who was so delicate that he had not been expected to live, throve in his new surroundings, and was taken back to Windsor in time to share his parents' flight on the landing of the Prince of Orange. After the new revolution the royal demesne at Richmond was long deserted, William III. and his consort having paid only flying visits to it. The Princess Anne, daughter of James II. by his first wife, who had been very happy there with her little brothers before their untimely death, begged hard to be allowed to live in it, but permission was refused, and it was not until the accession of George II. that it was again used as a royal residence. The palace was given by him to his wife, Queen Caroline, who built for the accommodation of the ladies of her court the four substantial mansions on the west side of the green that are still known as Maids of Honour Row. In 1770 Richmond Palace was for a few months the home of Queen Charlotte, who, as already stated in connection with Kew, had a great love for the whole neighbourhood. Since then, unfortunately, further portions of the grand old mansion, that at one time with its dependencies occupied ten and a half acres of ground, have been pulled down, and all that is now left are the entrance gateway—on which, carved in stone, is the coat of arms of Henry VII.—of what is still known as the Wardrobe Court, and a portion of the buildings that once surrounded the latter, which are leased by the Crown to different tenants, and still bear witness with their ornate internal decoration, their quaint nooks and corners, and their secret passages, to the good old days gone by, when they were but a small part of a stately palace, capable of accommodating hundreds of distinguished guests, that was the scene of many a courtly pageant and many an exciting intrigue.
In addition to the many interesting historic memories connected with its palace, Richmond has associations with a number of important religious houses, of which, unfortunately, no actual trace now remains, though their names are preserved in those of certain modern roads.
Henry V., soon after his accession, founded in the Old Deer Park, near the site of the present Observatory of Kew, a Carthusian monastery, which he called the House of Jesus of Bethlehem, one of several endowed by him in expiation for his father's usurpation of the throne, which may possibly have been in Shakespeare's mind when in his Henry V. he made that monarch say, 'And I have built two chantries where the sad and solemn priests still pray for Richard's soul.'
The monastery of Jesus of Bethlehem seems to have been a very imposing group of buildings, covering several acres of ground, round about which soon gathered a considerable hamlet that was known as West Sheen. In the chapel connected with it continual prayers were offered up day and night for the soul of King Richard, and within its precincts was a hermitage called the Anchorites' cell, where dwelt the chaplain, whose stipend was fixed at twenty marks a year. The new community quickly gained a great reputation for sanctity, and its priors were all men chosen on account of their exceptional holiness, amongst whom the last, Henry Man, who died in 1536, was specially noted for his earnest faith, or what would at the present day be considered his credulity, for he firmly believed in the divine mission of the Holy Maid of Kent, who had during his term of office a great following of converts, and paid by her terrible death at Tyburn for her boldness in predicting the punishment of the king for his divorce of Katharine of Aragon.
Sheen Monastery
To Sheen Monastery came Edward IV. and his wife Elizabeth in 1472, to take part in what was called the 'Great Pardon,' a special dispensation granted to all who had contributed to the expense of restoring the buildings, and to it some thirty years later fled Perkin Warbeck in the vain hope of obtaining sanctuary, for he was dragged from his refuge by the king's emissaries, by whom he was taken to London to be set in the stocks, first at Westminster and at Cheapside, before he was sent to the Tower, where his fellow-conspirator, the young Earl of Warwick, was already imprisoned.
It was at Sheen that the education of the future Cardinal Pole was begun, he having been sent there at the early age of seven. He remained under the care of the monks for five years, and returned to them in 1525 for two years of prayerful seclusion before the beginning of his long struggle with Thomas Cromwell over the question of the king's divorce. The memory of the saintly Dean Colet is also inseparably connected with the House of Jesus of Bethlehem, for some little time after his foundation of St. Paul's School, he built for himself a house on land acquired from the brethren, to which he withdrew when he felt his end approaching, passing peacefully away in it in 1519.
According to an old but not well-authenticated tradition, the dead body of James IV. of Scotland was brought to Sheen for interment after the fatal battle of Flodden Field, remaining in the monastery, however, unhouselled and unassoiled, though protected from decay by being wrapt in lead amongst a quantity of lumber in an upper chamber until 1552—a date, by the way, long after the dissolution of the religious houses—when it was found by some workpeople, who cut off the head to give it to a glazier in Queen Elizabeth's employ, and buried the rest of the remains. In 1539 the monks of Sheen wisely evaded the penalties of resistance to the high-handed proceedings of Henry VIII. by voluntarily surrendering their property to him, and although later Queen Mary reinstated them in their old home, they were again banished by her successor. Meanwhile the monastery had been occupied, first by Edward, Earl of Hertford, brother of Jane Seymour, to whom the estate had been granted by her husband, and later by the father of Lady Jane Grey, Henry, Duke of Suffolk, after whose death on the scaffold in 1554 it reverted to the Crown, by whom it was leased to successive tenants, passing in 1675 to Lord Brouncker and the more celebrated diplomatist and historian, Sir William Temple, the former taking possession of the Priory, the latter of a smaller house near by. It was to Sir William Temple that were addressed the famous love-letters of Dorothy Osborne, who when she became his wife lived with him in what he called his 'little corner at Sheen,' sharing his interest in the cultivation of his gardens, which became celebrated far and near for the vegetables and fruit grown in them.
It was at Sheen that Jonathan Swift, who was for some years secretary to Sir William Temple, first met his beloved 'Stella,' Hester Johnston, who was born on the estate, and is said to have been the daughter of its owner. Whether this be true or not, her education was entrusted by Sir William to Swift, and it was to her that the latter addressed the Journal, which is considered one of his most remarkable works. Soon after his accession to the English throne, William III., who had seen a good deal of Sir William Temple when the owner of the 'little corner at Sheen' was ambassador at the Hague, offered him the post of Secretary of State, and though the appointment was declined, the king used often to ride over from Hampton Court to stroll about in the Sheen gardens, when he and his host would discuss together, now affairs of vital importance to the kingdom, now the best soil in which to grow different varieties of fruit. Swift was generally in attendance at these meetings, and is said to have been taught by the royal guest how to cook vegetables in the Dutch style. Possibly little Hester, still a mere child, may have shared the royal instructions, that were continued at Moor Park, to which her reputed father withdrew in 1689, giving over the Sheen home to his only surviving son, John Temple. After the death of the new tenant, who had been made Secretary for War, but committed suicide four days afterwards in despair of being able to cope with the onerous duties of his office, Sir William took a great dislike to his once beloved property, and never again visited it. Meanwhile Lord Brouncker had passed away, and after changing hands many times, the monastery buildings, as well as the house that had been owned by Sir William Temple, were pulled down in the early eighteenth century, with the exception of one gateway belonging to the former, which was still standing in 1769, when it too was removed, because it interfered with the so-called improvements being made by George III. on his Kew estate. The hamlet, that owed its existence to the monastery, was also swept away, but its name is preserved in those of the suburb of East Sheen, the road leading to it and one of the gates of Richmond Park, near to which, amongst the many modern villas that have recently sprung up, still remain some few stately old mansions, notably that known as Temple Grove, that was once the home of Sir John, brother of Sir William Temple.
The House of Jesus of Bethlehem was not the only monastery founded at Sheen by Henry V., for he also endowed a home for some French monks of the Celestine order, but it was hardly completed before he sent the inmates back to their own land and confiscated the property, because he discovered on a surprise visit he paid them that his name was not mentioned in their prayers. Later, Edward II. built a convent at Sheen for Carmelite, and Henry VII. one for Observant friars, but the career of both was short, for the former was soon removed to Oxford and the latter was suppressed in 1534, though a building near the palace was long known as the Friary, whilst the memory of what must have been a very important community is still preserved in the names of Friars' Lane, leading down to the river, and Friar Stile Road in Upper Richmond.
Richmond Lodge
The house in which Dean Colet passed away, that was confiscated with the rest of the monastery estate by Henry VIII., became known as the Lodge, and it was to it that Cardinal Wolsey was ordered to withdraw, as related above, on his last sad visit to Richmond. It was later successively leased to various tenants, and granted in the early eighteenth century to James, Duke of Ormond, who rebuilt or greatly added to it, residing in it till his impeachment in 1715, when it passed to his brother, the Earl of Arran, who sold it to the Prince of Wales, later George II., who was living in it with his wife, the Princess Caroline, when in 1727 the news of the death of his father was brought to him by Sir Robert Walpole. The new king gave the Lodge to the queen, who spent a great deal of money on it, laying out the grounds in a lavish fashion, and causing many extraordinary buildings to be erected in them, including a fantastic structure known as Merlin's Cave, a hermitage, a grotto, and a dairy. It was in this beloved retreat that Sir Walter Scott in his Heart of Midlothian laid the scene of the interview between Jeanie Deans and Queen Caroline that he prefaces with an eloquent description of Richmond Hill as it then was, and the inimitable view from it. After the death of Queen Caroline the Lodge was deserted for some little time, and in 1760 her grandson, George III., pulled it down, destroyed the beautiful terrace overlooking the river, and had the grounds ploughed up to add them to the grazing-grounds of his sheep and cattle, leaving not a trace of a home that was once as favourite a royal residence as the palaces of Richmond and Kew, though the Old Deer Park in which it stood, where archery, hockey, and other open-air competitions are now held, still seems to be haunted by the spirits of those who lived in it.
Richmond Town
Of the many other fine old mansions that were long the pride of Richmond, few, alas, now remain. Gone, for instance, is Fitzwilliam House that fronted the green, in which George II. was the guest of Sir Matthew Decker on the day when he was proclaimed king, and where its noble former owner formed the priceless collection of rare books, illuminated missals, etc., bequeathed by him to Cambridge and preserved in the Fitzwilliam Museum. Vanished, too, is the famous 'High walk' or 'terras on arches' that stretched from where the Vicarage now stands to one of the entrances to the grounds of the Lodge, and was a favourite promenade of the frequenters of the Richmond spa, which enjoyed a brief popularity in the early eighteenth century, as is also the humble group of houses known as Poverty Court, that were at one time occupied by some of the poorer members of the nobility. The great block of buildings erected in 1798 on part of the site of the old palace by the Earl of Cholmondeley, that later became associated with the notorious Earl of Queensberry, familiarly called 'Old O.,' in which the Prince of Wales, later George IV., and Mrs. Fitzherbert, the Duke of Clarence, later William IV., and Horace Walpole were amongst the many distinguished guests, was pulled down in 1830 and replaced by the modern villa that bears its name, though it is but a poor representative of its predecessor. Fortunately, however, between the fine bridge that replaced the ancient ferry in 1774 and Petersham, still stand facing the river and preserving much of the character of days gone by, several noteworthy survivals of the royal borough's palmy days, including the picturesque Bridge-House built by Sir Robert Taylor in the middle of the eighteenth century; the so-called Trumpeter's House, also known as the 'Old Palace,' a characteristic Queen Anne building with a pretentious porch, that owes its singular name to two figures of trumpeters that used to stand on either side of the entrance, Ivy Hall, the residence of William IV. when Duke of Clarence; Gothic House, long the home of the cultivated Madame de Staël-Holstein, daughter of the astute French minister Necker; and Buccleuch House, where Queen Victoria and Prince Albert, with many other members of the royal family, were the guests of the then owner in June 1844 at an open-air fête, when the river presented a scene almost as brilliant as in the days of Henry VIII. or Elizabeth.
Fortunately, the general aspect of Richmond Green, that when the palace was occupied by royalty was the scene of many a brilliant pageant, and later of many a hotly contested game of cricket, in which the chief experts of the day took part, is but little changed from what it was two centuries ago. Its wooden palings have been replaced by iron ones bearing the monogram of William IV., and the old sundial that long occupied its centre has been removed, but its limits have not been curtailed. It has a delightful old-world look about it, and there is nothing incongruous with it in the new buildings of the Free Library, or in the modern theatre associated with the name of Edmund Kean, who was at one time its lessee, that replaces, though on another site, the eighteenth-century building in which David Garrick and Mrs. Siddons are said to have acted, and that was the successor of a yet earlier one founded by the poet-laureate Colley Cibber. The narrow alleys leading from the town to the time-honoured Green are also thoroughly in keeping with it, and here and there a venerable red-brick mansion amongst the more modern buildings surrounding it redeems the ancient borough from the commonplace. The parish school and dust-bin, with the open refuse-heap that long occupied the site of the present crescent; the old watch-house that looked down upon them, with the adjacent pound and stocks, have all been improved away; but the houses of Heron, originally Herring Court, named probably after a former owner, in one of which Lord Lytton was often the guest of his brother, those in Ormond Road where dwelt the poetess Mrs. Hofland, Lichfield House, now the residence of the novelist Mrs. Maxwell (Miss Braddon), and Egerton House opposite to it, still strike the note of the past, that echoes also in the poetic name of the district known as the Vineyard, recalling the days when vines flourished on the slopes of Richmond Hill, and the almshouses of Sir Richard Wright and Bishop Duppa—both founded in the seventeenth century, though the latter was only transferred to its present site in 1852—received their first inmates. No longer do the shouts of the bargemen, who used to be harnessed to their crafts in groups of eight, tout for hire in Water Lane, and the quaint cry 'Man to horse!' by which their customers hailed them, clash with the shrill horn of the stagecoach that started for London twice a day, but at the junction of the Lane with King Street still stands part of the ancient Feather's Inn, once a noted place of resort of the beau monde, and not far from it is the little old-fashioned shop known as the Maid of Honour, because in it were sold the celebrated cakes bearing that name. Passed away, leaving no trace, however, are the Blue Anchor, Black Boy, and Queen Anne's inns, but near the summit of the famous hill, looking down upon the river, is the fine residence called Cardigan House, once the property of the earl whose name it bears, in the grounds of which is the medicinal spring near to which was erected in 1696 a place of entertainment called Richmond Wells, that was very much frequented until in 1696 the property was bought by two straight-laced maiden ladies named Houblin, who quickly put a stop to the gay gatherings that used to assemble in the theatre by having it pulled down.
Richmond Hill
Beyond Cardigan House are the beautiful public gardens occupying the site of Lansdowne House and part of the Buccleuch estate that were laid out after the designs of Sir Frederick, later Lord Leighton, and were opened in 1866, and a little higher up on the brow of the hill is the world-famous terrace, the view from which has been eloquently described again and again in poetry and prose, and has been made the subject of many a well-known painting. With Petersham Wood and village and the winding river in the foreground, it embraces the valley of the Thames as far as Windsor Castle, that can be distinctly seen on a clear day, and the distant Surrey hills varying in character with the season of the year, but ever full of fascination and inspiration to those who are able to appreciate its charm. Again and again the public have been threatened with the loss of the unique privilege of enjoying this unrivalled prospect, now one, now another of its exquisite details that has fallen into the market having been marked for destruction by the speculative builder, but in almost every case rescue has come sometimes at the very last moment by the intervention of some generous individual who has snatched the prey from the destroyer, as when in 1900 Sir Max Waechter bought the beautiful Petersham Ait or Glovers Islet and presented it to the Richmond Corporation. On the river side of the famous terrace are two massive-looking eighteenth-century mansions that, but for the memories associated with them, would be better away, known as the Wick, occupying the site of the Bull's Head Tavern and Wick House, the latter, though now considerably altered, originally designed by Sir William Chambers for Sir Joshua Reynolds, who lived in it for some years, receiving there many of his celebrated sitters, and more than once painting the view from its windows. At the end of the terrace—nearly opposite the entrance to Queen's Road, named after Queen Caroline, that was a century ago a mere muddy thoroughfare called Black Horse Lane—is the famous Star and Garter Hotel, that occupies the site of several earlier buildings, two of which were destroyed by fire. The first inn of the name—that commemorates the Earl of Dysart, a knight of the noble Order of Chivalry founded by Edward III., who owned the ground on which it stood—was built in 1738, and was but one of several hostelries dotted about near what was then known as the High Walk on the Green, amongst which was possibly a predecessor of the one opposite the picturesque modern Wesleyan College, named after the Lass o' Richmond Hill, about whom there has been so much amusing controversy, but whose identity has never yet been satisfactorily determined, some saying that she was Mrs. Fitzherbert, who at one time lived on the terrace, others that she was Lady Sarah Lennox, one of several ladies to whom George III. paid court before he married Queen Charlotte, whilst a few north-country sceptics declare that she was a rustic beauty of the Yorkshire Richmond.
It was not until the early nineteenth century that the Star and Garter began to gain the exceptional celebrity it still enjoys, but since 1838, when it was occupied by Louis Philippe, who was visited in it by the young Queen Victoria, it has been associated with the names of many illustrious guests, including the Princess Lieven, the widowed Queen Amelia, the ill-fated Archduke Maximilian, and the Duc d'Aumale.
RICHMOND FROM TWICKENHAM FERRY
RICHMOND FROM TWICKENHAM FERRY
Opposite to the Star and Garter is Ancaster House, soon, alas, to be replaced by residential flats, named after the Duke of Ancaster, from whom it was purchased by Sir Lionel Darrell, the favourite of George III., who gave to him a portion of the park, marking it off himself with his riding-whip, when he complained that he had not room for the hothouses he wished to build. In one of the large mansions facing the famous view lives Sir Frederick Cook, who owns a fine collection of paintings of the old masters, and a house in the adjacent Downe Terrace occupying part of the site of Bishop Duppa's almshouses referred to above, was the home at one time of Richard Brinsley Sheridan, and later of Mrs. Ewing, the daughter of Mrs. Gatty.
Richmond Town
The parish church of Richmond, dedicated to St. Mary Magdalene, replaces one of four ancient chapels that belonged to the Abbey of Merton. Its tower, a massive square structure, that has been again and again restored, is of much earlier date than the rest of the building, which has been several times added to. The general effect is not, however, inharmonious, and there is a simple dignity about the interior, that contains a number of interesting memorials of noted inhabitants of the royal borough, including a sixteenth-century brass to Robert Cotton, who was in the service of Queen Mary and Elizabeth, and one to Lady Dorothy Wright, who died in 1631. In the chancel is a monument to Lord Brouncker, who was cofferer to Charles II., and on the walls of one of the aisles are sculptures by Flaxman to the memory of the Rev. Mark Delafosse and the Honourable Barbara Lowther. The inscriptions to Mrs. Yates the great tragic actress, Lady Diana Beauclerck, the Rev. George Wakefield, Mrs. Hofland, and Edmund Kean, all of whom rest in the churchyard, are also noteworthy, but they are all surpassed in interest by the tablet commemorating the famous poet James Thomson, who lived for many years and died in 1748 in a cottage known as Rosedale, in the Kew Foot Road, that was later enlarged and now forms part of the Richmond Hospital, it having been bought by the Corporation in 1869. As is well known, Thomson greatly loved the scenery near his home, often referring to its charms in his poems; he wrote the Seasons in his garden, in a summer-house now destroyed, where he often received his fellow-poets Leigh Hunt and Pope, and the actor Samuel Quin, who once rescued him from a sponging-house into which he had drifted through his carelessness in money matters. Thomson was buried in the churchyard of the parish church, but when the latter was enlarged the new wall passed over his resting-place, which is near the brass tablet put up to his memory by Lord Buchan, at the west end of the north aisle, that bears the following inscription: 'In the earth below this tablet are the remains of James Thomson, author of the beautiful poems entitled the Seasons, the Castle of Indolence, etc., who died at Richmond, August 27, and was buried here August 29, 1748, O.S. The Earl of Buchan, unwilling that so good a man and so sweet a poet should be without a memorial, has denoted the place of his interment for the satisfaction of his admirers in the year of our Lord 1792.'
Beneath this sentence, that naively couples the name of its author with that of a man far greater than himself, is a quotation from Thomson's exquisite Winter that may well be given here, so typical is it of its writer's deeply reverent spirit:—
'Father of Light and Life! Thou God supreme,
O teach me what is good, teach me Thyself!
Save me from folly, vanity, and vice,
From every low pursuit, and feed my soul
With knowledge, conscious Peace and Virtue prove
Sacred, substantial, never-fading Bliss!'
Richmond Park
Next to its fine position on a very beautiful reach of the Thames, the chief glory of Richmond—a glory shared, however, by five other parishes, Petersham, Ham, Kingston, Putney, and Mortlake—is its noble park, known as the New or Great Park, to distinguish it from the one that was connected with the palace. It comprises two thousand acres of charming undulating scenery, grand oak woods and plantations of other trees alternating with fern-clad dells and dales, in the midst of which are the picturesque Pen Ponds, so called because they are near the enclosures for the deer. From certain points, especially from the terrace between the Richmond Hill gate and the entrance to the grounds of Pembroke Lodge, just within which is a memorial to Thomson, grand views are obtained of the Thames valley with the river winding through it, whilst from the rising ground on the other side of the park the buildings of London and the twin heights of Highgate and Hampstead can be distinctly seen.
Originally part of a vast tract of uncultivated land known as Sheen Chase, of which Ham and Sheen Commons are relics, the Great Park was first enclosed in 1637 by Charles I., who had a lofty wall, ten miles in circumference, built round it, and stocked it with the red and fallow deer the descendants of which add so greatly to its attractions, thus converting it without any legal justification into a new hunting-ground for his own pleasure. This high-handed proceeding, involving as it did the appropriation of much private property, aroused bitter opposition at the time, not only from the actual owners of the confiscated estates, but also from Archbishop Laud, Bishop Juxon, and Lord Cottington, then Chancellor of the Exchequer, who espoused the cause of the common people, their privileges of collecting firewood and turning their cattle out to graze having been interfered with. The result of the remonstrances of this powerful trio was that the king, though he would not yield up a yard of the ground he had so unfairly seized, ordered the provision, for the use of foot-passengers, of small gates and step-ladders, the latter of which was situated where the Coombe entrance, still known as the Ladder Gate, now is. Moreover, Charles granted to his ranger, in addition to the use of a house called Harleton Lodge, the site of which has not been identified, the right of pasturage for four horses, and allowed owners of carriages to drive through the park on payment of certain fees.
RICHMOND PARK WITH THE WHITE LODGE
RICHMOND PARK WITH THE WHITE LODGE
After the execution of the king, Parliament granted the park to the City of London, but on the Restoration it reverted to the Crown, to which it has ever since belonged. The rangership became a much coveted office that was held at different times by distinguished statesmen, including Sir Robert Walpole, who did much to improve the property, and built the famous old lodge that was pulled down in 1837. In 1751 the appointment of ranger was given to the Princess Amelia, who made a very bad stewardess, for she treated the estate as her own private property, shutting out the public entirely, and rendering herself so obnoxious that she was at last compelled to resign. She was succeeded by the Earl of Bute, and since his time the various restrictions to the enjoyment by outsiders of the beautiful park have been gradually removed, so that now all are free to wander at will amongst the woods and vales, or along the meandering Beverley Brook, to watch the grazing deer, that are no longer hunted, and to listen in the early spring to the songs of the nightingales or the harsh cry of the herons as they sweep down from their lofty nests to fish in the Thames. There are now six public carriage entrances to the park, and within its precincts are several old mansions standing in private grounds that are associated with interesting memories, amongst which the most famous is White Lodge, built by George II., and added to by the Princess Amelia, that was long the home of the Duchess of Kent, mother of Queen Victoria, and later that of the Duke and Duchess of Teck, parents of the present Princess of Wales, whose eldest son, the heir after his father to the English throne, was born in it. Close to Sheen Gate is a cottage once occupied by the famous naturalist Sir Richard Owen, and in Pembroke Lodge, once known as the Mole-Catchers, that was lent by George II. to the Countess of Pembroke, after whom it is named, the famous Prime Minister Earl Russell lived for some years and died. In the grounds of the Lodge are two mounds, one now called Henry the Eighth's, and marked in the oldest extant map of the park as the King's Standinge, because the much-married monarch was long erroneously supposed to have watched from it for the signal that Anne Boleyn's head had fallen; the other known as Oliver's Mount, because of the equally unfounded tradition that Cromwell looked down from it on a battle between the king's forces and his own, though exactly where the apocryphal battle took place is not suggested.
Petersham
Between Richmond and Kingston is the still charmingly rural-looking village of Petersham, set down in beautiful scenery, for it is protected on the north and east by the park named after it and Ham Common, and is divided from the river by the famous meadows, that will never be built over, known as Ham Walks, beloved of the poet Gay and of his patroness the old Duchess of Queensberry, the 'Kitty' whose praises were sung by him and by Pope and Swift, and who lived in a river-side mansion that was later occupied by Lady Douglas.
Referred to as Patriceham or Peter's Dwelling in Doomsday Book, the hamlet of Petersham was for several centuries a dependency of St. Peter's Abbey at Chertsey, and its quaint little sixteenth-century church, that has a picturesque turret surmounted by a low spire, probably occupies the site of a much earlier building, relics of which may possibly have been incorporated in the chancel that is much older than the nave. In the little sanctuary, that can only hold three hundred worshippers, and is soon to be supplemented by a far more imposing-looking building now (1907) nearing completion, rest the remains of George Cole and his wife, whose house and grounds were amongst the properties confiscated by Charles I. for enclosure in the Great Park, and the church also contains a monument to the great navigator Captain George Vancouver, who is buried in the churchyard. There, too, rest Theodora Jane Cowper, the 'Delia' immortalised by her famous poet cousin, and the Misses Berry, the friends of Horace Walpole, who in their lifetime enjoyed some little reputation as authoresses, and resided in the neighbouring Devonshire House, that was also at one time the home of Lady Diana Beauclerck.
Adjoining Petersham is the little village of Ham, the history of which, though it is not mentioned in Doomsday Book, can be traced back to before the Conquest, its manor having been given by King Athelstan to his chief alderman, Wulgar. Until quite recently a mere hamlet of scattered cottages, Ham is now growing into a populous suburb, but it still owes its chief distinction to its association with the celebrated Ham House, which is, however, really in Petersham parish, and represents the home of the Saxon thane Wulgar.
A characteristic Jacobean mansion, with fine avenues of trees leading up to the Petersham and riverside entrances, Ham House was built in 1610 by Sir Thomas Vavasour, and after changing hands several times it became the property of the noble Dysart family. It was long the home of Elizabeth, Countess of Dysart, in her own right, who was one of the most beautiful and accomplished women of her time, and played an important part in the Civil War. Twice married, the second time to the Duke of Lauderdale, she is said to have won all hearts, even that of the stern, unbending Cromwell, and when her husband was taken prisoner after the battle of Worcester she went herself to plead his cause with the victorious general. Later, when the duke had become the leading spirit of the Cabal Ministry, Ham House was the scene of many of its meetings, and allusions to it are frequent in the contemporary press, notably in the journal of John Evelyn, who under date 27th August 1678 penned an enthusiastic eulogy on it. In the autumn of that year John Campbell, grandson of the lovely Countess of Dysart, who was to become known as the great Duke of Argyll, was born in it, and throughout his chequered career he retained a great affection for it. He died in 1743 in the neighbouring Sudbrook House (now a hydropathic establishment), that was his favourite residence when he was in England.
Charles II. is said to have taken refuge in Ham House on one occasion when fleeing for his life from his enemies, narrowly escaping capture, and his brother James II. was to have been sent there after his deposition in 1688, but he pleaded so earnestly against it, declaring it to be a cold and comfortless place in the winter, that he was allowed to go to Rochester. In the eighteenth century the reputation of Ham House as one of the most beautiful seats near London was fully maintained, in spite of the carping criticism to which it was subjected by Horace Walpole, one of whose nieces had married its owner, the Earl of Dysart. Queen Charlotte was a frequent visitor there, and later William IV. was often the guest of the famous Lady Dysart, who died at a great age in 1840. Since then the time-honoured building has been little altered, and to the art treasures accumulated by its early owners have been added many fine paintings by Sir Joshua Reynolds, Hoppner, Vandyck, and other great masters. It remains one of the very few historic mansions on the Thames that have escaped destruction, and those who now own it have given many proofs of their respect for its traditions.
Kingston
To pass from Richmond, Petersham, and Ham, that still bear the unmistakable impress of the past, to modern Kingston and its suburbs Surbiton and Norbiton, is to enter a different world, so completely has the ancient city, which is referred to in a charter of King Edred bearing date 946 as the 'royal town where kings are hallowed,' been transformed since the days when the Saxon kings were crowned in it, sitting on the stone still preserved in a railed-in space opposite the Courthouse. There, as inscribed upon the venerable relic, Athelstan, Edmund, Edred, Edgar, Edward the Martyr, Ethelred II., and Edmund received their crowns; there the national councils assembled; and there took place the tragic scenes between Dunstan and the young king Edwy, whom the archbishop dared to follow to the chamber of his bride, Œlgifa, an intrusion the newly wedded wife never forgave, and that had much to do with her bitter hostility to her husband's adviser. In 1200 the reluctant King John was compelled to give the citizens of Kingston their first charter, and in the royal town Henry III. was defied in 1264 by the turbulent barons in the once formidable castle, the very site of which cannot now be determined. Into Kingston, in 1472, marched Falconbridge with fifty thousand men in pursuit of Edward IV., whose tenure of the throne was still insecure, to find the bridge, the only one that then spanned the river above the City of London, broken down, so that he was obliged to return by the way that he had come; and at Kingston many years afterwards, the ill-fated Katharine of Aragon, then a happy-hearted girl of sixteen, halted for a night on her way to be married to Prince Arthur, elder brother of the second husband who was to treat her so cruelly. In 1554 the doomed Sir Thomas Wyatt, in arms against Queen Mary, secured a temporary success by crossing the river at Kingston on a bridge of boats, and in 1647 the old town was for some months the headquarters of General Fairfax in command of the Parliamentarian troops. There a year later the last stand was made under the Earl of Holland of the Royalists, who were cut to pieces, their leader falling after a desperate resistance against fearful odds. Since then Kingston has enjoyed a long spell of peace and security, but it has lost the distinction that belonged to it in those days of unrest, retaining but very few survivals of the past. Its parish church, one of the largest in England, was founded in the early thirteenth century, but it has been almost completely modernised, part of its tower and the southern aisle of the chancel being all that are left of the original structure. It contains, however, some interesting monuments, notably the altar-tomb of Sir Anthony Benn, who died in 1618, and a seated marble statue of the Countess of Liverpool by Chantrey, with several fine brasses, including that to Robert Skern and his wife Joan, daughter of Alice Ferrers, and according to tradition of Edward III., and that to John Hertcombe and his wife, who died in 1477 and 1478.
THAMES DITTON
THAMES DITTON
A few old houses in the market-place are all that now remain of the many mansions that were once the pride of royal Kingston, but its fine situation on the Thames preserves to it something of the distinction it enjoyed for so long. It is, moreover, in touch with much beautiful Surrey scenery and within easy reach by water of many picturesque riverside villages, such as Thames Ditton, much frequented by boating men and anglers, and East Molesey on the junction of the Mole with the Thames opposite Hampton Court, a favourite resort of holiday-makers in the summer, when the towing-path is lined with gaily decorated house-boats and pleasure-crafts of great variety are constantly passing up and down stream.
Fulham
Although unfortunately much of the romantic beauty that for centuries distinguished riverside Middlesex has gone for ever, there still remain here and there picturesque survivals of the long-ago, recalling the days when it rivalled its opposite neighbour, Surrey, in rural charm. Some fifty years ago indeed, even Fulham, now indissolubly linked with London, was a country place, with market gardens sloping down to the Thames, and fishermen's cottages dotted here and there upon its banks. The manor of Fulham was given in the seventh century by the Bishop of Hereford, to whom it then belonged, to the holy St. Erkenwald, Bishop of London, and its history has ever since been intimately bound up with that of the Church in southern England. The ancient manor-house, that was long the favourite residence of St. Erkenwald's successors, is now represented by the palace, the older portion of which dates from the fifteenth century, it having been built by Bishop Fitzjames, whose arms surmount the gateway. In it lived for some time Bishop Ridley, who, with the equally famous Hugh Latimer, Bishop of Worcester, suffered death at the stake at Oxford in 1554, for their heretical opinions, and the no less steadfast Bishop Bonner, who was deprived of his see for refusing to take the oath of supremacy that meant the recognition of Queen Elizabeth as the head of the Church. To Fitzjames's building Bishop Fletcher, father of the famous dramatist, made considerable additions, including the present library, at one time used as a chapel, that contains with many valuable manuscripts and books a number of interesting portraits, such as those of Archbishop Sandys and Bishops Ridley and Juxon.
Early in the eighteenth century the greater part of the palace at Fulham was pulled down, and it was not until 1764 that the river front was rebuilt. The present chapel was added in 1869 by Bishop Tait, later Archbishop of Canterbury, and from time to time minor alterations have been made, the new and the old having, however, been so skilfully dovetailed together that the group of buildings with their encircling moat present a very harmonious general appearance. The ancient parish church, the date of the foundation of which is unknown, to which the charming Bishop's Walk leads from the palace, has also been reverently treated, the necessary restorations having been made with considerable care. In the well-kept churchyard rest many bishops and other celebrities, including Theodore Hook, the talented but dissipated novelist, who died in poverty and debt in 1841; and here and there amongst the sea of modern villas and rows of shops that make up the Fulham of to-day are a few old homesteads that still serve to keep the past in some slight degree in touch with the present. This is especially the case in the district of North End, where in a mansion now divided into two houses Samuel Richardson wrote Clarissa Harlowe and part of Sir Charles's Grandson, and where in residences that cannot now be identified lived at different times W. Wynne Ryland, the famous line-engraver who was hanged for forgery in 1783, Dr. Crotch, the musical composer, Edmund Kean, Mrs. Delaney, Jonathan Swift, and Jacob Tonson.
Hammersmith
Even more Londonised than Fulham is its neighbour Hammersmith, the situation of which, however, on a picturesque reach of the Thames, that is here spanned by a suspension bridge, still preserves to it a certain charm. The seventeenth-century church, if not architecturally beautiful, is in harmony with its surroundings, and though the famous Brandenburg House, in which Queen Caroline passed away, and the ancient manor-house of Pullenswick, later known as Ravenscroft, at one time the home of Alice Ferrers, the heartless mistress of Edward III., have both been pulled down, the Dove Coffee-house, in which, in a room overlooking the river, Thomson wrote his beautiful poem of Winter, remains much what it was when it was one of the favourite haunts of the poet and his kindred spirits, Leigh Hunt, who lived in a little cottage hard by, and Pope, who often came down from his villa at Twickenham for a friendly chat. On what is known as the Lower Mall lived many celebrities when it was the fashionable quarter of Hammersmith, including the clever engineer Sir Samuel Morland, the trusted friend of Charles II.; Arthur Murphy the dramatist, Philip de Loutherbourg the artist, Charles Burney the Greek scholar, and greater than them all, the poet Coleridge; whilst in the adjoining Upper Mall, now destroyed, Queen Catherine, the neglected wife of Charles II., resided for some years after the death of her fickle husband. Later the celebrated Dr. Ratcliffe, who attended Queen Anne, had a house near by, next door to which lived the scarcely less noted non-juring Bishop Lloyd of Norwich. Long a centre of Roman Catholicism, Hammersmith at one time owned an important Benedictine convent, in which during the French Revolution many fugitive nuns from France took refuge, and part of the ancient buildings are now used as a college for priests; whilst the nunnery itself may be said to be represented by the modern Nazareth House, the headquarters of the devoted Little Sisters of the Poor.
Strange to say, though Hammersmith has all but lost in the rush and hurry of the present the impress of the past, its neighbour Chiswick has to a great extent retained its old-fashioned character. True, it has lost many of its ancient mansions, such as Chiswick Hall, long a favourite summer residence of the masters of Westminster School, and the quaint Red Lion Inn with the whetstone chained to the lintel of the door, beloved of artists and poets, has been improved away; but fortunately the house in which Hogarth lived for some years and died has been preserved, and Chiswick House, long the seat of the Dukes of Devonshire, now a private lunatic asylum, is still much what it was more than a century ago. The venerable cedar-trees and antique statues in its grounds, with the noble entrance gateway designed in 1625 by Inigo Jones for Beaufort House, and given by Sir Hans Sloane to the owner of the estate in 1738, preserve to it even at this late day something of a classic and aristocratic character. Built between 1730 and 1736, on the site of an earlier Jacobean mansion, by the last Earl of Burlington, who enjoyed some little reputation as an architect during his lifetime, Chiswick House was greatly enlarged by his successor, who was fond of holding open-air fêtes in its gardens, which were almost as celebrated as those at Kew, and were for some years under the care of the distinguished botanist, Sir Joseph Paxton; but the mansion itself is now chiefly celebrated for the fact that in it the two great statesmen, Charles James Fox and George Canning, passed away, strange to say, in the same room, the former in 1806 the latter in 1827.
STRAND ON THE GREEN WITH KEW BRIDGE
STRAND ON THE GREEN WITH KEW BRIDGE
The Chiswick Mall, practically a continuation of that of Hammersmith though divided from it by coal wharves, etc., with its charming views up and down stream, a picturesque eyot rising from the middle of the river opposite to it, and the tower of the venerable parish church looking down upon it, is still one of the most delightful promenades on the Middlesex side of the Thames. The church, fitly dedicated to St. Nicolas, the patron-saint of fishermen, who still form a notable portion of the congregation, is a somewhat uninteresting modern successor of a very ancient foundation, but it fortunately retains, in addition to the tower, a few relics of the original nave and chancel, with several noteworthy monuments, including one to Charles Holland, the actor, erected by his friend David Garrick, and many inscriptions to the memory of celebrities who once lived in Chiswick, such as Mary, Countess of Falconbridge, and her sister Frances, daughters of Oliver Cromwell, and the famous beauties, Barbara, Duchess of Cleveland, and Margaret Cecil, Countess of Ranelagh; whilst in the churchyard rest the artists Hogarth, Philip Loutherbourg, and James M'Neill Whistler, whose mother is buried beside him; the engravers William Sharp and James Fittler, the diplomatist Lord Macartney, and the Italian patriot Ugo Foscolo.
Strand-on-the-Green
Connecting Chiswick with Brentford, and keeping up, as it were, the continuity of the traditions of the past, is the picturesque terrace of quaint old houses known as Strand-on-the-Green, extending for about half a mile along the banks of the river, which at high tide often invades it, washing over the defences that have been from time to time put up against it. Until about the beginning of the eighteenth century Strand-on-the-Green was but part of a fishing hamlet, but it gradually became transformed into a fashionable quarter, stately, well-built houses—in one of which lived the poet David Mallet, in another the artist Zoffany, and in another Joe Miller the jester—contrasting with picturesque cottages, such as the charming group still standing that were given to the poor in 1724 by a generous citizen, and rubbing shoulders with ancient inns, some of which are but little altered even now, and are frequented as of yore by fishermen and boatmen.
Brentford
From Strand-on-the-Green the view of the Thames is no less fascinating than that from Hammersmith and Chiswick Malls, for even at low tide, when gleaming stretches of mud line the banks on either side, the colour effects are charming. Higher up, too, where the little river Brent—that with the Brentford Canal forms part of a great system of inland waterways—flows into the Thames, a touch of poetry still lingers, in spite of the fact that the once beautiful village named after the ancient ford has become one of the most prosaic of the Middlesex suburbs. The three-arched bridge that spanned the Brent a little above its mouth, at which a toll used to be levied on all cattle and merchandise and all Jews and Jewesses crossing it on foot or on horseback, though Christians were allowed to pass over free, is replaced by a modern one with but one arch; the house in which the notorious Noy, chancellor to Charles IL, decided on the re-imposition of the hated ship-tax has been pulled down; the ancient market-hall, with its high-pitched roof, that had been the scene of many a hotly contested election, and in which resounded during the riots of 1769 the cry of 'Wilkes and Liberty!' was pulled down in 1850 to make way for the present town-hall, and a little later its fate was shared by the famous half-timbered hostelry of the Three Pigeons, that may possibly have been visited by Shakespeare when it was tenanted by one of the actors in his company, John Lowen. Vanished, too, is the house in which John Bunyan lived at the beginning of his crusade against vice in high places; but here and there, in what is still known as the Half Acre district, that is intimately associated with the memory of the author of the Pilgrim's Progress, and also in the modern High Street, a few ancient tenements, with lofty, many-gabled roofs, survive to bear witness to olden times. Moreover, about half a mile from what is now known as New Brentford, though it is really more venerable than the rest of the town, is another link with the past: Burton House, a mansion occupying the site of the manor-house of Burston, or Budeston, that belonged before the suppression of the monasteries to St. Helen's, Bishopsgate, and was later owned by Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester.
THE CANAL, BRENTFORD
THE CANAL, BRENTFORD
Brentford has more than once figured conspicuously in the history of England. Near to it, for instance, King Edmund Ironsides defeated the Danes in 1016, and in it a few days after the victory the gallant Saxon king was treacherously murdered. More than six hundred years later the town, then at the zenith of its prosperity, was besieged by Prince Rupert, and the parliamentary garrison driven out with great loss; but all too soon, in the opinion of the inhabitants, who were staunch partisans of the king, the tide turned again. Reinforcements arrived from London and encamped on the then open space of Turnham Green; Charles, who had started from Kingston to join Prince Rupert, was compelled to draw back, and presently Oliver Cromwell himself, fresh from victory, marched through Brentford in triumph.