diff --git "a/text.jnlp" "b/text.jnlp" deleted file mode 100644--- "a/text.jnlp" +++ /dev/null @@ -1,665 +0,0 @@ -{"id": 1, "text": "The Project Gutenberg eBook of London parks and gardens\n \nThis ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and\nmost other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions\nwhatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms\nof the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online\nat www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States,\nyou will have to check the laws of the country where you are located\nbefore using this eBook.\n\nTitle: London parks and gardens\n\nAuthor: Alicia Amherst\n\nIllustrator: Victoria Manners\n\nRelease date: May 10, 2025 [eBook #76057]\n\nLanguage: English\n\nOriginal publication: New York: E. P. Dutton and Company, 1907\n\nCredits: The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)\n\n\n*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LONDON PARKS AND GARDENS ***\n\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber’s Note: Italics are enclosed i"} -{"id": 2, "text": "n _underscores_. Superscripts\nare shown as ^e or ^{BLE}. Additional notes will be found near the end\nof this ebook.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: (cover)]\n\n[Illustration: (map)]\n\n\n\n\nLONDON PARKS AND GARDENS\n\n[Illustration: ST. KATHARINE’S LODGE, REGENT’S PARK]\n\n\n\n\n LONDON PARKS AND GARDENS\n\n\n BY\n\n THE HON^{BLE} MRS. EVELYN CECIL\n (ALICIA AMHERST)\n CITIZEN AND GARDENER OF LONDON\n\n AUTHOR OF “A HISTORY OF GARDENING IN ENGLAND”\n “CHILDREN’S GARDENS,” ETC.\n\n\n WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY\n LADY VICTORIA MANNERS\n\n\n “_Reade the whole and then judge_”\n\n JOHN CHRISTOPHERSON,\n Bishop of Chichester, 1554\n\n\n NEW YORK\n E. P. DUTTON AND COMPANY\n 1907\n\n"} -{"id": 3, "text": "\n\n\n Printed by\n BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO.\n Edinburgh\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\n\nIn spite of the abundance of books on London, not one exists which\ntells the story of the Parks and Gardens as a whole. Some of the Royal\nParks have been dealt with, and most of the Municipal Parks, but in\nseparate works. When Squares are touched on, in guide-books, or in\nvolumes to themselves, the Gardens are for the most part left alone,\nand gossip of the inhabitants forms the centre of the narrative. This\nis the case also with public buildings and private houses which have\ngardens attached to them. To give a sketch of the history of the\nmore important Parks and Gardens, and to point out any features of\nhorticultural interest, is the object of the following pages. London is\nsuch a wide word, and means such a different area at various periods,\nthat it has been necessary to make some hard and fast rule to define\nthe scope of this work. I h"} -{"id": 4, "text": "ave, therefore, decided to keep strictly to\nthe limits of the County of London within the official boundaries of\nthe London County Council at the present time.\n\nI would express my thanks to the authorities of the Parks, both Royal\nand Municipal, for their courtesy in affording me information, and to\nmany friends who have facilitated my search in historical and private\ngardens. I am also extremely grateful to my friend, Miss Margaret\nMacArthur, who has assisted me in the tedious task of correcting\nproofs. The lists of trees and shrubs, and of plants in the beds in\nHyde Park, were kindly drawn up for me by the Park Superintendent, the\nlate Mr. Jordan, with the consent of H.M. Office of Works.\n\n ALICIA M. CECIL.\n\n 10 EATON PLACE,\n _August 1907_.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n CHAP. PAGE\n I. INTRODUCTORY 1\n\n II. HYDE PARK "} -{"id": 5, "text": " 23\n\n III. ST. JAMES’S AND GREEN PARKS 56\n\n IV. REGENT’S PARK 83\n\n V. GREENWICH PARK 106\n\n VI. MUNICIPAL PARKS 119\n\n VII. SOUTH LONDON PARKS 155\n\n VIII. COMMONS AND OPEN SPACES 185\n\n IX. SQUARES 217\n\n X. BURIAL-GROUNDS 242\n\n XI. INNS OF COURT 261\n\n XII. HISTORICAL GARDENS 289\n\n XIII. PRIVATE GARDENS 327\n\n APPENDIX TO PRIVATE GARDENS: CHARLTON 357\n\n LIST OF SOME OF THE WORKS CONSULTED 3"} -{"id": 6, "text": "61\n\n HYDE PARK AND KENSINGTON GARDENS: LIST OF TREES AND SHRUBS 368\n\n INDEX 377\n\n\n\n\nLIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS\n\n\n COLOURED PLATES\n\n ST. KATHARINE’S LODGE, REGENT’S PARK _Frontispiece_\n _Page_\n DOLPHIN FOUNTAIN, HYDE PARK 38\n\n AUTUMN BEDS, HYDE PARK 46\n\n FOUNTAIN BY COUNTESS FEODOR GLEICHEN, HYDE PARK 54\n\n CROCUSES IN EARLY SPRING, ST. JAMES’S PARK 64\n\n AUTUMN IN REGENT’S PARK 90\n\n SPRING IN REGENT’S PARK 102\n\n WATERLOW PARK 148\n\n OLD ENGLISH GARDEN, BROCKWELL PARK 172\n\n STATUE OF PITT, HANOVER SQUARE "} -{"id": 7, "text": " 220\n\n STATUE OF WILLIAM III. IN ST. JAMES’S SQUARE 226\n\n ST. PAUL’S CHURCHYARD 250\n\n THE BANK GARDEN 258\n\n THE INNER TEMPLE GARDEN 270\n\n THE FOUNTAIN COURT, MIDDLE TEMPLE 276\n\n LINCOLN’S INN 280\n\n THE GARDEN GATES, GRAY’S INN 288\n\n GREY COAT SCHOOL, WESTMINSTER 298\n\n THE LITTLE CLOISTER, WESTMINSTER ABBEY 302\n\n HERBACEOUS BORDER, LAMBETH PALACE 306\n\n STATUE OF CHARLES II., CHELSEA HOSPITAL 312\n\n CHELSEA PHYSIC GARDEN 324\n\n THE GARDEN OF SIR LAURENCE ALMA-TADEMA, R.A. 334\n\n "} -{"id": 8, "text": "THE LILY POND, HOLLAND HOUSE 340\n\n ST. JOHN’S LODGE, REGENT’S PARK 347\n\n\n IN THE TEXT\n\n PAGE\n DOLPHIN FOUNTAIN IN HYDE PARK 39\n\n FOUNTAINS AT THE END OF THE SERPENTINE 43\n\n A CORNER OF THE QUEEN VICTORIA MEMORIAL GARDENS 81\n\n STONE VASE IN REGENT’S PARK 101\n\n PAGODA ON THE ISLAND, VICTORIA PARK 138\n\n STOKE NEWINGTON CHURCH FROM CLISSOLD PARK 143\n\n FOUNTAIN BY TINWORTH, KENNINGTON PARK 167\n\n STATUE OF MRS. SIDDONS, PADDINGTON GREEN 214\n\n WINTER GARDEN, DUKE STREET, GROSVENOR SQUARE 220\n\n SUN-DIAL, ST. BOTOLPH’S 25"} -{"id": 9, "text": "6\n\n TRINITY ALMSHOUSES, MILE END ROAD 293\n\n ABBEY GARDEN, WESTMINSTER 301\n\n GARDEN GATE, CHELSEA HOSPITAL 314\n\n IN THE GARDEN, ST. JOHN’S LODGE 349\n\n\n\n\nLondon Parks & Gardens\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nINTRODUCTORY\n\n _London, thou art the Flour of cities all._\n\n --WILLIAM DUNBAR, 1465–1530.\n\n\nLondon has a peculiar fascination of its own, and to a vast number of\nEnglish-speaking people all over the world it appeals with irresistible\nforce. So much has been said and written about it that the theme might\nseem to be worn out, yet there are still fresh aspects to present,\nstill hidden charms to discover, still deep problems to solve. The\nhuge, unwieldly mass, which cannot be managed or legislated for as\nother towns, but has to be treated as a county, enfolds within its area\nall the phases of human life. It embraces every grad"} -{"id": 10, "text": "ation from wealth\nto poverty, from the millionaire to the pauper alien. The collection of\nbuildings which together make London are a most singular assortment of\ninnumerable variations between beauty and ugliness, between palaces and\nworks of art and hovels of sordid and unlovely squalor.\n\nAn Englishman must be almost without soul who can stand for the first\ntime unmoved within the precincts of Westminster Abbey or look without\nsatisfaction at the faultless proportions of St. Paul’s. The sense of\npossession, the pride of inheritance, are the uppermost feelings in\nhis mind. But he who loves not only London itself with a patriotic\nveneration, but also his fellow-men, will not rest with the inspection\nof the beautiful. He will journey eastward into the heart of the mighty\ncity, and see its seething millions at work, its dismal poverty, its\nrelentless hardness. The responsibility of heirship comes over him, the\nsadness, the pathos, the evil of it all depresses him, the hopelessness\nof the c"} -{"id": 11, "text": "ontrast overpowers him; but apart from all ideas of social\nreform, from legislative action or philanthropic theories, there is\none thin line of colour running through the gloomy picture. The parks\nand gardens of London form bright spots in the landscape. They are\nbeyond the pale of controversy; they appeal to all sections of the\ncommunity, to the workers as well as to the idlers, to the rich as well\nas to the poor, to the thoughtful as well as to the careless. From the\nutilitarian point of view they are essential. They bring new supplies\nof oxygen, and allow the freer circulation of health-giving fresh\nair. They are not less useful as places of exercise and recreation.\nThey waft a breath of nature where it is most needed, and the part\nthey play in brightening the lives of countless thousands cannot be\nover-estimated.\n\nThe parks and gardens of London have a past full of historical\nassociations, and at the present time their full importance is slowly\nbeing realised. Much has been done to"} -{"id": 12, "text": " improve and beautify them,\nbut much remains to be achieved in that direction before their\ncapabilities will have been thoroughly developed. The opportunity\nis great, and if only the best use can be made of it London Parks\ncould be the most beautiful as well as the most useful in the world.\nIt is impossible to praise or criticise them collectively, as they\nhave different origins, are administered by separate bodies, and have\ndistinct functions to perform. It cannot be denied that the laying out\nin some and the planting in other cases could be improved. Plans could\nbe carried out with more taste than is sometimes shown, and new ideas\nbe encouraged, but on the whole there is so much that is excellent and\nwell done that there is a great deal to be proud of.\n\nThe various open spaces in London can easily be grouped into classes.\nFirst there are the Royal Parks, with a history and management of\ntheir own; then there are all the Parks either created or kept up by\nthe London County Council, an"} -{"id": 13, "text": "d most of the commons and other large\nopen spaces are in their jurisdiction also, though a few parks and\nrecreation grounds are under the borough councils. Municipal bodies for\nthe most part take charge of all the disused burial grounds converted\ninto gardens, though some are maintained by the parish or the rector.\nThen there is another class of garden which must be included, namely,\nall the squares of London, as, although few are open to the public,\nthey form no insignificant proportion of the unbuilt area.\n\nAll through London there are survivals of old gardens, which are still\neither quiet and concealed, or thrown open to the public. Such are the\ngrounds of the Charterhouse, of Chelsea Hospital, or of the Foundling\nHospital, and of other old-world haunts of peace. The rarest thing\nin London are the private gardens, yet they too go to make up the\naggregate lungs of the city. Out of a total of upwards of 75,000 acres\nthere are in round numbers some 6000 acres of parks, commons, squares"} -{"id": 14, "text": ",\nand open spaces in London: of these a little over 4000 acres are in\nthe hands of the London County Council. Besides this it administers\nnearly 900 acres outside the county. The City of London owns large\nforest tracts, commons, and parks beyond the limit of the County of\nLondon--Epping, Burnham Beeches, Highgate Wood, and parks in West Ham,\nKilburn, &c.--altogether nearly 6500 acres.\n\nLondon is such a wide word, it is difficult to set a limit, and\nto decide what open spaces actually belong to London. As the town\nstretches away into the country, it is impossible to see the boundaries\nof London. The line must be drawn near where the chimney-pots become\nincessant, and the stems of the trees become black. But the degree of\nblackness, dirt, and density is impossible to decide; so a prosaic,\nmatter-of-fact, but necessary rule has been adhered to in the following\npages, of keeping as strictly as possible to the actual defined limits\nof the County of London. Therefore all the parks owned by t"} -{"id": 15, "text": "he City\nCorporation or London County Council outside this limit have not been\ndealt with, and such places as Chiswick, Kew, Richmond, or Gunnersbury\nhave been omitted.\n\nTo get to some of these places involves a considerable journey. Many\nof the outlying parks have to be reached by train, or by a very long\ndrive, or tram ride. From Hyde Park Corner, for instance, to Bostall\nWood or Avery Hill is a long expedition. To the fortunate few who\npossess motor cars the distances are trifling, but the vast majority\nof people must exercise considerable ingenuity, and possess a good\nbump of locality, if they wish to visit all London’s open spaces. A\nknowledge of the distant places, the names of which are inscribed in\nlarge letters on every omnibus, is necessary. The Royal Oak, Elephant\nand Castle, or Angel, are but starting-places for the more distant\nroutes, although they form the goal of green, red, or blue ’busses.\nThe electric trams of South London have made the approach to Dulwich,\nPeckham, G"} -{"id": 16, "text": "reenwich, and many other parks much more simple, and motor\n’busses rattle along close to even the distant Golder’s Hill or\nHighbury Fields. With a railway time-table, a good eye for colour in\nselecting the right omnibus, and a knowledge of the points of the\ncompass, every green patch in London can be reached with ease, even by\nthose whose purses are not long enough to let them indulge in motors,\nor whose nerves are not steady enough to let them venture on bicycles.\n\nEach park forms the central point of some large district, and they are\nnot dependent on the casual visitor for appreciation. Every single\ngreen spot, on a fine Saturday throughout the year, is peopled with\na crowd from the neighbourhood, and on every day in the year, winter\nas well as summer, almost every open space has a ceaseless throng of\ncomers and goers.\n\nWhat is the cost of maintenance of these parks is a question that\nwill naturally occur; and the answer in many cases is easy to find,\nas the statistics of both the Lo"} -{"id": 17, "text": "ndon County Council Parks, published\nin their handbook, and those of the Royal Parks, which are submitted\nto Parliament every year, are accessible. The following extracts may,\nhowever, be useful. In looking at the two sets of figures, of course\nthe acreage must be borne in mind, and the great expense of police\nin the Royal Parks, amounting to £8782 for Hyde Park alone, must be\ndeducted before any fair comparison can be made, even when results are\nnot considered.\n\n +----------------------+------------------------------------------------------+--------+\n | | 1907–8. | 1906–7.|\n | +------+---------+--------+---------+---------+--------+--------+\n | | | | | New | | | |\n | | | Wages | Police,| Works | Mainte- | | |\n | |Acres.| and | Park- | and | nance. | Tota"} -{"id": 18, "text": "l. | Total. |\n | | |Salaries.|keepers.| Altera- | | | |\n | | | | | tions. | | | |\n +----------------------+------+---------+--------+---------+---------+--------+--------+\n | | | £ | £ | £ | £ | £ | £ |\n | 1. Greenwich | 185 | 225 | 1,090 | 175 | 3,737 | 5,319 | 4,554 |\n +----------------------+------+---------+--------+---------+---------+--------+--------+\n | { Hyde Park } | | | | | | | |\n | 2. { St. James’s } | 509½ | 724 | 12,153 | 4,965 | 50,886 | 69,269 | 48,835 |\n | { Green Park } | | | | | | | |\n +----------------------+------+---------+--------+---------+---------+--------+--------+\n | 3. Kensington Gardens| 274 | 138 | 1,590 | 50 | 5,831 | 7,"} -{"id": 19, "text": "730 | 7,804 |\n +----------------------+------+---------+--------+---------+---------+--------+--------+\n | { Regent’s Park } | | | | | | | |\n | 4. { and } | 472½ | 290 | 2,171 | 300 | 11,417 | 14,542 | 13,329 |\n | { Primrose Hill } | | | | | | | |\n +----------------------+------+---------+--------+---------+---------+--------+--------+\n _Taken from the Estimates for 1907–8._\n\n\n +-----------+-------+------------+------------+---------+\n | | | Net | Average | |\n | | Acres.| Aggregate | Cost of | Number |\n | | | Capital |Maintenance.|of Staff.|\n | | |Expenditure.| | |\n +-----------+-------+------------+------------+---------+\n | | | £ | £ | |\n | Battersea | 199 | 21,042 | 10,8"} -{"id": 20, "text": "97 | 92 |\n | Brockwell | 127¼ | 114,322 | 4,493 | 34 |\n | Dulwich | 72 | 45,510 | 3,330 | 28 |\n | Finsbury | 115 | 137,934 | 7,649 | 52 |\n | Victoria | 217 | 38,430 | 12,099 | 107 |\n | Waterlow | 26 | 11,178 | 2,658 | 24 |\n +-----------+-------+------------+------------+---------+\n _Taken from L.C.C. Handbook No. 1009, 1906._\n\n\nLondon has always been a city of gardens, and although much boast is\nmade of the newly-acquired open spaces, a wail for those destroyed\nwould have equal justification. It is very terrible that everything in\nlife has to be learnt by slow and hard lessons, dearly purchased under\nthe iron rod of experience. It is not till the want of a green spot\nis brought painfully home to people by its loss, that the thought of\nsaving the last remaining speck of greenery is borne in upon them with\nsufficient force to transform the wish into action. For generations\ngarden after g"} -{"id": 21, "text": "arden has passed into building land. No one has a right\nto grudge the wealth or prosperity that has accrued in consequence,\nbut the wish that the benevolence and foresight of past days had taken\na different bent, and that a more systematic retention of some of the\ntown gardens had received attention, cannot be banished.\n\nWhen Roman civilisation had been swept away in Britain, and with\nit all vestiges of the earliest gardens, there are no vestiges of\nhorticulture until Christianity had taken hold of the country, and\nreligious houses were rising up in various parts of the kingdom. The\ncradle of modern gardening may be said to have been within the peaceful\nwalls of these monastic foundations. In no part of the country were\nthey more numerous than in and around London, and it is probable that\nevery establishment had its garden for the supply of vegetables, and\nmore particularly medicinal herbs. Attached to most of them, there was\nalso a special garden for the production of flowers for deco"} -{"id": 22, "text": "ration\non church festivals. It is probable that the earliest London gardens\nwere of this monastic character, and as long as the buildings were\nmaintained the gardens were in existence. The Grey, the Black, the\nWhite, and the Austin Friars all had gardens within their enclosures;\nand the Hospitaller Orders--the Templars and Knights of St. John--had\nlarge gardens within their precincts. The Temple Garden is still one\nof the charms of London, but only the old gateway of the Priory of St.\nJohn in Clerkenwell remains, and the garden, with all its historical\nassociations, has long since vanished. It was in a small upper room,\n“next the garden in the Hospital of St. John of Jerusalem in England,\nwithout the bars of West Smythfield,” that Henry VII., in the first\nyear of his reign, gave the Great Seal to John Morton, Bishop of Ely,\nand appointed him Chancellor, and he “carried the seal with him” to\nhis house, Ely Place, hard by.[1] These small references show the\npicturesque side of such event"} -{"id": 23, "text": "s, the gardens constantly being the\nbackground of the scenes.\n\nIt is only one more of the regrettable results of the barbarous way\nin which the Reformation was carried out in England, that the gardens\nshared the fate of the stately buildings round whose sheltering walls\nthey flourished. It is not easy to picture the desolation of those\ndays: the unkept, uncared-for garden, trodden under foot, makes the\nforlorn aspect of the despoiled monasteries more pathetic.\n\nLondon was a city of palaces in Plantagenet times, and the great\nnobles had their gardens near or surrounding their castles. Bayard’s\nCastle, facing the river for centuries, had its gardens, and there were\nspacious gardens within the precincts of the Tower when it was the\nchief royal residence in London, and outside the walls of the City fine\ndwellings and large gardens were clustered together. Among the most\nfamous in the thirteenth century was the Earl of Lincoln’s, purchased\nfrom the Dominicans, when they outgrew their demesn"} -{"id": 24, "text": "e in Holborn, and\nmigrated to the riverside, where their memory ever lives under their\npopular name of the Black Friars. Minute accounts of the expenses\nof this garden are preserved in the Manor Roll, and a very fairly\naccurate picture of what it was can be pieced together. The chief\nflowers in it were roses, and the choicest to be found at that date,\nthe sweet-scented double red “rosa gallica,” would be in profusion.\nIt might be that, in the shady corners of the garden, periwinkle\ntrailed upon the ground, and violets perfumed the air. White Madonna\nlilies reared their stately heads among the clove pinks, lavender, and\nthyme. Peonies, columbines, hollyhocks, honeysuckle, corncockles, and\niris, white, purple, and yellow, made no mean show. The orchard could\nboast of many kinds of pears and apples, cherries and nuts. A piece\nof water described as “the greater ditch”[2] formed the fish stew\nwhere pike were kept and artificially fed. Besides all this, there\nwas a considerable vineyard. It "} -{"id": 25, "text": "was thought a favourable spot for\nvines, and the Bishop of Ely’s vineyard, the site of which is still\nremembered by Vine Street, was hard by. A good deal of imagination is\nnow required to conjure up a picture of a vintage in Holborn. Amid\nthe crowd of cabs, carts, carriages, and omnibuses rolling all day\nover the Viaduct from Oxford Street to the heart of the City, it needs\nas fertile a brain as that of the poet who pictured the vision of\npoor Susan as she listens to the song of the bird in Wood Street to\ncall up such a scene. The gardens sloping down to the “bourne” were\ncarefully enclosed--the Earl of Lincoln’s by strong wooden palings,\nthat of Ely Place by a thorn hedge with wooden gates fitted with keys\nand locks.[3] The inner gardens, that were specially reserved for\nthe Bishop, the great garden and the “grassyard,” were separated by\nrailings and locked doors from the vineyard. The “grassyard” was mown,\nand a tithe of the proceeds from the sale of the grass paid to the\nRector of S"} -{"id": 26, "text": "t. Andrew’s, Holborn. The wine produced was more of the\ncharacter of vinegar, and was also sold; as much as thirty gallons of\nthis “verjuice” was produced in one year. Extra hands were hired to\nweed and dress the vineyard, and apparently the vineyard entailed a\ngood deal of trouble, and for many years it was let. Think of a warm\nday in early autumn, clusters of grapes hanging from the twisted vines,\nmen and women in gay colours carrying baskets of ripe fruit to the\nvats where they were trodden, and the crimson juice squeezed out; the\nmellow rays of the sinking sun light up the high walls and many towers\nof the City, and the distant pile of Westminster is half hidden by the\nmists rising from the river, while there, too, the vintage is in full\nswing, and the song[4] of the grape-gatherers breaks the stillness of\nthe October evening. Away to the north the landscape is bounded by the\nwooded heights of Hampstead and Highgate. Most of the country round\nLondon then was forest land, and in spi"} -{"id": 27, "text": "te of the changes of centuries\na few acres of the original forest remain in Highgate Woods to this\nday, now owned by the Corporation of London. Between the hills and the\ncity on the north-east lay the marshy ground known as Moorfields, for\nsome 800 years the favourite resort of Londoners wishing to take the\nair. Gradually this open space has been built over, although a few\ngreen patches, such as Finsbury Square, the Artillery Ground, or the\nmore distant Bunhill Fields, have remained through the changes time\nhas wrought. This space might have been like one of the other heaths or\ncommons of London, a beautiful open space in the heart of the town, but\nthe supposed exigencies of modern civilisation, with the usual want of\nforesight, have banished the life-giving fresh air, and the Corporation\nof London has had to go far afield, to Burnham Beeches and Epping\nForest, to supply what once was at its door. Literally at its door,\nas the busy street of Moorgate recalls the Mayor, Thomas Falconer "} -{"id": 28, "text": "by\nname, who in 1415 “caused the wall of the citie to be broken neere unto\nColeman Street, and there builded a posterne now called _Moorgate_,\nupon the Mooreside, where was never gate before. This gate he made for\nease of the citizens, that way to passe upon cawseys into the Field\nfor their recreation.”[5] The fields in question were at that time a\nmarsh, and though some fifty years later “dikes and bridges” were made,\nit was many years before the whole moor was drained. The task at one\ntime seemed so difficult that the chronicler Stowe, in 1598, feared\nthat even if the earth was raised until it was level with the city\nwalls it would be “but little dryer,” such was the “moorish” nature of\nthe ground. Moorfields was the scene of many curious dramas during its\nhistory. It was the great place for displays, sham fights, and sports\nof the citizens. Pepys notes in his Diary, July 26, 1664, that there\nwas much discourse about “the fray yesterday in Moorfields, how the\nbutchers at first did be"} -{"id": 29, "text": "at the weavers (between whom there hath been\never an old competition for mastery), but at last the weavers rallied\nand beat them.” Such scenes were very frequent, and Moorfields for\ngenerations was the theatre of such contests. During the time of the\nGreat Fire, numbers of homeless people camped out there, passing days\nof discomfort and anxiety about their few remaining household goods.\nPepys in his casual way alludes to them: “5th September, ... Into\nMoorefields (our feet ready to burn, walking through the town among hot\ncoles), and find that full of people, and poor wretches carrying their\ngoods there, and everybody keeping his goods together by themselves\n(and a great blessing it is to them that it is fair weather for them to\nkeep abroad night and day); drunk there and paid twopence for a plain\npenny loaf.” The “trained bands” used Moorfields as their exercise\nground, and no doubt the prototype of John Gilpin disported himself\nthere. As the fields were drained after 1527 they became"} -{"id": 30, "text": " more and more\nthe favourite resort of citizens of all ranks. Laid out more as a\npublic garden in 1606, they continued the chief open space of the city\nuntil a few generations ago.\n\nThe garden of the Drapers’ Company was another of the lungs of the\nCity, and the disappearance of the great part of it, also within recent\nyears, is much to be regretted. This land was purchased by the Company\nfrom Henry VIII. after the garden had been made by Thomas Cromwell,\nEarl of Essex, and forfeited on his attainder. His method of increasing\nhis garden was simple enough. He appears to have taken what he wanted\nfrom the citizens adjoining, and his all-powerful position at the\ntime left them without redress. Stowe describes the way this land was\nfilched away. “This house being finished, and having some reasonable\nplot of ground left for a garden, hee caused the pales of the gardens\nadjoining to the north part thereof, on a sudden to be taken doune, 22\nfoot to be measured forth right into the north of ev"} -{"id": 31, "text": "ery man’s ground, a\nline then to be drawn, a trench to be cast, a foundation laid, and an\nhigh bricke wall to be builded. My Father had a garden there, and there\nwas a house standing close to his south pale; this house they loosed\nfrom the ground, and bare upon Rowlers into my Father’s garden 22 foot\nere my Father heard thereof.... No man durst goe to argue the matter,\nbut each man lost his Land.”\n\nIt is difficult to estimate whether the charitable munificence of the\nCompany is altogether as great a public benefit, from a health point\nof view, as retaining some of the garden for public use would have\nbeen. Men are naturally so conservative, that, because they have been\ncontent to talk and do business, and even search for a breath of air,\nin the crowded streets on the hottest summer days, it has probably\nnever occurred to them that a few minutes on a seat under shady trees\nwould have “refreshed their spirits,” and the addition of better air\nimproved their brain powers more effectually. "} -{"id": 32, "text": "The idea of a garden\ncity is such a new one that it is not fair to judge by such standards.\nDistances are now much reduced by electricity above and below ground,\nso that the necessity of crowding business houses together to save\ntime is not so all-important. When the City gardens became built over,\nno doubt the newer and more sanitary conditions were felt amply to\ncompensate for the loss of oxygen given off by the growing plants, and\nthe preservation of air spaces in the midst of crowded centres had not\noccurred to men’s minds.\n\nLondon four or five hundred years ago must indeed have needed its\ngardens. The squalor and dirt of its cramped streets, the noisy\nclamour, the rough and uncouth manners, are unpleasing to realise. The\ncontrast of the little walled gardens, where the women could sit, and\nthe busy men find a little quiet from the noise outside, must indeed\nhave been precious. The profession of a gardener, however, did not\nseem to soften their behaviour, for some of the worst offe"} -{"id": 33, "text": "nders were\ngardeners. So serious did the “scurrility, clamour, and nuisance of\nthe gardeners and their servants,” who sold their fruit and vegetables\nin the market, become, that they disturbed the Austin Friars at their\nprayers in the church hard by, and caused so much annoyance to the\npeople living near, that in 1345 a petition, to have these “gardeners\nof the earls, barons, bishops, and citizens” removed to another part\nof the town, was presented to the Lord Mayor. Later on, gardening\noperations in the City and for six miles round were restricted to\nfreemen and apprentices of the Gardeners’ Company, and the sale of\nvegetables was almost exclusively in their hands. Their guild had power\nto seize and destroy all bad plants, or those exposed for sale by\nunlicensed persons. The Gardeners’ Company, incorporated in 1605, had a\nsecond charter in 1616, and a confirmation of their rights in 1635, and\nit still remains one of the City companies.\n\nAll the smaller householders, even in the crowde"} -{"id": 34, "text": "d parts, continued\nto enjoy their little gardens for many centuries. Even after the\nspoliation of the monasteries, the houses rebuilt on their sites\nhad their little enclosures; and large houses such as Sir William\nPawlet’s, on the ground of the Augustine monastery, or later on Sir\nChristopher Hatton’s on Ely Place, had their gardens around them.\nEven now, in the heart of London, a small row of shabby old houses\nsurvives, each with a small garden attached to it. These are called\nNevill Court, from the site having been within the precincts owned by\nRalph Nevill, Bishop of Chichester, Chancellor in the time of Henry\nIII., who built a great palace near here. One of the row belongs to the\nMoravian Mission, or United Brothers, a sect who trace their origin to\nJohn Huss. They settled in this house in 1737. This old-world corner\nopens out of Fetter Lane. A small wooden paling separates the minute\nstrips of blackened garden from a narrow paved pathway. There were\nmany such gardens in this loca"} -{"id": 35, "text": "lity less than a century ago. Charles\nLamb, when aged six, went to school to a Mr. Bird in Bond Stables,\noff Fetter Lane, now vanished; and, returning to the spot in 1825, he\nrecalled the early associations: “The school-room stands where it did,\nlooking into a discoloured, dingy garden.... Oh, how I remember ...\nthe truant looks side-long to the garden, which seemed a mockery of\nour imprisonment.” Would that some antiquarian millionaire--if such a\ncombination exists!--might take into his head to preserve Nevill Court,\nto restore the houses and renovate the gardens, and preserve this relic\nof Old London, to give future generations some idea of what the smaller\ndwelling-houses in the old city were like. In most districts these\nlittle gardens were the usual appendage to dwelling-houses. Pepys,\nliving in Seething Lane, often mentions his garden. It was there he\nsat with his wife and taught her maid to sing; it was there he watched\nthe flames spreading over the town at the time of the Great"} -{"id": 36, "text": " Fire; and\nin it his money was buried during the scare of the Dutch invasion. So\ncarelessly, indeed, was the money hidden that 100 gold pieces were\nlost, but eventually most of them recovered by sweeping the grass and\nsifting the soil. The natural way in which Pepys mentions how other\npeople--Sir W. Batten and Mrs. Turner--during the Fire buried in their\ncity gardens their wine and other goods they could not send to the\ncountry, that is, Bethnal Green, only shows how general these little\nplots were.\n\nGerard, that delightful old herbalist and gardener to Lord Burghley,\nin Elizabeth’s reign, had his own garden in Holborn. In it flourished\nno less than some 972 varieties of plants, of which he published a\ncatalogue in 1596. His friend and fellow-botanist, L’Obel, whose name\nis best remembered by the familiar genus Lobelia, testified that he\nhad seen all the plants on the list actually growing there. The great\nfaith and skill with which these old gardeners attempted to grow in\nLondon all t"} -{"id": 37, "text": "he newly-acquired floral treasures, from all parts of the\nworld, is truly touching. To make them “denizons of our London gardens”\nwas Gerard’s delight. And this worthy ambition was shared by L’Obel,\nwho looked after Lord Zouche’s garden in Hackney; by John Parkinson,\nauthor of the delightful work on gardening; and later on, the mantle\ndescended to the Tradescants, who had their museum (the nucleus of the\nAshmolean) or “Ark” and garden in Lambeth; by Sir Hans Sloane, who\nestablished the Physic Garden in Chelsea, and numerous others. It is\ncurious to think how many of the plants now familiar everywhere made\ntheir first appearance in London. They were not reared elsewhere and\nbrought to the large shows which are arranged in the metropolis to\nexhibit novelties to the public, but really London-grown. They were\nforeign importations, little seeds or bulbs, sent home to the merchants\ntrading with the Levant, or brought back by enterprising explorers\nfrom the New World and carefully nurtured in"} -{"id": 38, "text": " the London gardens,\nthat the citizens “set such store by.” There were several of these\n“worshipful gentlemen” to whom the introduction of flowers is due, and\nof many a plant Gerard could say with pride, they “are strangers to\nEngland, notwithstanding I have them in my garden.” Most plants were\ngrown for use, but others “we have them,” says Gerard, “in our London\ngardens rather more for toyes of pleasure than any vertues they are\npossessed with.” Some of the first potatoes introduced were grown in\nLondon. Gerard had those in his garden direct from Virginia, and prized\nthem as “a meat for pleasure.” Jerusalem artichokes were brought to\nLondon by him, and grown there in early days (1617). Parkinson also\nhad them, calling them “Potatos of Canada.” Bananas were first seen in\nEngland in Johnson’s the herbalist’s shop in Snow Hill. At a much later\ndate--early in last century--the fuchsia was made known for the first\ntime to Lee, a celebrated gardener, who saw a pot of this attractive\nplant i"} -{"id": 39, "text": "n the window of a house in Wapping, where a sailor had brought\nit as a present to his wife. So attached to it was she, that she only\nparted with it when a sum of eight guineas was offered, besides two of\nthe young rooted cuttings. London can claim so many flowers, it would\nbe tedious to enumerate them all. The first cedars in this country grew\nin the Chelsea Physic Garden, some of the first orchids at Loddige’s\nGarden in Hackney, and many things have emanated from Veitch’s Nursery,\nor the Botanical Gardens in Regent’s Park, or the gardens which used\nto belong to the Royal Horticultural Society in South Kensington. The\nchrysanthemum in early days flourished in Stoke Newington, and one of\nthe very first results of cross-fertilisation, which now forms the\nchief part of scientific garden work, was accomplished by Fairchild, a\nfamous nurseryman at Hoxton, who died in 1730.\n\nThis same Thomas Fairchild left a bequest for a sermon, to be\npreached annually on Whit Tuesday, at St. Leonard’s, Sho"} -{"id": 40, "text": "reditch,\non “the Wonderful Works of God in the Creation,” which is still\ndelivered, often by most excellent preachers, but to a sadly small\nand unappreciative congregation. Every opportunity ought to be taken\nto awaken the interest in these wonders of creation in the vegetable\nkingdom, and so much might be done in London Parks. They are too\nfrequently merely places of recreation, and until recently but little\nhas been attempted to arouse enthusiasm for the beauties of nature,\nand to make them instructive as well as attractive. Even in the\ncrowded heart of London a great deal could be effected, and it is a\nsatisfaction to feel that attention is being drawn to the subject and\nan effort being made in the right direction. In the summer of 1906 a\n“Country in Town Exhibition” was held in Whitechapel. This novel idea\nwas so successful, and met with such appreciation, that 33,250 people\nvisited the exhibition during the fortnight it was open, besides the\nhundreds that collected to see H.R.H. P"} -{"id": 41, "text": "rincess Christian perform the\nopening ceremony. The available space of the Whitechapel Art Gallery\nwas filled with plants that would thrive in London; the Office of\nWorks arranged a demonstration of potting; bees at work, aquaria,\nspecimens dried by children or drawn in the schools, growing specimens\nof British plants, such as the dainty bee-orchis, plants and window\nboxes grown in the district, and such-like, made up the exhibits.\nLectures were organised on plant life and nature in London which were\nlargely attended. A series of drawings and plans of the Mile End Road\nand Shadwell, as they are, and as they might be, were prepared, and\nthe cost of such transformations was worked out. These were exhibited\nin the hopes of awakening the interest of the Corporation who owns\nthe site of the disused market in Shadwell, and of causing more to be\ndone in the Mile End Road. It appears that with a comparatively small\nexpenditure and ultimate loss, these plans could be realised, and the\nphysical "} -{"id": 42, "text": "and moral conditions of the whole neighbourhood improved.\n\nEvery year it is further to get into the country from the centres\nof population, and the necessity of improving existing open spaces\nbecomes all the greater. By improving it is not meant to suggest that\nwhat are sometimes called improvements should be carried out; grander\nband-stands, handsome railings, more asphalt paths or stiff concrete\nponds. No, it is only more intelligent planting, grouping for artistic\neffect, and arranging to demonstrate the wonders of nature in spaces\nalready in existence, and to suggest what could be done to cheer and\nbrighten the dark spots of the city.\n\nThe country round London has always been a good district for wild\nflowers; the varied soils, aspects, and levels all go to make it\na propitious spot for botanising. Many places now covered with\nstreets were a few generations ago a mass of wild flowers. The older\nherbalists--Gerard, Johnson, and their friends--used to search the\nneighbourhood of Londo"} -{"id": 43, "text": "n for floral treasures, and incidentally in\ntheir works the names of these friends, such as Mr. James Clarke and\nMr. Thomas Smith, “Apothecaries of London,” and their “search for rare\nplants” are mentioned. Gerard was constantly on the watch, and records\nplants seen in the quaintest places, such as the water-radish, which\nhe says grew “in the joints or chincks amongst mortar of a stone wall\nthat bordereth upon the river Thames by the Savoy in London, which yee\ncannot finde but when the tide is much spent.” Pennyroyal “was found\non the common near London called Miles ende,” “from whence poore women\nbring plentie to sell in London markets.” The rare adders-tongue and\ngreat wild valerian grew in damp meadows, the fields abounded with all\nthe more common wild flowers, and such choice things as the pretty\nlittle “ladies’ tresses,” grew on the common near Stepney, while\nbutcher’s broom, cow wheat, golden rod, butterfly orchis, lilies of the\nvalley and royal fern, wortleberries and bilberries"} -{"id": 44, "text": " covered the heaths\nand woods of Hampstead and Highgate. Many another flower is recorded by\nGerard, who must have had a keen and observant eye which could spot a\nrare water-plant in a ditch while attending an execution at Tyburn! yet\nhe meekly excuses his want of knowledge of where a particular hawkweed\ngrew, saying, “I meane, God willing, better to observe heerafter, as\noportunitie shall serve me.” That power of observation is a gift to\nbe fostered and encouraged, and were that achieved by education in\nCouncil Schools, a great success would have been scored, and probably\nit would be more fruitful in the child’s after life than the scattered\ncrumbs from countless subjects with which the brain is bewildered.\nThe wild flowers could still be enticed within the County of London,\nand species, which used to make their homes within its area, might be\ninduced at least to visit some corners of its parks. The more dingy\nthe homes of children are, the more necessary it must be to bring what\nis si"} -{"id": 45, "text": "mple, pure, and elevating to their minds, and modern systems\nof teaching are realising this. If public gardens can be brought to\nlend their aid in the actual training, as well as being a playground,\nthey will serve a twofold purpose. An old writer quaintly puts this\ninfluence of plant life. “Flowers through their beautie, varietie of\ncolour and exquisite forme, do bring to a liberall and gentle manly\nmind, the remembrance of honestie, comelinesse, and all kindes of\nvertues. For it would be an unseemly and filthie thing, as a certain\nwise man saith, for him that doth looke upon and handle faire and\nbeautifull things, and who frequenteth and is conversant in faire and\nbeautifull places, to have his mind not faire but filthie and deformed.”\n\nIt is not possible for all London children to get into the country\nnow that it is further away, so the more of nature, as well as true\nartistic gardening, they can be shown in the parks the better. It used\nin olden days to be the custom, among other M"} -{"id": 46, "text": "ay Day revels, to go out\nto the country round London and enjoy the early spring as the Arabs do\nat the present time, when they have the fête of “Shem-en-Nazim,” or\n“Smelling the Spring.” “On May day in the morning, every man, except\nimpediment, would walk into the Sweet Meddowes and green woods, there\nto rejoyce their spirits with the beauty and Savour of sweet Flowers,\nand with the harmonie of Birdes, praising God in their kinde.”[6] It\nwould surprise many people to learn how many birds still sing their\npraises within the parks of London, although the meadows and other\ndelights have vanished. This serves to encourage the optimist in\nbelieving in the future possibilities of London Parks.\n\nThere is no “park system” in England as in the United States of\nAmerica, where each town provides, in addition to its regular lines of\nstreets, and its main thoroughfares leading straight from the centre\nto the more suburban parts, a complete system of parks. The more\nold-fashioned town of Boston was "} -{"id": 47, "text": "behind the rest, although it contained\na few charming public gardens in the heart of the town. Of late years\nlarge tracts of low-lying waste grounds have been filled up, and one\npiece connected with another, until it, too, rejoices in a complete\n“park system.” Chicago, Pittsburgh, and all these modern towns of\nrapid growth possess a well-ordered “park system.” The conditions, the\nnatural aspect of the country, and the climate are so unlike our own\nthat no comparison is fair. Like everything else in the United States,\nthey are on a large scale, and while there is much to admire, and\nsomething to learn, there is very little in the points in which they\ndiffer from us that could be imitated. London parks and open spaces,\ntaken as a whole, are unrivalled. The history and associations which\ncluster round each and all of them, would fill volumes if recorded\nfacts were adhered to; and if the imagination were allowed to run riot\nwithin the range of possibility, there would be no limit. Things w"} -{"id": 48, "text": "hich\nhave grown gradually as circumstances changed can have no system. Their\nvariety and irregularity is their charm, and no description of either\nthe parks, gardens, or open spaces of London can be given as a whole.\nEach has its own associations, its own history, and to glance at some\nof London’s bright spots and tell their stories will be the endeavour\nof these pages.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nHYDE PARK\n\n _The Park shone brighter than the skyes,\n Sing tan-tara-rara-tantivee,\n With jewels and gold, and Ladies’ eyes,\n That sparkled and cry’d come see me:\n Of all parts of England, Hide Park hath the name,\n For coaches and Horses and Persons of fame,\n It looked at first sight, like a field full of flame,\n Which made me ride up tan-tivee._\n\n --NEWS FROM HIDE PARK, an old ballad, _c._ 1670.\n\n\nIn writing about London Parks the obvious starting-point seems to\nbe the group comprising Hyde, Green, and St. James’s Parks, which\nare so intimately conne"} -{"id": 49, "text": "cted with London life to-day, and have a past\nteeming with interest. What changes some of those elms have witnessed!\nGeneration after generation of the world of fashion have passed beneath\ntheir shades. Dainty ladies with powder and patches have smiled at\ntheir beaux, perhaps concealing aching hearts by a light and careless\ngaiety. Stately coaches and prancing horsemen have passed along. Crowds\nof enthusiasts for various causes have aired their grievances on the\ngreen turf. Brilliant reviews and endless parades have taken place\non the wide open spaces; games and races have amused thousands of\nspectators. In still earlier times there was many a day’s good sport\nafter the deer, or many a busy hour’s ploughing the abbey lands of\nthe then Manor of Hyde. Scene after scene can be pictured down to the\npresent time, when, after centuries of change, the enjoyment of these\nParks remains perhaps one of the most treasured privileges of the\nLondoner.\n\nIn tracing the history of their various phases,"} -{"id": 50, "text": " the survival of many\nfeatures is as remarkable as the disappearance of others. The present\nlimits on the north and east, Bayswater Road and Park Lane, have\nsuffered no substantial alteration since the roads were known as the\nVia Trimobantina and the Watling Street in Roman times. The Watling\nStreet divided, and one section followed the course of the present\nOxford Street to the City; the other, passing down the line of Park\nLane, crossed St. James’s Park, and so to the ford over the Thames at\nWestminster. The Park was never common or waste land, but must have\nbeen cleared and cultivated in very early times. In Domesday Survey\nthe Manor was in plough and pasture land, with various “villains” and\npeasants living on it. The Thames was the southern boundary of the\nManor of “Eia,” which was divided into three parts, one being Hyde, the\nsite of the existing Hyde Park, the other two Ebury and Neate. Although\nnow forgotten, the latter name was familiar for many centuries. When\nowned by the Ab"} -{"id": 51, "text": "bots of Westminster, the Manor House by the riverside\nwas of some importance, and John of Gaunt stayed there. Famous\nnurseries and a tea garden, “the Neate houses,” marked the spot in the\neighteenth century.\n\nUntil the stormy days of the Reformation these lands remained much\nthe same. Owned by the Abbey of Westminster, they were probably well\ncultivated by their tenants, and doubtless the game with which they\nabounded from early times afforded the Abbot some pleasant days’ sport\nand tasty meals. The first time any of the Manor became part of the\nroyal demesne, was when the Abbot Islip exchanged 100 acres of what\nis now St. James’s Park, adjoining the royal lands, for Poughley in\nBerkshire, with Henry VIII. in 1531–2. This Abbot, who had an ingenious\ndevice to represent his name--a human eye and a cutting or “slip” of a\ntree--died in the Manor House of Neate or Neyte the same year. He gave\nup the lands from Charing Cross “unto the Hospital of St. James in the\nfields” (now St. James’s Pa"} -{"id": 52, "text": "lace), and the meadows between the Hospital\nand Westminster. Five years later, when the upheaval of the dissolution\nof the monasteries was taking place, the monks of Westminster were\nforced to take the lands of the Priory of Hurley--one of their own\ncells just dissolved--in exchange for the rest of the manor. Henry\nVIII., who loved sport, found these lands first-rate hunting-ground.\nFrom his palace at Westminster, through Hyde Park, right away to\nHampstead, he had an almost uninterrupted stretch of country, where\nhares and herons, pheasants and partridges, could be pursued and\npreserved “for his own disport and pastime.” Hyde Park was enclosed, or\n“substancially empayled,” as an old writer states, and a large herd of\ndeer kept there, and various proclamations show that the right of sport\nhad to be jealously guarded.\n\nWhat a gay scene must Hyde Park have often witnessed in Elizabeth’s\nreign. The Queen, when not actually joining in the chase, watched\nthe proceedings from the hunting pavi"} -{"id": 53, "text": "lion, or “princelye standes\ntherein,” and feasted the guests in the banqueting-house. There were\nbrilliantly caparisoned horses, men and women in costly velvets and\nbrocades, stiff frills, plumed hats and embroidered gloves. Picture the\n_cortège_ entering by the old lodge, where now is Hyde Park Corner, the\nhonoured guest, for whom the day’s sport was inaugurated--such as John\nCasimir, son of the Elector Palatine, who showed his skill by killing a\nparticular deer out of a herd of 300--surrounded by some of his foreign\nattendants, and escorted by all the court gallants of the day.\n\nThe Park must then have been as wild as the New or Sherwood Forests of\nto-day. The tall trees, with their sturdy stems, were then untouched by\nsmoky air, the sylvan glades and pasture lands had no distant vistas\nof houses and chimneys to spoil their rural aspect, while far off the\npile of the buildings of Westminster Abbey--without the conspicuous\ntowers, which were not finished till 1714--might be seen risin"} -{"id": 54, "text": "g beyond\nthe swamps and fens of St. James’s Park. Hyde Park on a May evening\neven now is still beautiful, if looked at from the eastern side across\na golden mist, against which the dark trees stand up mysteriously, when\na glow of sunset light seems to transform even ragged little Cockney\nchildren into fairies. It wants but little imagination to see that same\ngolden haze peopled with huntsmen, and to hear the sound of the horn\ninstead of the roar of carriages.\n\nThe next scene which can be brought vividly before the mind’s eye is\nvery different from the last pageant. These are troublous times. The\nmonarch and his courtiers are occupied in far other pursuits than\nhunting deer. Charles I. was fighting in the vain endeavour to keep his\nthrone, and Londoners were preparing to defend the city. Hyde Park and\nGreen Park became the theatre of warlike operations. Forts were raised\nand trenches were dug. Two small forts, one on Constitution Hill and\none near the present Mount Street in Hyde Park, "} -{"id": 55, "text": "were made, but the more\nimportant were those on the present sites of the Marble Arch and of\nHamilton Place. The energy displayed on the occasion is described by\nButler in “Hudibras,” and the part taken by women in the work. Like the\n“sans culottes” of the French Revolution, they helped with their own\nhands.\n\n “Women, who were our first apostles,\n Without whose aid w’ had all been lost else;\n\n * * * * *\n\n March’d rank and file, with drum and ensign,\n T’ entrench the city for defence in;\n Rais’d rampires with their own soft hands,\n To put the enemy to stands;\n From ladies down to oyster-wenches\n Labour’d like pioneers in trenches,\n Fell to their pickaxes and tools,\n And helped the men to dig like moles.”\n\n --BUTLER’S “_Hudibras_.”\n\nThe picture of their sombre garments, neat-fitting caps, and severe\nfaces, the close-cropped hair and stern looks of the men, working with\nbusiness-li"} -{"id": 56, "text": "ke determination, stands out a striking contrast to the gay\ncolours and cheerful looks of the company engaged in the chase.\n\nThe darker trees and sheltered corners of Hyde Park afforded covert\nfor the wary “Roundhead” to lie in ambush for the imprudent Loyalist\ncarrying letters to the King. On more than one occasion the success was\non his side, and the bearer of news to his royal master was waylaid,\nand the papers secured. The culminating scene of this period must\nhave been when Fairfax and the Parliamentary army marched through Hyde\nPark in 1647, and were met by the solemn procession of the Mayor and\nSheriffs of the City of London.\n\nDismal days for the Parks followed. Although the Parks had been\ndeclared the property of the Commonwealth, it was from no wish to\nuse them for sport or recreation. During the latter years of Charles\nthe First’s reign Hyde Park had become somewhat of a fashionable\nresort. People came to enjoy the air and meet their friends, and it\nwas less exclusively reser"} -{"id": 57, "text": "ved for hunting. Races took place, both\nfoot and horse; crowds collected to witness them, and ladies, with\ntheir attendant cavaliers, drove there in coaches, and refreshed\nthemselves at the “Cake House” with syllabubs. This latter was the\nfavourite drink, made of milk or cream whipped up with sugar and\nwine or cider. But the Puritan spirit, which was rapidly asserting\nitself, soon interfered with such harmless amusements. In 1645 the\nParks were ordered to be shut on the Lord’s Day, also on fast and\nthanksgiving days. In 1649 the Parks, together with Windsor, Hampton\nCourt, Greenwich, and Richmond, were declared to be the property of\nthe Commonwealth, and thrown open to the public. But this did not lead\nto greater public enjoyment of Hyde Park. Far from it, for only three\nyears later it was put up to auction in three lots. The first lot was\nthe part bounded on one side by the present Bayswater Road, and is\ndescribed as well wooded; the second, the Kensington side, was chiefly\npasture; t"} -{"id": 58, "text": "he third, another well-wooded division, included the lodge\nand banqueting-house and the Ring where the races took place. This part\nwas valued at more than double the two others, and was purchased by\nAnthony Dean, a ship-builder, for £9020, 8s. 2d. This business-like\ngentleman presumably reserved the use of the timber for his ships,\nand let out the pasture. His tenant proceeded to make as much as he\ncould, and levied a toll on all carriages coming into the Park. On some\noccasions he extorted 2s. 6d. from each coach. In 1653 John Evelyn in\nhis diary complains on April 11 that he “went to take the aire in Hide\nPark, when every coach was made to pay a shilling, and every horse\nsixpence, by the sordid fellow who had purchas’d it of the State, as\nthey were call’d.” Cromwell himself was fond of riding in the Park, and\ncrowds thronged him as he galloped round the Ring. More than one plot\nwas made against the life of Cromwell, and the Park was considered a\nlikely place in which to succeed. On o"} -{"id": 59, "text": "ne occasion the would-be assassin\njoined the crowd, which pursued the Protector during his ride, ready,\nif at any moment he galloped beyond the people, to dash at him with\na fatal blow. The plotter had carefully filed the Park gate off its\nhinges so as to make good his own escape. It is a curious fact that\nCromwell more nearly met his death in Hyde Park by accident than by\ndesign. He was presented with some fine grey Friesland horses, by the\nDuke of Holstein, and insisted on driving the spirited animals himself.\nThey bolted, he was thrown from the box, and his pistol went off in his\npocket, “though without any hurt to himself”!\n\nThe Ring, where all these performances took place, was situated to the\nnorth-east of where the Humane Society’s house, built in 1834, now\nstands, near the Serpentine. There are a few remains of very large\nelm trees still to be seen, which probably shaded some of the company\nassembled to watch the coaches driving round and round the Ring, or\ncheer the winner of "} -{"id": 60, "text": "a hotly-contested race. Even during the sombre\ndays of the Commonwealth sports took place in the Park, but with the\nRestoration it became much more the resort of all the fashionable\nworld and the scene of many more amusements. The parks were still in\nthose days for the Court and the wealthy or well-to-do citizens only.\nProbably to many of the rabble and poorer Londoners the nearest view\nobtained of Hyde Park would be the tall trees within its fence or\nwall, which formed a background to the revolting but most engrossing\nof popular sights, the horrors of the gallows at Tyburn. The idea of\ngiving parks as recreation grounds for the poor is such a novel one\nthat no old writer would think of noticing their absence in an age when\nbull-baiting and cock fights were their highest form of amusement.\n\nThe Ring was an enclosure with a railing round it and a wide road. It\nis described as “a ring railed in, round w^{ch} a gravel way, yt would\nadmitt of twelve if not more rowes of Coaches, w^{ch} the"} -{"id": 61, "text": " Gentry to\ntake the aire and see each other Comes and drives round and round; one\nrow going Contrary to each other affords a pleaseing diversion.”\n\nThe gay companies who assembled to drive round and round the Ring, or\nwatch races, sometimes met with unusual excitement. On one occasion\nHind, a famous highwayman, for a wager rode into the Ring and robbed a\ncoach of a bag of money. He was hotly pursued across the Park, but made\nhis escape, “riding by St. James’s,” which then, and until a much later\ndate, was a sanctuary, and no one except a traitor could be arrested\nwithin it. So narrow an escape from justice did he have that he is said\nto have exclaimed, “I never earned £100 so dear in all my life!”\n\nNumberless entries in Pepys’ Diary describe visits to Hyde Park. His\ndrives there in fine and wet weather, the company he met, whether his\nwife looked well or was in a good or ill temper, and the latest gossip\nthe outing afforded, are all noted. Many times he regrets not having a\ncoach of hi"} -{"id": 62, "text": "s own, and does not conceal the feelings of wounded pride\nit occasioned. Once he naïvely explains that having taken his wife and\na friend to the Park “in a hackney,” and they not in smart clothes,\nhe “was ashamed to go into the tour [Ring], but went round the Park,\nand so, with pleasure, home.” His delight when he possessed a coach is\nunbounded. He made frequent visits to the coach-builder, and watched\nthe final coat of varnish to “make it more and more yellow,” and at\nlast on May Day, 1669, he describes his first appearance in his own\ncarriage: “At noon home to dinner, and there find my wife extraordinary\nfine with her flowered tabby gown that she made two years ago, now\nlaced exceeding pretty, and indeed was fine all over, and mighty\nearnest to go; though the day was very lowering; and she would have me\nput on my fine suit, which I did. And so anon, we went alone through\nthe town with our new liveries of serge and the horses’ manes and tails\ntied with red ribbons, and the standards g"} -{"id": 63, "text": "ilt with varnish, and all\nclean, and green reines, that people did mightily look upon us; and\nthe truth is I did not see any coach more pretty, though more gay than\nours, all that day ... the day being unpleasing though the Park full\nof Coaches, but dusty, and windy, and cold, and now and then a little\ndribbling of rain; and what made it worse, there were so many hackney\ncoaches as spoiled the sight of the gentlemen’s, and so we had little\npleasure. But here was Mr. Batelier and his sister in a borrowed coach\nby themselves, and I took them and we to the lodge: and at the door\ndid give them a syllabub and other things, cost me 12s. and pretty\nmerry.”\n\nWhat an amusing picture, not only of Hyde Park in 1669 but of human\nnature of all time!--the start, the pride and delight with their\nnew acquisition, the little annoyances, the marred pleasures, the\nungenerous dislike of the less fortunate who could not afford coaches\nof their own, whose ranks he had swelled the very last drive he had\ntake"} -{"id": 64, "text": "n. Then the little kindness and the refreshment, so that the story\nends merrily.\n\nThe “Lodge” is but another name for the “Cheese-cake House” or “Cake\nHouse,” or as it was sometimes called from the proprietor, the Gunter\nof those days, “Price’s Lodge.” This house, which was a picturesque\nfeature, stood near the Ring, on the site of the present building\nof the Humane Society, and must have been the scene of many amusing\nincidents in the lives of those who graced the Ring, in the seventeenth\nand eighteenth centuries. A little stream ran in front of it, and the\ndoor was approached over planks. White with beams of timber, latticed\nwindows, and gabled roof, a few flowers clustering near, with the\nwater flowing by its walls, the old house gave a special charm and\nrural flavour to the tarts and cheesecakes and syllabub with which the\ncompany regaled themselves.\n\nThe gay sights and sounds in Hyde Park were silenced during those\nterrible weeks, when the Great Plague spread death and destruction"} -{"id": 65, "text": "\nthrough London. As the summer advanced, and the havoc became more\nand more appalling, many of the soldiers quartered in the city, were\nmarched out to encamp in Hyde Park. At first it seemed as if they would\nescape the deadly scourge, but the men were not accustomed to the\nrough quarters, and soon succumbed.\n\n “Our men (ere long) began to droop and quail,\n Our lodgings cold, and some not us’d thereto,\n Fell sick, and dy’d, and made us more adoe.\n At length the Plague amongst us ’gan to spread,\n When ev’ry morning some were found stark dead;\n Down to another field the sick we t’ane,\n But few went down that e’er came up again.”\n\nThus all through the autumn of that terrible year the Park was one of\nthe fields of battle against the relentless foe. The contemporary poet,\nwhose lines have been quoted, describes the return of the few saddened\nsurvivors to the “doleful” city. They had lingered through the cold and\nwet until December, and surely the Park has no"} -{"id": 66, "text": " passage in its history\nmore piteous and depressing than the advent of those frightened men who\ncame with “heavy hearts,” “fearing the Almighty’s arrows,” only to be\novertaken by the terror in their plague-stricken camp.\n\nHyde Park has witnessed other gloomy pictures from time to time.\nAlthough the colouring of fashion and romance has endeavoured to\nmake these incidents less repulsive, duels cannot be otherwise than\ndistressing to the modern sense. For generations Hyde Park was a\nfavourite place in which to settle affairs of honour. The usual\nspot is described by Fielding in “Amelia.” The combatants walked up\nConstitution Hill and into Hyde Park “to that place which may properly\nbe called the Field of Blood, being that part a little to the left of\nthe Ring, which Heroes have chosen for the scene of their exit out of\nthis World.” One of the most famous duels was that fought between Lord\nMohun and the Duke of Hamilton on November 15, 1712, which resulted\nin the death of both the combatan"} -{"id": 67, "text": "ts--the Duke, whose loss was a great\nblow to the Jacobite cause in Scotland, and the Whig opponent. All\nthrough the eighteenth century Hyde Park was frequently the place in\nwhich disputes were settled, and one of the last duels recorded, which\nresulted in the death of Captain Macnamara (his antagonist, Colonel\nMontgomery, being tried for manslaughter, but acquitted), although\nfought on Primrose Hill, originated in Hyde Park. The cause of quarrel\nwas that the dogs of these two gentlemen fought while out with them in\nthe Park, whereupon the respective masters used such abusive language\nto each other that the affair had to be settled by a duel.\n\nMilitary displays, for which Hyde Park is still famous, have taken\nplace there from early times. The works of defence were thrown up,\nand Fairfax and the Parliamentary army arrived there in the times of\ncivil strife, but soon after the Restoration Charles II. had a peaceful\ndemonstration, and there reviewed his Life Guards. Again, in September\n166"} -{"id": 68, "text": "8, there was a more brilliant review, when the Duke of Monmouth took\ncommand of the Life Guards, and the King and Duke of York were both\npresent. Pepys was there, and wrote, “It was mighty noble, and their\nfiring mighty fine, and the Duke of Monmouth in mighty rich clothes;\nbut the well ordering of the men I understand not.”\n\nWhen, in 1715, the fear of a general Jacobite rising induced the Whigs\nto take serious precautions, Hyde Park became a camp from July till\nNovember. During a similar scare in 1722 troops were again quartered\nthere, and the camp became the centre of popular attraction; gaiety\nand frivolity were the order of the day, rather than business or\nwatchfulness. The Park was also used as a camp for six regiments of\nmilitia at the time of the Gordon Riots in 1780. All through George\nIII.’s long reign reviews were frequent, and one of the most popular\nwas that held by the Prince Regent before the allied sovereigns, the\nEmperor of Russia and King of Prussia, in June 1814. Blüc"} -{"id": 69, "text": "her was the\npopular hero on the occasion, and when he afterwards appeared in the\nPark he was so mobbed by the crowd, enthusiastic to see something of\n“Forwärts,” as he was familiarly named, that he had to defend himself\nagainst their rough treatment.\n\nWhen the Park was again in the King’s hands after the Restoration,\na Keeper was once more appointed, who was responsible for its\nmaintenance. From the time of Henry VIII. various well-known people had\nfilled the office of Keeper. The first in Henry VIII.’s time was George\nRoper, succeeded in 1553 by Francis Nevill, and in 1574 by Henry Carey,\nfirst Lord Hunsdon, while in 1607 Robert Cecil, Earl of Salisbury, was\nappointed, and Sir Walter Cope held the office conjointly with him\nfrom 1610. The name of the first Keeper after the Restoration, James\nHamilton, is well remembered by the site of his house and ground,\nwhich are still known as Hamilton Place and Gardens. He was allowed to\nenclose 55 acres of park, and to use it as an orchard on th"} -{"id": 70, "text": "e condition\nthat he sent a certain quantity of the cider produced from it to the\nKing. In his time a brick wall was built round the Park, and it was\nre-stocked with deer. The wall was rebuilt in 1726, and not replaced by\nrailings until a hundred years later. These iron railings were pulled\ndown by the mob in 1866, after which the present ones were set up.\nThe deer, which formerly ranged all over the Park, were in course of\ntime confined to a small area on the north-west side, called Buckdean\nHill. They were kept for sport during the first half of the eighteenth\ncentury, and the last time royalty took part in killing deer in the\nPark was probably in 1768. The exact date of the disappearance of all\nthe deer is difficult to ascertain. They are remembered by some who saw\nthem towards the end of the thirties, but by 1840 or soon after they\nwere done away with.\n\nThe roads in Hyde Park must have been rather like South African tracks\nat the present day, and driving at night was not free from d"} -{"id": 71, "text": "anger\neven at a comparatively late date. Attacks from highwaymen were to be\nfeared. Horace Walpole was robbed in November 1749, and the pistol shot\nwas near enough to stun though not otherwise to injure him. The Duke\nof Grafton had his collar bone broken, and his coachman his leg, some\nten years earlier, when, on his way from Kensington to “the New Gate\nto make some visits towards Grosvenor Square, the Chariot through the\ndarkness of the Night was overset in driving along the Road and” fell\n“into a large deep pit.”\n\nSoon after William III. purchased Kensington Palace from the Earl of\nNottingham in 1691, he commenced making a new road through the Park.\nThis became known as the King’s Road, or “Route du Roi”: a corruption\nof the latter is Rotten Row, the name now given to King William’s\nDrive. In the eighteenth century it was called the King’s Old Road, and\nthe one which George II. made to the south of it was called the King’s\nNew Road. When this was finished in 1737, it was intended to "} -{"id": 72, "text": "turf the\nolder “Rotten Row,” but this plan was never carried out. The old road\nwas much thought of at the time it was made, and the lighting of it up\nat night with 300 lamps caused wonder to all beholders.\n\nA young lady, Celia Fiennes, describes the road in her diary about\n1695. “Y^e whole length of this parke there is a high Causey of a good\nbreadth, 3 Coaches may pass, and on each side are Rowes of posts on\nw^{ch} are glasses--Cases for Lamps w^{ch} are Lighted in y^e Evening\nand appeares very fine as well as safe for y^e passenger. This is\nonly a private roade y^e King had w^{ch} reaches to Kensington, where\nfor aire our Great King W^{m.} bought a house and filled it for a\nRetirement w^{th} pretty gardens.”\n\nThe road was in bad repair before the new one was in good order, and\nLord Hervey, writing in 1736, says it had grown “so infamously bad” as\nto form “a great impassable gulf of mud” between London and Kensington\nPalace. “There are two ways through the Park, but the new one is so\n"} -{"id": 73, "text": "convex, and the old one is so concave, that by this extreme of faults\nthey agree in the common of being, like the high road, impassable.”\n\nOne of the most striking features of Hyde Park to-day is the long sheet\nof water known as the “Serpentine,” but this was a comparatively late\naddition to the attractions of the Park. From earliest times there was\nwater. The deer came down to drink at pools supplied by fresh springs.\nThe stream of the West Bourne flowed across the Park from north to\nsouth, leaving it near the present Albert Gate. Near there it was\nspanned by a bridge, from which the hamlet of Knightsbridge derived its\nname. The water in the Park was used to supply the West End of London\nas houses began to be built further from the City, and Chelsea was also\nsupplied from it. The Dean and Chapter of Westminster had a right to\nthe use of the water from the springs in the Park, and the history of\ntheir privilege is recorded on a stone which stands above “the Dell”\non the north-east of t"} -{"id": 74, "text": "he bridge across the end of the Serpentine. The\ninscription states that a supply of water by a conduit was granted\nto the Abbey of Westminster by Edward the Confessor, and the further\nhistory of the lands, which passed into Henry VIII.’s hands at a time\nwhen all church property was in peril of seizure, is neatly glossed\nover as the “manor was resumed by the Crown in 1536.” The use of the\nsprings, however, was retained by the Abbey, and confirmed to them by\na charter of Elizabeth in 1560. Later on the privilege was withdrawn,\nand in 1663 the Chelsea Waterworks were granted the use of all the\nstreams and springs of Hyde Park. They made in 1725 a reservoir on the\neast side of the Park, opposite Mount Street. The sunk garden, with\nthe Dolphin Fountain, the statue in Carrara marble, and the basin of\nSicilian marble, by A. Munro, was made in 1861 on the site of this\nreservoir, which was abandoned two years earlier. It has been stated\nthat this sunk garden was a remnant of the forts of Cromwe"} -{"id": 75, "text": "ll’s time,\none small one having been near here, but the history of the Chelsea\nWaterworks reservoir must have been unknown to those who believed the\ntradition. It contained a million and a half gallons of water, and\nwas protected by a wall and railings, as suicides were once said to\nhave been frequent. When the Serpentine was made by Queen Caroline,\nconsiderable compensation had to be paid to the Waterworks Company.\n\n[Illustration: DOLPHIN FOUNTAIN, HYDE PARK]\n\nIn this age of experiments in plant growing, when American writers glow\nwith enthusiasm on the wonders of the “New Earth,” and when science\nhas transformed the dullest operations of farming and gardening\ninto fields for enterprise and treasuries of possible discoveries,\nit is humiliating to find the water in Hyde Park being used for like\nexperiments as long ago as 1691–92. Stephen Switzer, a gardener,\nwho would have been described by his contemporaries as a “lover of\ningenuities,” was fond of indulging in speculations, and studi"} -{"id": 76, "text": "ed\nthe effect of water on plants. He quotes a series of experiments\nmade by Dr. Woodward on growing plants entirely in water, or with\ncertain mixtures. For fifty-two days during the summer of 1692 he\ncarefully watched some plants of spearmint, which were all “the most\nkindly, fresh, sprightly Shoots I could chuse,” and were set in water\npreviously weighed. For this trial he selected “Hyde Park Conduit\nwater”--one pure, another had an ounce and a half of common garden\nearth added to it, a third was given an equal quantity of garden mould,\nand a fourth was kept on “Hyde Park water distilled.” The results in\ngrowth, and the quantity of water absorbed, were carefully noted at the\nend of the time.\n\n[Illustration: DOLPHIN FOUNTAIN IN HYDE PARK]\n\nWhen Queen Caroline conceived the idea of throwing the ponds in Hyde\nPark into one, and making a sheet of water, the school of “natural” or\n“landscape” gardening was becoming the rage. Bridgeman, a well-known\ngarden designer, who had charge of the ro"} -{"id": 77, "text": "yal gardens, has the credit\nof having invented the “ha-ha” or sunk fence, and thus led the way for\nmerging gardens into parks. Kent, who followed him, went still further.\nHe, Horace Walpole said, “leaped the fence, and saw that all Nature was\na garden.” The fashions in garden design soon change, and the work of\na former generation is quickly obliterated. William III. brought with\nhim the fashion of Dutch gardening, and laid out Kensington Gardens in\nthat style. Switzer, writing twenty-five years later, says the fault of\nthe Dutch gardeners was “the Pleasure Gardens being stuffed too thick\nwith Box”; they “used it to a fault, especially in England, where we\nabound in so much good Grass and Gravel.” London and Wise, very famous\nnursery gardeners, who made considerable changes at Hampton Court,\nand laid out the grounds of half the country seats in England, had\ncharge of Kensington Palace Gardens, and housed the “tender greens”\nduring the winter in their nurseries hard by. These celebrated"} -{"id": 78, "text": " Brompton\nnurseries were so vast that the Kensington plants took up “but little\nroom in comparison with” those belonging to the firm. Queen Mary took\ngreat interest in the new gardens. “This active Princess lost no time,\nbut was either measuring, directing, or ordering her Buildings, but\nin Gard’ning, especially Exoticks, she was particularly skill’d, and\nallowed Dr. Pluknet £200 per ann. for his Assistance therein.” After\nhis queen’s death William III. did no more to the gardens, but they\nwere completed by Queen Anne. She appointed Wise to the chief care\nof the gardens, and when in 1712 rules for the “better keeping Hyde\nPark in good Order” were drawn up, and people were forbidden to leap\nthe fences or ditches, or to ride over the grass, a special exception\nwas made in favour of Henry Wise. Switzer, in tracing the history of\ngardening to his day (1715), praises the “late pious Queen, whose love\nto Gardening was not a little,” for “Rooting up the _Box_, and giving\nan _English_ Model to"} -{"id": 79, "text": " the old-made Gardens at _Kensington_; and in 1704\nmade that new garden behind the Green-House, that is esteemed amongst\nthe most valuable Pieces of Work that has been done any where....\nThe place where that beautiful Hollow now is, was a large irregular\nGravel-pit, which, according to several Designs given in, was to\nhave been filled, but that Mr. Wise prevailed, and has given it that\nsurprizing Model it now appears in. As great a Piece of Work as that\nwhole Ground is, ’twas near all completed in one Season, (viz.) between\nMichaelmas and Lady Day, which demonstrates to what a pitch Gard’ning\nis arrived within these twenty or thirty years.”\n\nWhen William III. purchased Kensington Palace, the grounds covered less\nthan thirty acres. Under the management of Wise, in Queen Anne’s time,\nmore was added, and the Orangery was built in 1705. Few people know the\ncharms of this old building, which stands to the north of the original\ngarden, and which future alterations may once more bring more in"} -{"id": 80, "text": "to\nsight. As the taste for gardening changed from the shut-in gardens of\nthe Dutch style to the more extended plans of Wise, the garden grew\nin size. Again, when Bridgeman was gardener, Queen Caroline, wife of\nGeorge II., wished to emulate the splendour of Versailles, and 300\nacres were taken from Hyde Park to add to the Palace Garden. Bridgeman\nmade the sunk fence which is still the division between Kensington\nGardens and the Park; and with the earth which was taken out a mount\nwas made, on which a summer-house was erected. This stood nearly\nopposite the present end of Rotten Row, and though it has long since\nceased to exist, the gate into the Gardens is still known as the Mount\nGate. Kent, who succeeded Bridgeman, continued the planting of the\navenues and laying out of the Gardens, and the greater part of his\nwork still remains. The Gardens were reduced in size when the road was\nmade from Kensington to Bayswater, and the houses along it built about\nseventy years ago, and the exact si"} -{"id": 81, "text": "ze is now 274 acres. Queen Caroline\nwould have liked to take still more of the Parks for her private use;\nbut when she hinted as much to Walpole, and asked the cost, he voiced\npublic opinion when he replied, “Three crowns.”\n\n[Illustration: FOUNTAINS AT THE END OF THE SERPENTINE]\n\nThe fashion of making sheets of artificial water with curves and\ntwists, instead of a straight, canal-like shape, was just taking the\npublic fancy, when Queen Caroline began the work of converting the\nrather marshy ponds in Hyde Park into a “Serpentine River.” The ponds\nwere of considerable size, and in James I.’s time there were as many\nas eleven large and small. Celia Fiennes, the young lady who kept a\ndiary in the time of William and Mary, which has been already quoted,\nafter describing the Ring, says, “The rest of the park is green, and\nfull of deer; there are large ponds with fish and fowle.” The work\nof draining the ponds and forming a river was begun in October 1730,\nunder the direction of Charles Withe"} -{"id": 82, "text": "rs, Surveyor-General of the Woods\nand Forests. The cost of the large undertaking was supposed to come\nout of the Queen’s privy purse, and it was not until after her death\nthat it was found that Walpole had supplemented it out of the public\nfunds. The West Bourne supplied the new river with sufficient water\nfor some hundred years, after which new arrangements had to be made,\nas the stream had become too foul. The water supply now comes from two\nsources--one a well 400 feet deep at the west end of the Serpentine,\nwhere the formal fountains and basins were made, about 1861, in front\nof the building of Italian design covering the well. The sculptured\nvases and balustrade with sea-horses are by John Thomas. The water\nin the well stands 172 feet below the ground level, and the depth\nis continually increasing. It is pumped up to the “Round Pond,” and\ndescends by gravity. The second supply comes from a well 28 feet deep\nin the gravel on “Duck Island,” in St. James’s Park. The water, which\nis 1"} -{"id": 83, "text": "9 feet below the surface, remains constant, that level being the\nsame as the water-bearing stratum of the Thames valley in London.\nIt is pumped up to the Serpentine, and returns to the lake in St.\nJames’s Park, supplying the lake in the gardens of Buckingham Palace\non the way. The deep well provides about 120,000 gallons, and the\nshallow about 100,000 a day. The “Round Pond”--which, by the way, is\nnot round--affords the greatest delight to the owners, of all ages,\nof miniature yachts of all sizes. There are the large boats with\nskilful masters, which sail triumphantly across the placid waters, and\nthere are the small craft that spend days on the weeds, or founder\namid “waves that run inches high,” like the good steamship _Puffin_\nin Anstey’s amusing poem. When the weeds are cut twice every summer,\nmany pathetic little wrecks are raised to the surface, perchance to be\nrestored to the expectant owners.\n\nSkating was an amusement in Hyde Park even before the Serpentine\nexisted, and the old"} -{"id": 84, "text": "er ponds often presented a gay scene in winter,\nalthough it was on the canal in St. James’s Park that the use of the\nmodern skate is first recorded in Charles II.’s time.\n\nDuring the last hundred years Hyde Park has frequently been disturbed\nby mobs and rioters, until it has become the recognised place in which\nto air popular discontent in any form, or to ventilate any grievance.\nThe first serious riot took place at the funeral of Queen Caroline, in\n1821. To avoid any popular demonstration of feeling, it was arranged\nthat the funeral procession should not pass through the City. The Queen\nhad died at Brandenburgh House, and was to be interred at Brunswick.\nInstead of going straight by way of Knightsbridge and Piccadilly, a\ncircuitous route by Kensington, Bayswater, Islington, and Mile End\nwas planned. On reaching Kensington Church, the mob prevented the\nturn towards Bayswater being taken. Hyde Park was thronged with an\nexcited crowd, trying to force the escort to go the way it wished.\nA"} -{"id": 85, "text": "t Cumberland Gate quite a severe encounter took place, in which the\nLife Guards twice charged the mob. Further down Oxford Street were\nbarricades, and to avoid further rioting the procession eventually had\nto take the people’s route, passing quietly down to the Strand and\nthrough the City.\n\nThe occasion of the Reform Bill riot in 1831, when the windows were\nsmashed in Apsley House, is well known, and from 1855 to 1866 Hyde Park\nwitnessed many turbulent demonstrations. The first occasion was in July\n1855 against Lord Robert Grosvenor’s “Sunday Trading Bill,” when some\n150,000 people assembled, and various scenes of disturbance took place.\nMore or less serious riots were of frequent occurrence, until they\nculminated in the Reform League riot in July 1866, when the railings\nbetween Marble Arch and Grosvenor Gate “were entirely demolished, and\nthe flower-beds were ruined.” The flower-beds had not been long in\nexistence when they were wantonly damaged by the mob.\n\n[Illustration: AUTUMN BEDS"} -{"id": 86, "text": ", HYDE PARK]\n\nThe idea of introducing flowers into the Park began about 1860, and the\nlong rows of beds between Stanhope Gate and Marble Arch were made about\nthat time, when Mr. Cowper Temple was First Commissioner of Works.\nThey were made when “bedding out” was at the height of its fashion,\nwhen the one idea was to have large, glaring patches of bright flowers\nas dazzling as possible, or minute and intricate patterns carried\nout in carpet bedding. Now this plan has been considerably modified.\nThe process of alteration has been slow, and the differences in some\ncases subtle, but the old stiffness and crudeness has been banished\nfor ever. The harmony of colours, and variety of plants used, are the\nprincipal features in the present bedding out. It seems right that\nthe Royal Parks should lead the way in originality and beauty, and\nundoubted success is frequently achieved, although even the style of\nto-day has its opponents. The chief objection from the more practical\ngardeners is the putt"} -{"id": 87, "text": "ing out of comparatively tender plants in\nthe summer months, when the same general effect could be got with\na less expenditure both of money and plants. But on the other hand\nnumbers of people come to study the beds, note the combinations, and\nexamine the use of certain plants which they would not otherwise have\nthe opportunity of testing. The public who enjoy the results, and\noften those who most severely criticise, do not know the system on\nwhich the gardening is carried out. Many are even ignorant enough to\nsuppose that the whole bedding out is contracted for, and few know the\nhidden recesses of Hyde Park, which produces everything for all the\ndisplay, both there and in St. James’s Park. The old place in which all\nnecessary plants were raised was a series of green-houses and frames\nin front of Kensington Palace. The erection of these pits and glass\nhouses completely destroyed the design of the old garden, although even\nnow the slope reveals the lines of the old terraces; and they en"} -{"id": 88, "text": "tirely\nobscure the beauty of the Orangery. A few years ago three acres in\nthe centre of Hyde Park were taken, on which to form fresh nurseries.\nGradually better ranges have been built, and soon the old unsightly\nframes at Kensington will disappear. The new garden is so completely\nhidden that few have discovered its whereabouts. The ground selected\nlies to the north-west of the Ranger’s Lodge. There, a series of\nglass houses on the most approved plan, and rows of frames, have been\nerected. The unemployed have found work by excavating the ground to the\ndepth of some eight feet, and the gravel taken out has made the wide\nwalk across the Green Park and the alterations in the “Mall.” A wall\nand bank of shrubs and trees so completely hides even the highest house\nin which the palms--such as those outside the National Gallery--are\nstored, that it is quite invisible from the outside. There are\nstorehouses for the bulbs, and nurseries where masses of wall-flowers,\ndelphiniums, and all the hardie"} -{"id": 89, "text": "r bedding plants, and those for the\nherbaceous borders, are grown. Of late years the number of beds in\nthe Park has been considerably reduced, without any diminution of the\neffect. In 1903 as many as ninety were done away with between Grosvenor\nGate and Marble Arch. There is now a single row of long beds instead\nof three rows with round ones at intervals. But even after all these\nreductions the area of flower beds and borders is very considerable, as\nthe following table will show:--\n\n +-----------------------------+----------------+----------------+\n | | Area of Flower | Area of Flower |\n | | Beds. | Borders. |\n +-----------------------------+----------------+----------------+\n | | Sq. Yds. | Sq. Yds. |\n | Hyde Park | 1742 | 2975 |\n | Kensington Gardens | 345 | 3564 |\n | St. James’s Park | "} -{"id": 90, "text": " 30 | 2642 |\n | Queen Victoria Memorial in | 1270 | ... |\n | front of Buckingham Palace | | |\n +-----------------------------+----------------+----------------+\n | Total | 3687 | 9181 |\n +-----------------------------+----------------+----------------+\n\nAn event of historic importance which took place in Hyde Park was the\nGreat Exhibition of 1851. Various sites, such as Battersea, Regent’s\nPark, Somerset House, and Leicester Square, were suggested, and the one\nchosen met with some opposition, but finally the space between Rotten\nRow and Knightsbridge Barracks was decided on. Plans were submitted\nfor competition, and though 245 were sent in not one satisfied the\ncommittee, so, assisted by three well-known architects, they evolved a\nplan of their own. This was to be carried out in brick; the labour of\nremoving it after the Exhibition would have been stupendous. It was\nw"} -{"id": 91, "text": "hen this plan was under consideration that Paxton showed his idea for\nthe building of iron and glass so well known as the Crystal Palace. It\nwas 1851 feet long and 408 wide, with a projection on the north 936\nfeet by 48, and the building covered about 19 acres.\n\nOne stipulation was made before the design was accepted, and that was\nthat three great elm trees growing on the site should not be removed,\nbut included in the building. To effect this, some alterations were\nmade, and the trees were successfully encased in this Crystal Palace,\nand the old trunk of one of them is still standing in Hyde Park. There\nis a railing round it, but no tablet to record this strange chapter in\nits history. Some smaller trees were cut down, which led to a cartoon\nin _Punch_ and lines on the Prince Consort, who was the prime mover in\nall pertaining to the Great Exhibition.\n\n “Albert! spare those trees,\n Mind where you fix your show;\n For mercy’s sake, don’t, please,\n Go spoiling Rotte"} -{"id": 92, "text": "n Row.”\n\nThe Exhibition was opened by the Queen on May 1st. The enthusiasm it\ncreated in all sections of the population has known no parallel, and in\nthe success and excitement the few small elm trees were soon forgotten\nby the delighted people, who raised cheers and shouted--\n\n “Huzza for the Crystal Palace,\n And the world’s great National Fair.”\n\nHyde Park never saw more people than during the time it was open from\nthe 1st of May to the 11th of October, as 6,063,986 persons visited the\nExhibition, an average of 43,000 daily. Its success was phenomenal\nalso from a financial point of view, as after all expenses were\ndeducted there was a surplus of £150,000, with which the land from the\nPark to South Kensington was purchased, on which the Albert Hall and\nmuseums have been built.\n\nIt seems to have been the complete originality of the whole structure\nthat captivated all beholders. In his memoirs the eighth Duke of Argyll\nrefers to the opening as the most beautiful spectacl"} -{"id": 93, "text": "e he had ever seen.\n“Merely,” he writes, “as a spectacle of joy and of supreme beauty,\nthe opening of the Great Exhibition of 1851 stands in my memory as a\nthing unapproachable and alone. This supreme beauty was mainly in the\nbuilding, not in its contents, nor even in the brilliant and happy\nthrong that filled it. The sight was a new sensation, as if Fancy had\nbeen suddenly unveiled. Nothing like it had ever been seen before--its\nlight-someness, its loftiness, its interminable vistas, its aisles and\ndomes of shining and brilliant colouring.”\n\nIt was with the recollection of this world-famous Exhibition fresh in\nmen’s minds that the site for the Albert Memorial was chosen. The idea\nconceived by Sir Gilbert Scott was the reproduction on a large scale of\na mediæval shrine or reliquary. When it was erected an alteration was\nmade in some of the avenues in Kensington Gardens, so as to bring one\ninto line with the Memorial. A fresh avenue of elms and planes straight\nto the monument was plante"} -{"id": 94, "text": "d, which joined into the original one, and a\nfew trees were dotted about to break the old line. As first planned,\nthe avenue must have commanded a view of Paddington Church steeple in\nthe vista.\n\nThere is no better refutation of the theory that only plane trees will\nlive in London, than an examination of the trees in Hyde Park and\nKensington Gardens. An appendix to this volume gives a list of the\ntrees and shrubs which have been planted there, and notes those which\nare not in existence, having proved unsuitable to London, or been\nremoved from some other cause. Many people will doubtless be surprised\nat the length of the list. A large number of the trees are really fine\nspecimens, and would do credit to any park in the kingdom. Take, for\ninstance, some of the ash trees. There is a very fine group not very\nfar from the Mount Gate inside Kensington Gardens. Two specimens with\nlight feathery foliage, _Fraxinus lentiscifolia_ and _F. excelsior\nangustifolia_, when seen like lace against the "} -{"id": 95, "text": "sky, are remarkably\npretty trees. Not far from them stand a good tulip tree and the last\nremaining of the old Scotch firs. The Ailanthus Avenue from the\nSerpentine Bridge towards Rotten Row, planted in 1876, is looking most\nprosperous. There are a few magnificent ancient sweet chestnuts above\nthe bastion near the Magazine. The trees planted from time to time have\nwisely been grouped together according to species. Near the Ranger’s\nLodge, outside the new frame-ground, some birches grow well, and their\nwhite stems are washed every year. The collection of pavias, which\nflower delightfully in the small three-cornered enclosure where the\nroad divides at the Magazine, are most flourishing. To the south-west\nof the fountains at the end of the Serpentine, some very good Turkey\nand American oaks are growing into large trees. Several really old\nthorns are dotted about. In a walk from the “Round Pond,” by the stone\nwhich marks the boundary of three parishes, towards Bayswater, grand\nspecimens of "} -{"id": 96, "text": "oak, ash, lime, elm, sweet and horse-chestnuts are met\nwith. The avenue of horse-chestnuts is just as flourishing as those\nof planes or elms. In fact the whole Park shows how well trees will\nsucceed if sufficient care is taken of them. One feature of the Park in\nold days was the Walnut Avenue, which grew nearly on the lines of the\npresent trees between Grosvenor Gate and the Achilles Statue. They were\ndecayed and were cut down in 1811, and the best of the wood was used\nfor gunstocks for the army. It is a pity no walnut avenue was planted\ninstead, as by now it would have been a fine shady walk. The old elms,\nwhich are of such great beauty in Hyde Park, have, alas! often to be\nsacrificed for the safety of passers-by, so that the recent severe\nlopping was necessary. Their great branches are the first to fall in\na gale. Yet when one has to be removed there is an outcry, though\npeople tamely submit to a whole row of trees being ruined by tram lines\nalong the Embankment, so inconsistent is p"} -{"id": 97, "text": "ublic opinion. It is almost\nincredible what narrow escapes from destruction even the beauty of Hyde\nPark has had. In 1884 a Metropolitan and Parks Railway Bill was before\nParliament, which actually proposed to cross the Park by tunnels and\ncuttings which would have completely disfigured “The Dell” and other\nparts of the Park. In this utilitarian age nothing is sacred.\n\nThe Dell had not been ten years in its present form when the proposal\nwas made. The site of the Dell was a receiving lake, about 200 yards\nby 70, which had been made in 1734. This was done away with in 1844,\nand the overflow of the Serpentine allowed to pass over the artificial\nrocks which still remain. It was enveloped in a dark and dirty\nshrubbery, the haunt of all the ruffians and the worst characters who\nfrequented the Park at night. The place was not safe to pass after\ndark, neither had it any beauty to recommend it. It was in this state\nwhen the present Lord Redesdale became Secretary of the Office of\nWorks in 1874"} -{"id": 98, "text": ". He conceived the idea of turning it into a sub-tropical\ngarden, designed the banks of the little stream, and introduced\nsuitable planting, banishing the old shrubs, and merely using the best\nto form a background to the spireas, iris, giant coltsfoot, osmundas,\nday lilies, and such-like, which adorned the water’s edge in front. The\ndark history of the Dell is quite forgotten, and watching the ducks and\nrabbits playing about this pretty spot is one of the chief delights of\nHyde Park.\n\nThe monolith which stands near was brought from Liskeard in Cornwall\nby Mr. Cowper Temple, when First Commissioner of Works, and set up in\nits present place as a drinking-fountain in 1862. In 1887 the water was\ncut off it, the railings altered, and the turf laid round it, joining\nit on to the rest of the Dell. To Lord Redesdale are due also the\nrhododendrons which make such a glorious show on either side of Rotten\nRow. He contracted with Messrs. Anthony Waterer for a yearly supply, as\nthey only look their"} -{"id": 99, "text": " best for a short time exposed to London air. In\nhis time, too, many of the small flower-beds which were dotted about\nwithout much rhyme or reason were done away with, and the borders at\nthe edge of the shrubs substituted.\n\nThe latest addition to Hyde Park is the fountain presented by Sir\nWalter Palmer and put up near the end of the “Row” in 1906. The\nsculpture and design are the work of Countess Feodore Gleichen. The\ngraceful figure of Artemis, with bow and arrow, and the supporting\ncariatides, are of bronze, the upper basin of Saravezza marble, and the\nlower of Tecovertino stone. The whole is most light and elegant, and\nshows up well against the dark trees.\n\n[Illustration: FOUNTAIN BY COUNTESS FEODOR GLEICHEN, HYDE PARK]\n\nIt has only been possible to glance at the history and beauties of\nHyde Park; many more pages could be written without touching on half\nof the incidents connected with it, between the days when it was\nmonastic lands to the days of the modern Sunday “Church Parade.” "} -{"id": 100, "text": "It\nis interesting to trace the origin of the little customs with which\nevery one is now familiar, but which once were new and original. For\ninstance, the naming of trees and flowers in the Parks was first done\nabout 1842, the idea having been suggested by Loudon, and carried out\nby Nash the architect, and George Don the botanist. Then the system\nof paying a penny for a seat began in 1820, but when some of the free\nseats were removed in 1859 there was a great outcry, and they were\nimmediately put back. Then the meets of the Four-in-hand and Coaching\nClubs, which are quite an institution in Hyde Park, only continue the\ntradition of the “Whip Club,” which first met in 1808. The history of\nthe various gates calls for notice. The Marble Arch, designed by Nash,\nwith ornaments by Flaxman, Westmacott, and Rossi, in Carrara marble,\nwas moved from Buckingham Palace to its present position in 1851.\nOver £4000 was expended on the removal, while the original sum spent\nwas £75,000. The statue of Geo"} -{"id": 101, "text": "rge IV. by Chantrey, now in Pall Mall\nEast, was intended for the top, and cost 9000 guineas, and the bronze\ngates are by Samuel Parker. Near that corner of the Park was a stone\nwhere soldiers were shot, and one of the historians of the Park\nstates that it is still there, only covered over with earth when the\nnew Cumberland Gate was made in 1822. Apsley Gate at Hyde Park Corner\nwas designed by Decimus Burton, and put up in 1827, and he planned the\narch forming the entrance to Constitution Hill the following year. The\nstags, by Bartolozzi, on Albert Gate, came from the Ranger’s Lodge in\nGreen Park. Grosvenor Gate was opened about 1724, and Stanhope Gate\nsome twenty-five years later. All the others are more modern.\n\nThose who wish to pursue the subject further will find such details\nmore or less accessible in various guide-books. But to every one the\nPark, with all its charms, its beauties, and its memories, is open,\nand it is certain that the better it is known the more it will be\napprec"} -{"id": 102, "text": "iated.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nST. JAMES’S AND GREEN PARKS\n\n _Near this my Muse, what most delights her, sees\n A living Gallery of Aged Trees:\n Bold sons of Earth, that thrust their Arms so high,\n As if once more they would invade the Sky._\n\n * * * * *\n\n _Here Charles contrives the ord’ring of his States;\n Here he resolves his neighb’ring Princes’ Fates;_\n\n * * * * *\n\n _A Prince on whom such diff’rent Lights did smile,\n Born the divided World to reconcile.\n Whatever Heav’n or high extracted Blood\n Could promise or foretel, he’ll make it good,\n Reform these Nations, and improve them more\n Than this fair Park, from what it was before._\n\n --ST. JAMES’S PARK: “Poetical Essay,” by Waller.\n\n\nThe opening history of St. James’s and Green Parks is similar to that\nof Hyde Park. They formed part of the same manor in early days, and\nbecame Crown property in He"} -{"id": 103, "text": "nry VIII.’s time. St. James’s Park was\nchiefly a marsh. The Thames overflowed its banks nearly every year,\nand the low-lying parts were a swamp and the haunt of wild fowl, and\nthe chief use of the Park was for the sport the wild birds afforded.\nThe Tyburn flowed through it on its way from where it crossed the\nmodern Oxford Street to where it joined the Thames, a little west of\nwhere Vauxhall Bridge afterwards stood. It passed right across Green\nPark, where the depression of its valley can still be traced between\nHalf Moon Street and Down Street. The name, St. James’s, originated\nwith the hospital for lepers, dedicated to St. James, on the site of\nthe present palace. The exact date of its foundation is lost in the\nmists of antiquity, but it was established by the citizens of London,\n“before the time of any man’s memorie, for 14 Sisters, maydens,\nthat were leprous, living chastly and honestly in Divine Service.”\nLater, there were further gifts of land and money from the citizens,\nand “8 "} -{"id": 104, "text": "brethren to minister Divine Service there” were added to the\nfoundation. All these gifts were subsequently confirmed by Edward I.,\nwho granted a fair to be held for seven days, commencing on the eve of\nSt. James’s Day, in St. James’s Fields, which belonged to the hospital.\nThe letting out of the land for booths became a source of further\nincome to the lepers. Stowe shortly tells the subsequent history.\n“This Hospital was surrendered to Henry the 8 the 23 of his reigne:\nthe Sisters being compounded with were allowed Pensions for terme of\ntheir lives, and the King builded there a goodly Mannor, annexing\nthereunto a Park, closed about with a wall of brick, now called St.\nJames’s Parke, serving indifferently to the said Mannor, and to the\nMannor or Palace of Whitehall.” At first sight the summary ejection of\nthese helpless creatures appears unusually heartless, even for those\ndays; but leprosy, which during the time of the Crusades had grown to a\nformidable extent, was declining in the six"} -{"id": 105, "text": "teenth century in England.\nIt is probable, therefore, that the poor outcast sisters, possessed of\ntheir pensions, would be able to find shelter in one of the other leper\nhospitals, of which there were still a number in the country.\n\nThe space between Whitehall and Westminster, acquired from the\nAbbey, was turned into an orchard. The site of Montagu House was the\nbowling-green of the Palace, which stretched to the river. A high\nterrace and flight of steps led to the Privy Garden of Whitehall,\nso, except for the Palace and the Westminster group, there were no\nbuildings between the river and the Park. It requires some stretch of\nthe imagination to efface the well-known edifices which now surround\nit, and to see it in its natural state. Flights of wild birds would\npass from the marshy ground to the river, unchecked by the pile of\nGovernment offices. Behind the Leper Hospital lay fields and scattered\nhouses. The far-off villages of Knightsbridge and Chelsea would\nscarcely come into sight, w"} -{"id": 106, "text": "hile beyond the village of Charing the\nwalls and towers of the City would loom in the distance. Henry VIII.\nmade some alterations, and may have partially drained the ground and\nstocked it with deer. Old maps show a pond at the west end, near the\npresent Wellington Barracks, called Rosamund’s Pond. The origin of the\nname is uncertain, but “Rosemonsbore, or Rosamund’s Bower,” occurs\nin a lease of land near this spot from the Abbey of Westminster as\nearly as 1520. Hard by was a “mount,” such as was to be seen in every\nsixteenth-century garden, probably with an arbour and seat on the top\nto overlook the pond. The first mention of St. James’s as a Park is in\n1539, on an occasion described in Hall’s Chronicle, when Henry VIII.\nheld a review of the city militia. “The King himself,” writes the\nchronicler, “would see the people of the Citie muster in sufficient\nnombre....” Some 15,000, leaving the City after passing by St. Paul’s\nChurchyard, went “directly to Westminster and so through the Sanc"} -{"id": 107, "text": "tuary\nand round about the Park of St. James, and so up into the fields and\ncame home through Holborne.”\n\nIt was not until James I.’s time that the Park began to be esteemed\nas a resort for those attached to the Court. Prince Henry, the elder\nbrother of Charles I., made the tilting-ring on the site of the present\nHorse Guards’ Parade, and brought the enclosure more into vogue for\ngames. James I. made use of the Park for his own hobbies, one of which\nwas the encouragement of growing vines and mulberries in England. He\nplanted considerable vineyards, and in 1609 he sent a circular letter\nto the Lords-Lieutenant of each county, ordering them to announce\nthat the following spring a thousand mulberry trees would be sent to\neach county town, and people were required to buy them at the rate of\nthree-farthings a plant. To further prosecute his plan, the King set an\nexample by planting a mulberry orchard at the end of St. James’s Park.\nThe place afterwards became a fashionable tea garden, and Bu"} -{"id": 108, "text": "ckingham\nPalace is partly built on the site. The King kept also quite a large\nmenagerie of beasts and birds presented to him by various crowned\nheads, or sent to him by friends and favourites. There are records\nof elephants, camels, antelopes, beavers, crocodiles, wild boars,\nand sables, besides many kinds of birds. The keepers of the animals\nreceived large salaries, and the cost of the care of these beasts\nwould frighten the Zoological Society of to-day. No expense was spared\nto give the best and most suitable surroundings to the animals. For\ninstance, as much as £286 was expended in 1618 by Robert Wood, the\nkeeper of the cormorants, ospreys, and otters, “in building a place to\nkeep the said cormorants in and making nine fish-ponds on land within\nthe vine garden at Westminster.” Fish were put in for these creatures,\nand a sluice was made to bring water from the Thames to fill the\nponds. These strange beasts and birds and their attendants must have\nbeen a quaint and unusual sight. The "} -{"id": 109, "text": "keepers were dressed in red cloth\n(which cost nine shillings a yard), embroidered with “I.R.” in Venice\ngold, and must have added to the picturesque appearance of this early\nZoological Garden.\n\nGradually the Park became more and more a favourite place in which to\nstroll. Others were admitted besides the Court circle, the privilege\nbeing first accorded to the tenants of the houses at Westminster.\nMilton, who lived at one time in Petty France, near where Queen Anne’s\nGate now stands, planted a tree in the garden overlooking the Park,\nwhich survived until recent times, would be one of those to enjoy the\nadvantage. Charles I. passed this way on his last journey to Whitehall\non the fatal 30th of January, and tradition says he paused to notice a\ntree planted by his brother Henry. During the Commonwealth, the Park\nstill was resorted to. In the sprightly letters of Dorothy Osborne to\nSir William Temple are some vivid little touches in reference to it.\nShe writes from the country in March 1654:"} -{"id": 110, "text": " “And hark you, can you tell\nme whether the gentleman that lost a crystal box the 1st of February\nin St. James’s Park or Old Spring Gardens has found it again or not?\nI have a strong curiosity to know.” Again, in June of the same year,\nshe writes from London, where she was paying a visit: “I’ll swear they\nwill not allow me time for anything; and to show how absolutely I am\ngoverned, I need but tell you that I am every night in the Park and at\nNew Spring Gardens, where, though I come with a mask, I cannot escape\nbeing known nor my conversation being admired.”\n\nThe most brilliant days of its history began, however, in Charles\nII.’s reign. He entirely remodelled it, and began the work soon after\nhis return from exile, imbued with foreign ideas of gardening. It has\nalways been supposed that Le Nôtre was responsible for the designs, and\nit has often been asserted that he himself came to England to see them\ncarried out. But close investigation has furnished no proof of this,\nand it is practi"} -{"id": 111, "text": "cally certain that, although invited, and allowed by\nLouis XIV. to come to England, he never actually did so. Other “French\ngardeners” certainly came, and one of them, La Quintinge, made many\nEnglish friends, and kept up a correspondence with them after his\nreturn to France. Perrault probably visited London also, and may have\nsuperintended the “French gardeners” who were employed on St. James’s\nPark. They transformed the whole place. Avenues--the Mall and “Birdcage\nWalk”--were planted. A straight canal passed down the middle, and at\nthe end, near the present Foreign Office, was the duck decoy. The\n“Birdcage Walk” is no fantastic title, for birds were literally kept\nthere in cages. These were probably aviaries for large birds, and not\nlittle hanging cages, as has been sometimes suggested. A well-known\npassage occurs in Evelyn’s Diary, 1664, where he enumerates some of\nthe birds and beasts he saw during one of his walks through the Park.\nThe pelican delighted him, although “a melancholy "} -{"id": 112, "text": "waterfowl,” and he\nwatched the skilful way it devoured fish; and it is not surprising\nthat he recorded the strange fact that one of the two Balearian cranes\nhad a wooden leg, made by a soldier, with a joint, so that the bird\ncould “walk and use it as well as if it had been natural”; and he\nspeaks with interest of a solan goose, a stork, a milk-white raven,\nand “a curious sort of poultry,” besides “deer of several countries,”\nantelopes, elk, “Guinea goats, Arabian sheep, etc.” The duck decoy\nlay at the south-west end of the long canal, which formed part of the\nnew French design. This “duck island” was rather a series of small\nislands, as it was intersected by canals and reed-covered channels\nfor catching duck. This was a favourite resort of Charles II., who\nhas often been described feeding his ducks in St. James’s Park. To\nbe keeper of the ducks, or “Governor of Duck Island,” was granted to\nSt. Evremond, an excuse for bestowing a yearly salary on a favourite.\nThe birds continued after t"} -{"id": 113, "text": "he King, who had found in them a special\nrecreation, had passed away. In William III.’s time the Park is still\ndescribed as ���full of very fine walkes and rowes of trees, ponds, and\ncurious birds, Deer, and some fine Cows.” A Dutch traveller who was\nin England from 1693–96 notices the famous old white raven. By that\ntime the ducks were no longer the fashion, and evidently there was an\ninclination to despise the former craze for wild fowl. A Frenchman,\nnamed M. de Sorbiere, visited England about this time, and wrote an\naccount of his impressions. Some of his adverse criticisms of English\npeople and institutions got him into trouble. A supposed translation\nof his book was published in 1698, and until 1709 was held to be a\ncorrect version. In reality it was a clever skit, and not in the least\nlike the original. In the true version he describes the Park with its\nrows of trees and “admirable prospect” of the suburbs, and mentions\nthat the King had “erected a tall Pile in the Park, the better"} -{"id": 114, "text": " to make\nuse of Telescopes, with which Sir Robert Murray shew’d me Saturn and\nthe Satellites of Jupiter.” Not a word about the ducks. But in the\nspurious parody of 1698 there is a humorous description, which shows\nhow the next generation laughed at the amusements of King Charles II.\n“I was at St. James’s Park; there were no Pavillions, nor decoration\nof Treilliage and Flowers; but I saw there a vast number of Ducks;\nthese were a most surprising sight. I could not forbear to say to Mr.\nJohnson, who was pleased to accompany me in this Walk, that sure all\nthe ponds in England had contributed to this profussion of Ducks; which\nhe took so well, that he ran immediately to an Old Gentleman that\nsate in a Chair, and was feeding of ’em. He rose up very obligingly,\nembraced me, and saluted me with a Kiss, and invited me to Dinner;\ntelling me he was infinitely oblig’d to me for flattering the King’s\nDucks.”\n\nLittle attention was paid to the wild fowl in the Park after that\ndate, until the Prince "} -{"id": 115, "text": "Consort took an interest in them. In 1841 he\nbecame the Patron of the Ornithological Society, and the cottage on\nDuck Island was built for the Bird-keeper. For some thirty years the\nSociety flourished, and kept up the supply and cared for the birds in\nthe Park. In 1867, however, their numbers were greatly reduced, and\nthe Society sold their collection of birds to H.M. Office of Works,\nwhich has since then had them under its charge. It is pleasant to know\nthat the old tradition of the wild fowl in that part of the Park is\nmaintained. Although the duck pond of King Charles’s time must have\nlooked somewhat different from that of to-day, the birds can be made as\nmuch at home, and they nest peacefully on the modern Duck Island, its\ndirect descendant. Moorhens and dabchicks, or little grebes, have for\nthe last twenty years nested in the Park. They used to leave for the\nbreeding season, but since 1883, when the first moorhen nested, they\nhave gradually taken to remaining contentedly all throu"} -{"id": 116, "text": "gh the year, and\nbring up their young there. Birds seem to choose the Park to rest in,\nand many migratory ones have been noticed. Kingfishers have recently\nbeen let out near the site of the ancient bird cages, in the hope that\nthey may carry on the historic association.\n\n[Illustration: CROCUSES IN EARLY SPRING, ST. JAMES’S PARK]\n\nThe cows, which were a part of ancient history, as were the birds,\nhave not been so fortunate. Although a newspaper clamour in defence\nof the cows was raised, the few remaining were finally banished in\n1905, when the alterations in the Mall were made. These survivals\nstanding by the dusty stalls could scarcely be called picturesque;\nand although interest undoubtedly was attached to them as venerable\nsurvivals of an old custom, they hardly suggested the rural simplicity\nof the days when cows were really pastured in the Park. For over two\ncenturies grazing was let to the milk-women who sold milk at the end\nof the Park, near Whitehall. They paid half-a-crown a we"} -{"id": 117, "text": "ek, and after\n1772 three shillings a week, for the right to feed cattle in the Park.\nA Frenchman, describing St. James’s at that time, is astonished at\nits rural aspect. “In that part nearest Westminster nature appears\nin all its rustic simplicity; it is a meadow, regularly intersected\nand watered by canals, and with willows and poplars, without any\nregard to order. On this side, as well as on that towards St.\nJames’s Palace, the grass plots are covered with cows and deer, where\nthey graze or chew the cud, some standing, some lying down upon the\ngrass.... Agreeably to this rural simplicity, most of these cows are\ndriven, about noon and evening, to the gate which leads from the Park\nto the quarter of Whitehall. Tied to posts at the extremity of the\ngrass plots, they swill passengers with their milk, which, being drawn\nfrom their udders on the spot, is served, with all cleanliness peculiar\nto the English, in little mugs at the rate of a penny a mug.” The\ncombination of the gay crowd in h"} -{"id": 118, "text": "ooped petticoats, brilliant coats, and\npowdered wigs, with the peaceful, green meadows and the browsing deer\nand cows, forms an attractive picture.\n\nAll this had changed long before the final departure of the cattle,\nwhen the last old woman was pensioned off, and the sheds carted away.\nA use was found for the fragments of the concrete foundations of the\nlast milkmaid’s stall. They were made into a sort of rockery, on which\nAlpine plants grow well, to support the bank at the entrance to the new\nframe-grounds at Hyde Park.\n\nBut to return to Charles II.’s time, when the cows were undisturbed.\nThe great feature of what Pepys calls the “brave alterations” was the\ncanal. He mentions more than one visit when the works were in progress.\nIn October 1660 he went “to walk in St. James’s Park, where we observed\nthe several engines at work to draw up water, with which sight I was\nvery much pleased.” The canal, when finished, was 2800 feet long and\n100 broad, and ran through the centre of the Park, "} -{"id": 119, "text": "beginning near\nthe north end of. Rosamund’s Pond. An avenue of trees was planted on\neither side, passing down between the canal and the duck decoy to a\nsemicircular double avenue near the tilting-ground. Deer wandered under\nfine old oaks between the canal and the avenues of “the Mall.” These\nold trees have gradually disappeared, as much through gales as from the\nwanton destruction of the would-be improver. At the hour of Cromwell’s\ndeath, when the storm was so fierce the Royalists said it was due to\nfiends coming to claim their own, much havoc was wrought; and from\ntime to time similar destructions have taken place, one of the most\nserious being in November 1703, when part of the wall and over 100 elms\nwere blown down. Another notable gale was on March 15, 1752, when many\npeople lost their lives. “In St. James’s Park and the villages about\nthe metropolis great numbers of trees were demolished.”\n\nThe broad pathway, between avenues on the opposite side of the Park\nto the Birdcage Walk, n"} -{"id": 120, "text": "ow called the Mall, derives this name from the\ngame of “paille-maille,” which is known to have been played in France\nas early as the thirteenth century, and which was popular in England\nin the seventeenth. The locality, however, where it was first played\nin James I.’s time was on the northern side of the street, which is\nstill called from it, Pall Mall. In those days fields stretched away\nbeyond where now St. James’s Square lies, and a single row of houses\nlay between the playground and the Park. As the game became more the\nfashion, the coaches and dust were found too disturbing for enjoyment,\nand a new ground was laid out, running parallel to the old one, but\nwithin the Park. The game is considered by some to be a forerunner of\ncroquet, as it was played with a ball (= _pila_) and mallet, the name\nbeing derived from these two words. One or more hoops had to be passed\nthrough, and a peg at the further end touched. The winner was the\nplayer who passed the hoops and reached the peg in the"} -{"id": 121, "text": " fewest number of\nstrokes. The whole course measured over 600 yards, and was kept brushed\nand smooth, and the ground prepared by coating the earth with crushed\nshells, which, however, remarked Pepys, “in dry weather turns to dust\nand deads the ball.” Both Charles II. and James II. were much addicted\nto the game, and the flattering poet Waller eulogises King Charles’s\n“matchless” skill:--\n\n “No sooner has he touched the flying ball,\n But ’tis already more than half the Mall.”\n\nThe Park was by his time a much-frequented spot, and crowds delighted\nto watch the King and his courtiers displaying their dexterity.\nCharles II. is more intimately connected with St. James’s Park than\nany other great personage. He sauntered about, fed his ducks, played\nhis games, and made love to fair ladies, all with indulgent, friendly\ncrowds watching. He stood in the “Green Walk,” beneath the trees, to\ntalk with Nell Gwynn, in her garden “on a terrace on the top of the\nwall” overlooking the Park; an"} -{"id": 122, "text": "d shocked John Evelyn, who records, in\nhis journal, that he heard and saw “a very familiar discourse between\nthe King and Mrs. Nelly.” Charles’s well-known reply to his brother,\nthat no one would ever kill him to put James on the throne, was said\nin answer to James’s protest that he should not venture to roam about\nso much without attendants in the Park. His dogs often accompanied\nhim, and perhaps, like most of their descendants, these pets had a\nsporting instinct, and ran off to chase the deer. Anyhow, they managed\nfrequently to escape their master’s vigilance, and fell a prey to the\nunscrupulous thief, and descriptions of the missing dogs were published\nin the Gazette. One, answering to the name Towser, was “liver colour’d\nand white spotted”; and a “dogg of His Majestie’s, full of blew spots,\nwith a white cross on his forehead about the bigness of a tumbler,” was\nlost on another occasion.\n\nCharles with his dogs, his ducks, his wit, his engaging manners, his\ndoubtful morals, is the ce"} -{"id": 123, "text": "ntral figure of many a picture in St. James’s\nPark, but it does not often form a background to his Queen. One scene\ndescribed by Pepys has much charm. The party, returning from Hyde Park\non horseback with a great crowd of gallants, pass down the Mall; the\nQueen, riding hand in hand with the King, looking “mighty pretty” in\nher white laced coat and crimson petticoat. Again, on another occasion,\nthe Queen forms an attractive vision, as she walks with her ladies from\nWhitehall to St. James’s dressed from head to foot in silver lace, each\nholding an immense green fan to shade themselves from the fierce rays\nof the June sun, while a delighted crowd throng round them.\n\nThe popularity of the Mall as the rendezvous of all classes lasted for\nover a century. Through the reigns of Queen Anne and George I. and II.\nall the fashionable world of London congregated there twice daily.\nIn the morning the promenade took them there from twelve to two, and\nafter dinner in full dress they thronged thither a"} -{"id": 124, "text": "gain, not to play\nthe game of paille-maille, which was then out of fashion, but simply\nto walk about under the trees and be amused with races, wrestlings,\nor an impromptu dance. Every well-known person--courtiers, wits,\nbeaux, writers, poets, artists, soldiers--and all the beautiful and\nfascinating women, great ladies as well as more humble charmers, and\nbold adventuresses, were to be seen there daily.\n\nThe crowds seem to have been very free in their admiration of some\nof the distinguished ladies. When the three lovely Misses Gunning\ncaptivated everybody with their wit and beauty, they had only to appear\nin the Mall to be surrounded by admirers. On one occasion they were so\npressed by the curious mob that one of these matchless young charmers\nfainted and had to be “carried home in a sedan.”\n\nOn looking at an old print of the ladies in their thin dresses walking\nin the Mall, it is customary to bemoan the change of climate, to wonder\nif our great-great-grand-mothers were supernaturally s"} -{"id": 125, "text": "trong and not\nsensitive to cold, or to conclude that they only paraded there in fine\nweather. Apparently this last is not the correct solution, for in 1765\nthey astonished Monsieur Grosley by their disregard of the elements.\nHe is horrified at the fog. “The smoke,” he writes, “forms a cloud\nwhich envelopes London like a mantle; a cloud which the sun pervades\nbut rarely; a cloud which, recoiling back upon itself, suffers the sun\nto break out only now and then, which casual appearance procures the\nLondoners a few of what they call _glorious days_. The great love of\nthe English for walking defies the badness of other days. On the 26th\nApril, St. James’s Park, incessantly covered with fogs, smoke, and\nrain, that scarce left a possibility of distinguishing objects at a\ndistance of four steps, was filled with walkers, who were an object of\nmusing and admiration to me during the whole day.” Few ladies nowadays\nfear a little fog or rain, but to walk in it they must be attired in\nshort skirts, "} -{"id": 126, "text": "thick boots, and warm or mackintosh coats. It must\nhave been much more distressing in the days of powdered hair, picture\nhats, and flimsy garments. No wonder M. Grosley was astounded at the\npersistence of the poor draggled ladies.\n\nAll foreign visitors to London naturally went to see the Mall. Here is\nthe account of a German baron, describing the man of the world: “He\nrises late, dresses himself in a frock (close-fitting garment, without\npockets, and with narrow sleeves), leaves his sword at home, takes\nhis cane, and goes where he likes. Generally he takes his promenade\nin the Park, for that is the exchange for the men of quality. ’Tis\nsuch another place as the Garden of the Tuileries in Paris, only the\nPark has a certain beauty of simplicity which cannot be described. The\ngrand walk is called the Mall. It is full of people at all hours of the\nday, but especially in the morning and evening, when their Majesties\noften walk there, with the royal family, who are attended only by\nhalf-a-do"} -{"id": 127, "text": "zen Yeomen of the Guard, and permit all persons to walk at the\nsame time with them.”\n\nA writer in 1727, waxing eloquent on the charms of the Park, gives\nup the task of describing it, as “the beauty of the Mall in summer\nis almost past description.” “What can be more glorious than to view\nthe body of the nobility of our three kingdoms in so short a compass,\nespecially when freed from mixed crowds of saucy fops and city gentry?”\nBut more often the company was very mixed, and manners peculiar. This\nbrilliant and motley assembly indulged in all kinds of amusements. Even\nthe grandest frequenters afforded diversion sometimes to the “saucy\nfops.” Wrestling matches between various courtiers attracted crowds,\nor a race such as one between the Duke of Grafton and Dr. Garth, of\n200 yards, was the excitement of the day. There were odd and original\nraces got up, and wagers freely staked. Some inhuman parents backed\ntheir baby of eighteen months old to walk the whole length of the Mall\n(half a mile)"} -{"id": 128, "text": " in thirty minutes, and the poor little mite performed the\nfeat in twenty-three minutes. What comments would modern philanthropic\nsocieties have made on such a performance!\n\nA race between a fat cook and a lean footman caused great merriment,\nbut as the footman was handicapped by carrying 110 lbs., the fat cook\nwon. Another time it was a hopping-race which engrossed attention--a\nman undertook to hop one hundred yards in fifty hops, and succeeded\nin doing it in forty-six--and endless variety of similar follies. The\ncrowds who assembled indulged in every sort of gaiety; “in short, no\nfreedoms that can be taken here are reckoned indecent; all passes for\nraillery and harmless gallantry.”\n\nAlthough open to all the world for walking, only royal personages or\na few specially favoured people were allowed to drive through. It was\none of the grievances of the Duchess of Marlborough when the Duke was\nin disgrace that the privilege of driving her coach and six through\nthe Park was denied her. The "} -{"id": 129, "text": "remaining restrictions with regard to\ncarriages have only passed away in very recent years. The notice board\nstating that Members of Parliament during the session might drive\nthrough the Park from Great George Street to Marlborough House was\nonly removed when the road was opened to all traffic in 1887, and\nConstitution Hill only became a public highway in 1889. The use of the\nroad passing under the Horse Guards’ Archway is still restricted to\nthose who receive special permission from the sovereign.\n\nThe Park had never been drained, and had always shown signs of its\nmarshy origin, and “Duck Island” was really a natural swamp. An\nunusually high tide flooded the low-lying end where the Horse Guards’\nParade and the houses of Downing Street with their little gardens now\nstand. What state secrets they could divulge had they the power of\nspeech! The tilting-ground was often in a condition quite unfit for the\nexercise of troops, so with a view to preventing this, it was paved\nwith stone early "} -{"id": 130, "text": "in the eighteenth century. It has always been used\nfor military displays, and the trooping of the colours on the King’s\nbirthday takes place on the same ground which witnessed the brilliant\nscene when the colours, thirty-eight in number, captured at the battle\nof Blenheim were conveyed to Westminster Abbey. On the parade-ground\nnow stands the gun cast at Seville, used by Soult at Cadiz, and taken\nafter the battle of Salamanca. Here many an impressive ceremony of\ndistributing medals, and countless parades, have taken place through\nmany generations. Here, with the brutality of old days, corporal\npunishment was administered, and offending soldiers were flogged in\nfull view of the merry-making crowds assembled in the Park. Round the\nPark lay other marshy lands, also frequently flooded by the Thames, and\nit was not surprising that on one occasion an otter found its way from\nthe river and settled down on Duck Island and there grew fat on the\nKing’s carp. Sir Robert Walpole sent to Houghton f"} -{"id": 131, "text": "or his otter-hounds,\nand an exciting hunt ensued, in which the Duke of Cumberland took part,\nand the offending otter was captured.\n\nRosamund’s Pond had, in the course of time, become stagnant and\nunpleasant, and there were frequent complaints of its unsavoury\ncondition. About 1736 a machine for pumping out water was invented\nby a Welshman, and used successfully to empty the pond, and it was\nthoroughly cleansed. Thirty years later the same evil began again to be\na nuisance, and it was decided to drain and fill up the pond entirely,\nwhich was accomplished about 1772. The trees on the island were felled,\nand those near the bank died from the lack of water, so at first the\nabsence of the slimy pond must have been disfiguring. The shady walk\nnear it, known as the Close Walk or the Jacobites’ Walk, must have\ndisappeared when the trees died. About the same time the swampy moat\nround Duck Island was filled up and the canal cleaned out. When these\nimprovements were completed in 1775 some birds "} -{"id": 132, "text": "were put on the canal.\nOne of them was a swan called Jack, belonging to Queen Charlotte, which\nwas reared in the garden of Buckingham House. This bird ruled the roost\nfor many a day, and was a popular favourite. It lived until 1840, when\nsome new arrivals, in the shape of Polish geese, pecked and ill-treated\nthe poor old bird so seriously that he died.\n\nAbout 1786 fashion began to desert the Mall for the Green Park, and the\ncrowds which collected there were no longer intermingled with the Court\ncircle. In a letter to her daughter Madame Roland describes the company\nin the Mall as very different from what it was a few years earlier,\nfor though it was “very brilliant on a Sunday evening, and full of\nwell-to-do people and well-dressed women, in general they are all\ntradespeople and citizens.” A generation later the Mall seems to have\nbecome quite deserted. Sir Richard Phillips, in his morning’s walk\nfrom London to Kew in 1817, bemoans the absence of the gay throng:--\n\n“My spirits sank, an"} -{"id": 133, "text": "d a tear started into my eyes, as I brought to mind\nthose crowds of beauty, rank, and fashion which, until within these few\nyears, used to be displayed in the centre Mall of this Park on Sunday\nevenings during spring and summer. How often in my youth had I been\nthe delighted spectator of the enchanted and enchanting assemblage.\nHere used to promenade, for one or two hours after dinner, the whole\nBritish world of gaiety, beauty, and splendour. Here could be seen in\none moving mass, extending the whole length of the Mall, 5000 of the\nmost lovely women in this country of female beauty, all splendidly\nattired, and accompanied by as many well-dressed men. What a change,\nI exclaimed, has a few years wrought in these once happy and cheerful\npersonages! How many of those who on this very spot then delighted my\neyes are now mouldering in the silent grave!”\n\nAbout 1730 Queen Caroline, who was then busy with the alterations in\nHyde Park, turned her attention to what is now known as the Green Park"} -{"id": 134, "text": "\nalso. It had all formed part of St. James’s Park, and was known as the\nUpper Park or Little St. James’s Park. It was enclosed by a brick wall\nin 1667 by Charles II., who stocked it with deer. In the centre of\nthe Park an ice-house was made, at that time a great novelty in this\ncountry, although well known in France and Italy. In his poem on St.\nJames’s Park Waller alludes to it:--\n\n “Yonder the harvest of cold months laid up\n Gives a fresh coolness to the royal cup;\n There ice like crystal firm and never lost\n Tempers hot July with December’s frost.”\n\nNo further alterations were made, except that, in 1681, Charles\neffected an exchange of land with the Earl of Arlington, on which,\na few years later, Arlington Street was built. The path which runs\nparallel with the backs of these houses was Queen Caroline’s idea,\nand she used it frequently herself, and it became known as the\n“Queen’s Walk.” The houses overlooking the Park went up in value as\nthe occupants could en"} -{"id": 135, "text": "joy the sight of the Queen and the Princesses\ntaking their daily walk. The line of this path is no longer the same,\nas a piece was cut off the Park in 1795 and leased to the Duke of\nBridgewater to add to the garden of his house. The Queen also built\na pavilion known as the Queen’s Library in the Park, where she spent\nsome time after her morning promenades. Although Queen Caroline took\nto the Upper Park, the world of fashion did not follow at once, and it\nwas not until about 1786 that the Green Park for some reason suddenly\nbecame the rage. The only incident of historic interest between this\ndate and the making of the road was the celebration of the end of the\nWar of Succession in the spring following the Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle.\nA great pavilion like a Doric temple, 410 feet long and 114 feet high,\nwas erected near the wall separating the Green Park from St. James’s,\nand on the 27th of April a grand display of fireworks was arranged.\nA fire, however, broke out just as the performance "} -{"id": 136, "text": "was beginning,\nwhen a grand overture composed by Handel had been performed, and the\nKing and dense crowds were watching the illuminations. The flames\nwere got under, but not before much of the temporary building had\nbeen destroyed, and the greater part of the fireworks perished in the\nflames, and several fatal and serious accidents further marred the\nentertainment.\n\nNear the top of the Park was a reservoir or “fine piece of water”\nbelonging to the Chelsea Waterworks, and the path round it was included\nin the fashionable promenade by those who paraded in the Queen’s Walk\nafter dinner. Lower down, where there is still a depression, was a\nlittle pond, originally part of the Tyburn stream. The “green stagnant\npool” was abused by a writer in 1731, who regretted that trees had just\nbeen planted near it, which probably meant that the offensive pool\nwould “not soon be removed.” The prophecy was correct, for it was more\nthan a hundred years later before this was filled up. The Park wall\nran alo"} -{"id": 137, "text": "ng Piccadilly, and here and there, as was often the case in the\neighteenth century, there were gaps with iron rails, through which\nglimpses of the Park could be obtained. Some persons had private keys\nto the gates leading into the Park from Piccadilly. Daring robberies\nwere by no means uncommon, and thieves, having done mischief in the\nstreets near Piccadilly on more than one occasion, were found to be\nprovided with keys to the gates, through which they could make their\nescape into the Park and elude their pursuers. The Ranger’s Lodge stood\non the northern side, and was rebuilt and done up in 1773. It was made\nso attractive that there was great competition, when it was completed,\nto be Deputy-ranger and live there. The two stags which now stand\non Albert Gate, Hyde Park, once adorned the gates of this Ranger’s\nLodge. It is described in 1792 as “a very neat lodge surrounded by\na shrubbery, which renders it enchantingly rural.” When George III.\nbought Buckingham House, then an old red-br"} -{"id": 138, "text": "ick mansion, he took away\nthe wall which separated the Green Park from St. James’s, and put a\nrailing instead. In this wall was another lodge, and a few trees near\nit, known as the Wilderness.\n\nThe aspect of the Mall has greatly changed since the days when its\nfashion was at its height. Then the gardens of St. James’s Palace ran\nthe whole length of the north side from the Palace towards Whitehall.\nStephen Switzer, writing in 1715, extols the beauty of the garden,\nwhich by his time was cut up and partly built on. “The Royal Garden in\nSt. James’s Park, part of which is now in the possession of the Right\nHonourable Lord Carlton, and the upper part belonging to Marlborough\nHouse, was of that King’s [Charles II.] planting, which were in the\nremembrance of most people the finest Lines of Dwarfs perhaps in the\nUniverse. Mr. London” ... presumed “before Monsieur de la Quintinye,\nthe famous French gardener, ... to challenge all France with the like,\nand if France, why not the whole World?”\n\nCar"} -{"id": 139, "text": "lton House, a red-brick building, with the stone portico now in\nfront of the National Gallery, was built in 1709 on part of this\ngarden. Some twenty years later, before it was purchased by Frederick,\nPrince of Wales, the grounds belonging to the house were laid out by\nKent. Until Carlton House was pulled down in 1827, therefore, the Mall\nwas bounded on the north by choice gardens. Between the Mall and the\nwalls of these gardens ran the “Green Walk,” or “Duke Humphrey’s Walk,”\nas it was also often called. The origin of the latter name is to be\ntraced to old St. Paul’s. The monument to Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester,\nin the centre aisle of old St. Paul’s Cathedral was where “poore\nidlers” and “careless mal-contents” congregated--\n\n “Poets of Paules, those of Duke Humfrye’s messe\n That feed on nought but graves and emptinesse.”\n\nWhen Duke Humphrey’s Walk in St. Paul’s was burnt the name became\nattached to the walk in St. James’s Park, where idlers also sauntered.\nSome writers attri"} -{"id": 140, "text": "bute the transference of the name to the fact that\nthe arched walk under the trees was like the cathedral aisle. Anyhow\nthe name clung to this walk in the Park from 1666 and during the\neighteenth century.\n\nWhen Carlton House became the centre of attraction the Park itself was\nin a very neglected state. The canal was turbid, the grass long, and\nthe seats unpainted. How long it would have remained in this condition\nis uncertain had not a new impulse of gardening possessed the whole\nnation, and once more it was resolved to alter the entire Park.\n\nThe rage for landscape gardening was at its height. Capability Brown\nhad done his work of destruction, and set the fashion of “copying\nnature,” and his successors were following on his lines, but going\nmuch further even than Brown. The sight of a straight canal had become\nintolerable. The Serpentine was designed when the idea that it might be\npossible to make the banks of artificial sheets of water in anything\nbut a perfectly straight line was ju"} -{"id": 141, "text": "st dawning, but the canal in St.\nJames’s Park was transformed when half the stiff ponds and canals in\nthe kingdom had been twisted and turned into lakes or meres. Brown had\nhad a hand in the alterations at the time Rosamund’s Pond was removed,\nbut it was Eyton who planned and executed the work fifty years later.\nIt was begun in 1827, and a contemporary writer praises the result as\n“the best obliteration of avenues” that has been effected. Although he\nowns it involved “a tremendous destruction of fine elms,” he is lost\nin admiration of the “astounding ingenuity” which “converted a Dutch\ncanal into a fine flowing river, with incurvated banks, terminated\nat one end by a planted island and at the other by a peninsula.” A\npermanent bridge was first made across the water about this time.\nPreviously a temporary one had been made when the Allied Sovereigns\nvisited London in 1814--a kind of Chinese design by Nash, surmounted\nby a pagoda of seven storeys. It was this flimsy edifice which made\nCa"} -{"id": 142, "text": "nova say the thing that struck him most in England was that Waterloo\nBridge was the work of a private company, while this bridge was put up\nby the Government. It was on the canal in St. James’s Park that skates\nof a modern type first appeared in London. Bone ones were in use much\nearlier on Moorfields. Both Evelyn and Pepys saw the new pattern first\nin the Park in 1662. Two years later Pepys notes going to the canal\nwith the Duke of York, “where, though the ice was broken and dangerous,\nyet he would go slide upon his scates, which I did not like, but he\nslides very well.” Just before the alterations began, and the complete\nchange of the canal was taken in hand, the Park was lighted with gas\nlamps, an innovation which caused much excitement. At the same time\norders were issued to shut the gates by ten every evening. A wit on\nthis occasion wrote the following lines, which were found stuck up on a\ntree:--\n\n “The trees in the Park\n Are illumined with gas,\n But after it’s da"} -{"id": 143, "text": "rk\n No creatures can pass.\n\n “Ye sensible wights\n Who govern our fates,\n Extinguish your lights\n Or open your gates.”\n\nThe same lamps inspired another poet, who wrote, just before the\ndestruction of the avenues took place:--\n\n “Hail, Royal Park! what various charms are thine;\n Thy patent lamps pale Cynthia’s rays outshine,\n Thy limes and elms with grace majestic grow\n All in a row.”\n\nYet once more has St. James’s Park been subjected to renovation. The\nwork, which is a memorial to our late beloved Queen Victoria, is not\nyet completed, so its description must be imperfect. The design aims at\ndrawing together the several quarters of the Park towards Buckingham\nPalace and a central group of statuary. The Mall is now the scene of\nceaseless traffic, and the sauntering pedestrian is a thing of the\npast. A wide road runs at right angles across the Green Park, and so\nonce again more closely associates the Upper with the Lower St. James’s\n"} -{"id": 144, "text": "Park. Probably the greatest praise of the alterations would be to say\nthat Le Nôtre would have approved them. They seem to complete the\ndesign in a fitting manner, but they banish once and for all time, the\nsemi-rural character which for so many centuries clung to the Park.\nThe design includes a series of formal parterres which are filled with\nbedding-out plants raised in Hyde Park. In the summer of 1906 they were\nplanted with scarlet geraniums with an edging of grasses and foliage\nand a few golden privets, and on hot July days there were many people\nready to pronounce the arrangement as extremely bad taste. It seemed\na reversion to the days when a startling mass of colour was the only\neffect aimed at. As they appeared all through the mild October days,\nwhen a soft foggy light enveloped the world, and the trees looked\ndark and dreary, with their leaves, devoid of autumn tints, still\nstruggling to hold on, the vivid colouring of the beds gave a very\ndifferent impression. The charm of th"} -{"id": 145, "text": "e warm red tone against the cold\nblue mists must have given a sensation of pleasure to any one sensitive\nto such contrasts.\n\n[Illustration: A CORNER OF THE QUEEN VICTORIA MEMORIAL GARDENS, IN\nFRONT OF BUCKINGHAM PALACE]\n\nThe Park in spring has nothing of the stiff, early Victorian gardening\nleft. Under the trees crocuses raise their dainty heads, as cheerily as\nfrom out of Alpine snows, and the slopes of grass spangled with a “host\nof golden daffodils” are a delight to all beholders.\n\nThe palmy days of St. James’s Park may have passed away--no longer\nis the fate of nations and the happiness of lives decided under its\nancient elms--but those days have left their mark. Every path, every\ntree, every green-sward, could tell its story. The Park is now more\nbeautiful than it ever was, even though fashion has deserted it. The\nlast changes are but one more link in the long historic chain. It\nbrings the Park of the Stuarts, the Mall of the Queen Anne’s age of\nletters, down to our own great Quee"} -{"id": 146, "text": "n and the days of Expansion and\nEmpire. A stroll under its shady trees and by its sparkling water must\nbe replete with suggestions to the moralist, with thoughts to the poet,\nand with an inexpressible charm to the ordinary appreciative Londoner.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nREGENT’S PARK\n\n _When Philomel begins to sing\n The grass grows green and flowers spring;\n Methinks it is a pleasant thing\n To walk on Primrose Hill._\n\n --ROXBURGH BALLADS, _c._ 1620.\n\n\nRegent’s Park has had but a transitory day of fashion, and history has\nnot crowded it with associations like the other Royal Parks. It is the\nlargest and one of the most beautiful, yet there is something cold and\nless attractive about it. In spring, with its wealth of thorn trees, it\nhas a delightfully rural appearance, and it possesses many charms on\nclose acquaintance. Its history as a Royal Park is as ancient as that\nof Hyde Park or St. James’s, but it remained a distant country sporting\nestate, an"} -{"id": 147, "text": "d only assumed the form of a Park, in the modern sense of the\nword, less than a hundred years ago.\n\nIn the dim distance of Domesday it formed part of the manor of\nTybourne. Later on the manor became Marylebone or Mary le Bourne, the\nChurch of St. Mary by the Burn, the brook in question being the Tyburn.\nThe manor in Domesday is described as part of the lands belonging to\nthe Abbey of Barking in Essex. In the thirteenth century it was held\nby Robert de Vere, and passed by descent through his daughter to the\nEarls of Arundel. Later on the manor was divided, and a fourth share\ncame to Henry V. as heir to the Earls of Derby. The greater part of the\nmanor was bought by Thomas Hobson, and his son, who was Lord Mayor in\n1544, exchanged it with Henry VIII. for some church lands elsewhere.\nSo it became part of the royal hunting-ground, and the same enactment\nconcerning the preservation of game applied to Marylebone Park,\nsituated within the manor, as to Hyde Park. Queen Elizabeth leased part\nof"} -{"id": 148, "text": " the manor to a certain Edward Forset, and James I. sold him all the\nmanor except the part known as Marylebone Park, now Regent’s Park. It\nwas again sold by the grandson of Edward Forset to John Holles, Duke\nof Newcastle, and passed to his daughter, who married Edward Harley,\nEarl of Oxford, and through their daughter, who married the second\nEarl of Portland, to the Bentinck family. The Park has always remained\nCrown property, although it has frequently been let by the reigning\nsovereign. Charles I. granted it to Sir G. Strode and J. Wandesford as\na payment of a debt of £2318 for arms and ammunition. It was sold by\nCromwell with all the other royal lands, but after the Restoration it\nwent back to its former holders till the debt was discharged, and after\nthat to various other tenants. It was on the expiration of a lease to\nthe Duke of Portland in 1811 that the laying out of the Park in its\npresent form commenced.\n\nDuring the early period incidents connected with it are meagre. It is\nfo"} -{"id": 149, "text": "r the most part only in royal accounts that references to Marylebone\nPark are found, and they are merely a bare statement of facts. But\nthat hunting-parties, with all the show and splendour attending them,\ntook place frequently, is certain. Among the Loseley MSS. occur, in\n1554, instructions to Sir Thomas Cawarden, as “Master of the Tents\nand Toiles,” to superintend the making of “certaine banquiting houses\nof Bowes [= boughs] and other devices of pleasure.” One of these was\nmade in “Marybone Parke,” and a minute description is given. It was\n40 feet long, and “wrought by tymber, brick, and lyme, with their\nraunges and other necessary utensyles therto insident, and to the like\naccustomed.” Also three “standinges” were made at the same time, “all\nof tymber garnished with boughes and flowers, every [one] of them\nconteynenge in length 10 foote and in bredth 8 foote, which houses and\nstandings were so edified, repaired, garnished, decked, and fynyshed\nagainst the Marshall Saint Andrewes com"} -{"id": 150, "text": "ynge thethere by speciale and\nstraight comandement, as well of the late King as his counsell to\nSir Tho^{s.} Cawarden, Knt. M^{r.} of the said Office of Revels; and\nLawrence Bradshaw, Surveior of the King’s works, exhibited for the\nsame w^{t.} earnest charge done, wrought and attended between the 27th\nof June and the 2 of August in the said year” [4th of Edward VI.].\nEmployed on the above works for 22 days at all hours, a space to eat\nand drink excepted, “Carpenters, bricklayers, 1d. the hour; labourers,\n½d. p. hour; plasterers, 11d. a day; painters, 7d. and 6d. a day.”\n“Charges for cutting boughs in the wood at Hyde Park for trimming the\nbanquetting house, gathering rushes, flags, and ivy; painters, taylors\nfor sewing roof, etc., basket makers working upon windows, total cost,\n£169, 7s. 8d.” Only about half of this total was due to the work in\nMarylebone, as a similar pavilion, and three other “standings,” were\nmade in Hyde Park at the same time.\n\nHall, the chronicler of Henry VIII.’s"} -{"id": 151, "text": " time, inveighs against the\nfashion of making these sumptuous banqueting houses. They were not only\na regal amusement, but the citizens built in their suburban gardens\n“many faire Summer houses ... some of them like Mid-summer Pageants,\nwith Towers, Turrets, and Chimney tops, not so much for use or profit,\nas for shew and pleasure, and bewraying the vanity of men’s mindes,\nmuch unlike to the disposition of the ancient Citizens, who delighted\nin building of Hospitals and Almes-houses for the poore.” There stood\nin Marylebone parish a banqueting house where the Lord Mayor and\naldermen dined when they inspected the conduits of the Tybourne. On\none occasion they hunted a hare before dinner, and after, “they went\nto hunt the fox. There was a great cry for a mile, and at length the\nhounds killed him at the end of St. Giles.” During this run the hunt\nmust have skirted the royal preserves of Marylebone. In Elizabeth’s\ntime a hunting-party on 3rd February 1600 is recorded, in which the\n“Ambassa"} -{"id": 152, "text": "dor from the Emperor of Russia and the other Muscovites rode\nthrough the City of London to Marylebone Park, and there hunted at\ntheir pleasure, and shortly after returned homeward.”\n\nMarylebone was a retired spot for duels, and many took place there\ndown to the time when duelling ceased. The quarrel which led to one\nin Elizabeth’s reign is most typical of that age. Sir Charles Blount,\nafterwards Earl of Devonshire, handsome and dashing, distinguished\nhimself in the lists, and won the approbation of Queen Elizabeth.\nShe presented him with a chessman in gold, which he fastened on his\narm with a crimson ribbon. This aroused the jealousy of Essex, who\nsaid with scorn, “Now I perceive that every fool must have a favour.”\nWhereupon Blount challenged him. They met in Marylebone Park, and Essex\nwas disarmed and wounded in the thigh.\n\nIn Mary’s time the Park witnessed a warlike scene in connection with\none of the organised attempts to dethrone the Queen. The indictment of\nSir Nicholas Throgmort"} -{"id": 153, "text": "on for high treason, because he, with Sir Thomas\nWyatt and others, “conspired to depose and destroy the Queen,” states\nthat “the said Sir Nicholas plotted to take and hold the Tower, levy\nwar in Kent, Devonshire, etc., and, with Sir Henry Isley and others, on\n26 January 1554, rose with 2000 men, marched from Kent to Southwark,\nand by Brentford and Marylebone Park to London, the Queen being then\nat Westminster, but were overthrown by her army.” The incidents which\ncentre round this Park are few. Even in the accounts of all the royal\nlands it does not often occur. In 1607 one item in the Domestic State\nPapers, a list of nine parks, from each of which four bucks were to\nbe taken, includes Hyde Park, but Marylebone is not mentioned, and in\norders to the keepers it does not often occur.\n\nDuring the Commonwealth it comes more into notice, from the sad fact\nthat it was then sold and disparked, and the trees cut down. When\nCromwell sold it to “John Spencer of London, gent.,” the proceeds were\n"} -{"id": 154, "text": "settled on Col. Thomas Harrison’s regiment of dragoons for their pay.\nThe existing Ranger, John Carey, was turned out, and Sir John Ipsley\nput in his place. The price given for the Park was £13,215, 6s. 8d.,\nwhich included £130 for deer and £1774 for timber, exclusive of 2976\ntrees which were marked for the Royal Navy. Cromwell probably knew\nthe Park and its advantages well, as some years before, when he was a\nboy, his uncle had had permission to hunt in any of the royal forests.\nThe warrant is dated 15th June 1604, “to the lieutenants, wardens,\nand keepers of the forests, chases, and parks, to permit Sir Oliver\nCromwell, Knt., Gentleman of the Privy Chamber, to hunt where he shall\nthink fit.” The work of hewing the timber began at once. On October\n19, 1649, the Navy Commissioner was instructed to “repair the crane\nat Whitehall for boating timber, which is to go from Marylebone Park\nto the yards to build frigates.” Again, Sir Henry Mildmay was ordered\nto “confer with Mr. Carter, Survey"} -{"id": 155, "text": "or of Works, for the timber in\nMarylebone Park to be brought through Scotland Yard, to be boated there\nfor use of the navy.” Cromwell converted the Park to other uses, as in\nJune the same year orders were given to put to grass in Marylebone Park\nall the artillery horses “bought by Captain Tomlins for Ireland till\nMonday week.” That a number were turned out there for a time is clear\nfrom the further warrant, dated July 12, to “permit William Yarvell,\nCarriage Master, to put all the horses provided for Ireland, which\ncannot be accommodated in Marylebone Park, into Hyde Park to graze.” No\ndoubt they found excellent pasture, in spite of the game. Still, the\ndeer must have been fairly numerous, considering the price paid for\nthose left when the Park was sold. One hundred of the “best deer” were\nfirst ordered to be removed from there to St. James’s Park, “Colonel\nPride to see to the business.”\n\nAt the Restoration the former tenants were reinstated until the debt\nwas discharged, and John Care"} -{"id": 156, "text": "y was compensated for his loss of the\nrangership; but the Park was never re-stocked with deer. It is supposed\nthat the Queens, Mary and Elizabeth, sometimes resided at the Manor\nHouse belonging to the Manor, which stood at the south side of what\nis now Marylebone Road, and was built by Henry VIII. A drawing of the\nhouse in 1700 exists, and it is not the same as Oxford House, with\nwhich it has sometimes been confused, belonging to Lord Oxford, which\ncontained the celebrated Harleian collection of MSS. Henry VIII.’s\nManor House was pulled down in 1790. It is not until after that date\nthat anything further has to be recorded of the Park; until then\nit remained let out as farms. In 1793 Mr. White, architect to the\nDuke of Portland, the tenant of the Park from the Crown, approached\nMr. Fordyce, the Surveyor-General, with his ideas and plans for the\nimprovement of the whole of the area. During the previous fifty years\nthe streets and squares between Oxford Street and Marylebone had\nbeen grow"} -{"id": 157, "text": "ing up. Foley House, a large building, stood on the site of\nthe present Langham Hotel; and in the lease by which the land was\nheld from the Duke of Portland, it was covenanted that no buildings\nshould obstruct the view of Marylebone Park from this house. When,\nin 1772, the Brothers Adam designed Portland Place, they made it the\nentire width of Foley House, so that the agreement was fulfilled to\nthe letter. In those days the street ended where No. 8 Portland Place\nnow stands; then came the railings which enclosed Marylebone Fields,\nwith its buttercup meadows and country lanes and hedgerows. White’s\nidea commended itself to Fordyce, and he approached the Treasury on\nthe subject. The total area, according to the survey in 1794, was 543\nac. 17 p. This was disposed chiefly between three farms of about 288,\n133, and 117 acres respectively. From the first all the plans embraced\nextensive buildings, as well as a proportion of park. Inspired by\nFordyce, the Treasury offered a prize, not exceedi"} -{"id": 158, "text": "ng £1000, for the\nbest design, and several were submitted. Fordyce aimed at something\nbetween the most extreme votaries of the landscape school and the\nolder, debased, formal styles--a compromise which Loudon was at that\ntime trying to bring into vogue. A “union of the ancient and modern\nstyles of planting,” he called it, which led by stages to the Italian\nparterres and brilliant bedding out of the early Victorian gardens.\nFordyce did not live to see any plan put into execution. At his\ndeath the Surveyor-General of Land Revenues and the Commissioners\nof Woods and Forests were amalgamated, and Leverton and Chawner,\narchitects to the former, and Nash, architect to the latter, submitted\ndesigns--Nash’s being eventually accepted. The other design cut up the\nwhole ground into ornamental villas with pleasure grounds, with a sort\nof village green or central square, with a church in the middle, and a\nsite for a market and barracks. White’s views were more like Nash’s in\nsome respects, as he ha"} -{"id": 159, "text": "d artificial water and a drive round the Park.\nThe lease held by the Duke of Portland fell in, in 1811, and soon after\nthe work of carrying out Nash’s design was begun by James Morgan. The\nRegent’s Park Canal was included in the same plan, and begun in 1812\nand finished in 1820. Its length from Paddington to Limehouse is 8¾\nmiles, and the total fall 84 feet.\n\n[Illustration: AUTUMN IN REGENT’S PARK]\n\nAlthough the planting and levelling began in 1812, the buildings rose\nup slowly. Of the villas in the Park only two were built in 1820, the\nrent demanded for the ground being extremely high. But two or three\nyears later the whole thing was more or less as it is now, so far as\nthe general outline and buildings are concerned. The cost by May 1826\nwas £1,533,582, and the estimated probable revenue £36,330. The Prince\nRegent took the greatest interest in the proceedings, and Nash’s design\nincluded a site for a palace for him, though even contemporary writers\ncondemned the suggestion, as the sit"} -{"id": 160, "text": "uation was damp--“the soil was\nclay, ... and the view bad.” It was only natural that the Park should\nhenceforth become the Regent’s, and not Marylebone Park, and the “new\nstreet” to connect it with Carlton House be called Regent Street.\n\nIt is difficult to judge Regent’s Park with an unprejudiced eye.\nThe exaggerated praise it called forth when just completed is only\nequalled by the unmeasured censure of the next generation. Of the\nhouses which surround it the following are two descriptions. The first,\nin 1855, calls them “highly-embellished terraces of houses, in which\nthe Doric and Ionic, the Corinthian, and even the Tuscan orders have\nbeen employed with ornate effect, aided by architectural sculpture.”\nFifty years later the same houses are summed up with very different\nepithets: “Most of the ugly terraces which surround it exhibit all\nthe worst follies of the Grecian architectural mania which disgraced\nthe beginning of this century”! It may not be a style which commends\nitself to mo"} -{"id": 161, "text": "dern taste, but one thing is certain, that having embarked\non classical architecture it was best to stick to it and complete\nthe whole. It is as much a bit of history, and as typical of the\nage, as Elizabethan or Tudor architecture is of theirs, and as such\nit is best to treat Regent’s Park as an interesting example of early\nnineteenth-century taste.\n\nThis ground was country when building was begun, and when one thinks\nof the streets and crescents that grow up when the country touches\nthe town, and the incongruous ugliness of most of them, there is much\nto be said for the substantial uniformity of Regent’s Park. What can\nbe argued from the surroundings of the other parks? Would Regent’s\nPark have been improved by the erection of rows of houses of the\nQueen Anne’s Mansion type? One cannot help wondering what Stowe would\nhave thought of such a production, when he instances “a remarkable\npunishment of Pride in high buildings,” how a man who built himself\na tower in Lime Street, to overloo"} -{"id": 162, "text": "k his neighbours, was very soon\n“tormented with gouts in his joynts, of his hands and legs”--that he\ncould go no “further than he was led, much lesse was he able to climbe”\nhis tower! What retribution would he have thought sufficiently severe\nfor the perpetrators of Park Row Buildings, New York, with their\nthirty-two storeys?\n\nAnyhow, Regent’s Park was welcomed by the generation who watched it\ngrow. A writer in 1823 says: “When first we saw that Marylebone Fields\nwere enclosed, and that the hedgerow walks which twined through them\nwere gradually being obliterated and the whole district artificially\nlaid out, ... we underwent a painful feeling or two.... A few years,\nhowever, have elapsed, and we are not only reconciled to the change\nalluded to, but rejoice in it. A noble Park is rapidly rising up, and\na vast space, close to the metropolis, not only preserved from the\nencroachment of mean buildings, but laid out with groves, lakes, and\nvillas, ... while through the place there is a wind"} -{"id": 163, "text": "ing road, which\ncommands at every turn some fresh feature of an extensive country\nprospect.” This enthusiast winds up by saying, “We do not envy the\napathy of the Englishman who can walk through these splendid piles\nwithout feeling his heart swell with national pride.” We may smile at\nsuch high-sounding language, but, after all, it was an innocent form\nfor national pride to take.\n\nThe special feature which the plan of the Park embraced, was the\nvillas, standing in their own pleasure grounds. These were all built in\nthe same Grecian style--most of them designed by Decimus Burton, who\nwas also the architect of Cornwall Terrace, the only one not by Nash.\nSt. Dunstan’s Villa, now belonging to Lord Aldenham, and containing\nhis precious library, was his work. It was built by the Marquis of\nHertford, and the name is taken from the two giant wooden figures of\nGog and Magog, which formerly stood by St. Dunstan’s Church in Fleet\nStreet. They had been placed there in 1671, and struck the hours on"} -{"id": 164, "text": " a\nlarge clock (the work of Thomas Harrys), one of the curiosities of the\nCity. It was with reference to them that Cowper’s lines on a feeble,\nuninspired poet were written:--\n\n “When Labour and when Dullness, club in hand,\n Like the two figures of St. Dunstan’s stand,\n Beating alternately, in measured time,\n The clock-work tintinabulum of rhyme,\n Exact and regular the sounds will be,\n But such mere quarter strokes are not for me.”\n\nLord Hertford used to be taken to see them as a child, and had a\nchild’s longing to possess the monsters. Unlike most childish dreams,\nhe was able, when the church was rebuilt in 1832, to realise it and\nto purchase the figures, and remove them to strike the hours in his\nnew villa. St. John’s Lodge is another of these detached villas, with\na fascinating garden, built by Burton, for Sir Francis Henry Goldsmid;\nand also in the inner circle there is South Villa, with an observatory,\nerected in 1837 by Mr. George Bishop, from which va"} -{"id": 165, "text": "rious stars and\nasteroids were discovered by Dawes and Hinde.\n\nThe most interesting of the houses in the park is St. Katharine’s\nLodge, not from any special beauty of its own, but from the sad\nassociation of its history. On the east of the road which encircles\nthe Park is St. Katharine’s Hospital, built by A. Poynter, a pupil of\nNash, in 1827, when the “act of barbarism” of removing the Hospital\nfrom the East End was committed. The home of the Hospital, with its\nchurch and almshouses, was close to the Tower, and after a peaceful\nexistence of nearly seven hundred years it was completely swept away to\nmake room for more docks. There is nothing to redeem the crude look of\nuselessness that the new buildings in Regent’s Park present. They seem\nout of place, and as if stranded there by accident. Even thirty years\nafter their removal an official report on the revenues of the hospital\nshows some signs of repentance. The writers sum up the increased\nincome, then about £11,000 a year, and wonder"} -{"id": 166, "text": " if in this far-away spot\nit is being put to the best uses; and the report even goes so far as to\nsuggest its restoration to the populous East End, where the recipients\nof the charity would spend their lives in the cure of souls, or as\nnurses and mission-women among the poor. Since then, an improvement has\nset in as it has become the Central House for Nurses for the Poor,\nknown as the Jubilee Nurses, as the funds to provide them were raised\nby the women of England as a Jubilee Gift to Queen Victoria.\n\nThe Hospital of St. Katharine was founded by Queen Matilda, “wife to\nKing Stephen, by licence of the Prior and Convent of the Holy Trinity\nin London, on whose ground she founded it. Elianor the Queene, wife\nto King Edward the First, a second Foundresse, appointed to be there,\none Master, three Brethren Chaplaines and three Sisters, ten poore\nwomen, and six poore clerkes. She gave to them the Manor of Clarton in\nWiltshire and Upchurch in Kent, etc. Queene Philip, wife to King Edward\nthe Th"} -{"id": 167, "text": "ird, 1351, founded a Chauntry there, and gave to that Hospital\ntenne pound land by yeere; it was of late time [1598] called a free\nChappell, a Colledge and an Hospital for poore sisters. The Quire which\n(of late yeares) was not much inferior to that of Pauls, was dissolved\nby Doctor Wilson, a late Master there.” Such is Stowe’s account of the\nfoundation.\n\nEven in those days the district was becoming crowded, “pestered with\nsmall Tenements,” chiefly owing to the influx from Calais, Hammes, and\nGuisnes when those places were lost in Mary’s reign. Many, “wanting\nHabitation,” were allowed a “Place belonging to St. Katharine’s.”\nThe curious name, “Hangman’s Gains,” in that locality was said to be\nderived from a corruption of two of the places the refugees came from.\n\nIn Henry VIII.’s time a Guild or Fraternity was “founded in the Church\nof this Hospital of St. Katharine to the Honour of St. Barbara.”\nKatharine of Aragon and Henry VIII. and Cardinal Wolsey belonged to\nit, and many other “hon"} -{"id": 168, "text": "ourable persons.” The object was to secure a\nhome for any “Brother or Sister who fell into Decay of worldly Goods\nas by Sekenes or Hurt by the Warrys, or upon Land or See, or by any\nother means.” Those belonging to the Fraternity who had paid the full\nsum due, namely 10s. 4d., in “money, plate, or any other honest stufe,”\nwere entitled to fourteen pence a week, house-room and bedding, “and a\nwoman to wash his clothes and to dresse his mete; and so to continue\nYere by Yere and Weke by Weke durynge his Lyfe,” like a modern benefit\nsociety. The fine old church contained many monuments, some of which\nwere transferred to the new church when the removal took place. Among\nthem the effigy of John Holland, Duke of Exeter, and one of his wives,\ndating from 1447, reposes under a fine canopy. The stalls and pulpit of\nthe sixteenth century were also brought to the new building. Thus shorn\nof all its associations and all its beauty, the foundation remains,\nlike a flower ruthlessly transplanted too l"} -{"id": 169, "text": "ate to take root and regain\nits former charm.\n\nThe Master’s house makes a most delightful residence, and has always\nbeen let. Mr. Marley, the present tenant, who has filled the house\nwith works of art, has made a very charming garden also, more like an\nItalian than an English villa garden, as the view reproduced in this\nvolume testifies.\n\nThree Societies occupy pieces of ground within the Park. The most\nancient and least well known is the Toxophilite. Archery has for many\nhundred years been practised by the citizens of London. The ground\nchosen for shooting was chiefly near Islington, Hoxton, and Shoreditch.\nTo encourage the use of bows and arrows Henry VIII. ordered Sir\nChristopher Morris, Master of Ordnance, to form the “Fraternitye or\nGuylde of Saint George” about 1537, and these archers used to shoot\nin Spital Fields. About the time of the Spanish Armada the Honourable\nArtillery Company was formed, which possessed a company of archers,\nand for over two hundred years archery was kep"} -{"id": 170, "text": "t alive by this corps,\nand, following them, by the Finsbury Archers. Just at the time when the\ncorps was abolished Sir Ashton Lever formed the Toxophilite Society\nin 1781, and the archers of the Honourable Artillery Company became\nmerged in the new Society, which then shot on Blackheath. George IV.\nbelonged to it, and it henceforth became the Royal Toxophilite Society,\nand settled on ground given to it in Regent’s Park in 1834, where it\nremains, as the lineal descendant of the old historic Guild of Archers.\nIt possesses several interesting relics; a shield given by Queen Mary,\nand silver cups of the Georgian period, besides a valuable collection\nof bows and arrows. The hall where the members meet, built when the\nSociety moved to Regent’s Park, and added to since, has beneath it\nsome curious cellars with underground passages branching off from\nthem, which it has been suggested may have been part of the outhouses\nbelonging to the Royal Manor House, which stood not far off, on ground\nnow "} -{"id": 171, "text": "outside the Park. The large iron hooks that were until recently\nin the cellar walls, seemed suggestive of venison from the Park for\nthe royal table. The ground of the Society is suitably laid out, with\na fine sunk lawn for the archery practice. By an arrangement with the\nToxophilite Society, “the Skating Club” have their own pavilion, and\nthe lawn is flooded during the winter for their use. There is so much\ntalk about the change of the climate of England, and of the so-called\nold-fashioned winters, that the record kept by this Skating Club since\nits foundation in 1830 of the number of skating days in each winter is\ninstructive. Taking the periods of ten years during the first decade,\n1830–40, there was an average of 10.2 skating days per winter. In\n1833–34 there were none, in 1837–38 thirty-seven days. Between 1850–60\nthe average was only 8.5, while the last ten years of the century it\nwas 16.8. It is difficult to see how any argument could be deduced from\nsuch figures in favour of the"} -{"id": 172, "text": " excess of cold in the good old days! When\nthe freezing of the Thames is quoted to prove the case, people forget\nthat the Thames has completely changed. The narrow piers of old London\nBridge no longer get stopped with ice-floes, and the current is much\nmore rapid now that the whole length is properly embanked. In the days\nwhen coaches plied from Westminster to the Temple Stairs as in 1684, or\nwhen people dwelt on the Thames in tents for weeks in 1740, all the low\nland was flooded and the stream wider and more sluggish. The believers\nin the hard winters generally maintain the springs were warmer than\nnow, May Day more like what poets pictured, even allowing the eleven\ndays later for our equivalent. But in 1614 there was snow a foot deep\nin April, and those who went in search of flowers on May Day only got\nsnowflakes. In 1698, on May 8th, there was a deep fall of snow all over\nEngland, and many other instances might be quoted. So it seems, though\npeople may grumble now, their ancestors w"} -{"id": 173, "text": "ere no better off.\n\nIn the centre of the ground is the Royal Botanical Society of London,\nfounded in 1839. At one time the Society was greatly in fashion, and\nthe membership was eagerly sought after. No doubt such will be the\ncase again, although for some reason the immense advance in gardening\nduring the last ten years has not met with the response looked for\nfrom this Society, and hence a certain decrease instead of increase in\npopularity--a phase which can but be transitory. The botanical portions\nof the grounds illustrative of the natural orders were arranged by\nJames de Carle Sowerby, son of the author of the well-known “English\nBotany,” assisted by Dr. Frederick Farre and others, and the ornamental\npart of the garden, with the lake, by Marnoch. The designs were\nseverely criticised by Loudon in the first instance, who prophesied\nfailure to the garden, but was well satisfied when the modified plans\nwere announced. Some of the earliest flower shows in the modern sense\nwere held ther"} -{"id": 174, "text": "e. And this Society was the pioneer in exhibitions of\nspring flowers. The first was held in 1862, and was quite a novel\ndeparture, although summer and autumn floral shows had been instituted\nfor more than thirty years. These exhibitions and fêtes became very\nfashionable, and people flocked to them, and numbers joined the\nSociety. It is always difficult to combine two objects, and this is the\nproblem the Botanical Society now has to face. It is almost impossible\nto keep up the Botanical side and at the same time make a bid for\npopular public support by turning the grounds partly into a Tea Garden.\nNow that gardening is more the fashion than it has ever been, it is sad\nto see this ancient Society taking a back place instead of leading.\nIt is actual horticulture that now engrosses people, the practical\ncultivation of new and rare plants, the raising and hybridising of\nflorists’ varieties. The time for merely well-kept lawns and artificial\nwater and a few masses of bright flowers, which wa"} -{"id": 175, "text": "s all the public\nasked for in the Sixties, has gone by. A thirst for new flowers, for\nstrange combinations of colours, for revivals of long-forgotten plants\nand curious shrubs, has now taken possession of the large circle of\npeople who profess to be gardeners. Apart from the question whether the\npresent fashion has taken the best direction for the advancement of\nbotany and horticulture, it is evident no society can prosper unless it\ndirects its attention to suit the popular fancy. No doubt this worthy\nSociety will realise this, and emerge triumphant from its present\nembarrassments.\n\nThe third and best known of the societies is the Zoological one. What\nLondon child has not spent moments of supreme joy mingled with awe on\nthe back of the forbearing elephant? And there are few grown persons\nwho do not share with them the delight of an hour’s stroll through the\n“Zoo.” More than ever, with the improved aviaries and delightful seal\nponds, is the Zoo attractive. It was the first of the three "} -{"id": 176, "text": "Societies\nto settle in the Park, having been there since 1826. Some of the\noriginal buildings were designed by Decimus Burton, who, next to Nash,\nis the architect most associated with the Park. The Society was the\nidea of Sir Thomas Raffles, who became the first President in 1825.\nIn three years there were over 12,000 members, and the gardens were\nthronged by 30,000 visitors. A pass signed by a member was necessary\nfor the admission of every party of people, besides the payment of a\nshilling each. An abuse of this soon crept in, and people waited at the\ngates to attach themselves to the parties entering, and well-dressed\nyoung ladies begged the kindness of members who were seen approaching\nthe gates. Now only Sunday admittance is dependent on the members. A\nGuide to Regent’s Park in 1829 gives engravings of many of the animals,\nand shows the summer quarters of the monkeys--most quaint arrangements,\nlike a pigeon cot on a pole, to which the monkey with chain and ring\nwas attached, to ra"} -{"id": 177, "text": "ce up and down at will.\n\n[Illustration: STONE VASE IN REGENT’S PARK]\n\nThe only alterations of importance after the completion of the Park\nwere the making of the flower garden, and the filling up of the\nartificial water to a uniform depth of 4 feet, after a terrible\naccident had occurred in 1867, when the ice broke and forty skaters\nlost their lives. The flower-beds are now one of the most attractive\nfeatures in the Park, and were originally designed by Nesfield in 1863.\nThe centre walk continues the line of the “Broad Walk” avenue at its\nsouthern end. In the middle is a fine stone vase supported by griffins,\nand other stone ornaments in keeping with the formal style.\n\nThe frame-ground in Regent’s Park has to be a spacious one, to produce\nall that is required in the way of spring and summer plants. The fogs\nare the greatest enemies of the London gardener, and more especially\non the heavier soil of Regent’s Park. Not even the most hardy of the\nbedding-out plants will survive the winter, "} -{"id": 178, "text": "unless in frames. Even\nwall-flowers and forget-me-nots will perish with a single bad night of\nfog, unless under glass. Although, on the other hand, it is surprising\nhow some species apparently unsuited to withstand the climate will\nsurvive. Among the rock plants growing in a private rock-garden within\nthe Park _Azalia procumbens_, that precarious Alpine, is perfectly at\nhome. Clumps of _Cypripedium spectabele_ come up and flower year after\nyear, and _Arnebia echioides_, the prophet flower, by no means easy to\ngrow, seems quite established. But to return to the frame-ground, from\nwhence all the bedding plants emanate. Violas are a special feature\nin the Park, and one which is much to be commended, as their season\nof beauty is so protracted. They are all struck in frames, one row of\nfifty-three lights being devoted to them, in which 23,750 cuttings are\nput annually. The green-houses are used for storing plants not only for\nthe decoration of the Park but for some fourteen other places out"} -{"id": 179, "text": "side.\nThe Tower, the Law Courts, Mint, Audit Office, the Mercantile Marine\nin Poplar, are all supplied from Regent’s Park. The Tate Gallery and\nHertford House have to be catered for also. Whether the visitors to the\nWallace Collection even notice the plants it is impossible to say; they\nmight miss their absence. But the gardeners have to give these few pots\nconsiderable care, as they will only stand for a very short time\ninside the building, and after three weeks’ visit return to hospital.\n\n[Illustration: SPRING IN REGENT’S PARK]\n\nOf late years a considerable alteration has been made in the\narrangement of the beds in the flower-garden of the Park, chiefly with\na view to reducing the bedding and yet obtaining a better effect. Long\nherbaceous borders have been substituted for one of the rows of formal\nbeds, requiring a constant succession of plants. This has necessitated\nthe removal of some of the flowers shown in the view of this garden\ntaken in the spring. The loss of these is compensa"} -{"id": 180, "text": "ted by the new\narrangement of beds, separated from the Park by a hedge and flowering\nshrubs.\n\nVery few of the old trees remain in Regent’s Park; what became\nof them between the time when only a portion were marked for the\nnavy by Cromwell, and the present day, there is no record as yet\nforthcoming. Two elms near the flower-garden are, however, remarkably\nfine specimens, as the branches feather on to the ground all round. A\n_Paulownia tomentosa_ is well worthy of notice. It must have been one\nof the earliest to be planted in this country, and is a large spreading\ntree. It stands on what is known as the Mound, near Chester Gate.\nNineteen years ago it flowered, and in the unusually warm autumn of\n1906 it was covered with buds of blossom, all ready to expand, when,\nalas! the long-delayed frost arrived in October, just too soon for them\nto come to perfection. Not far from it is a large tree of _Cotoneaster\nfrigida_, which has masses of red berries every year.\n\nThe railings of Regent’s Park "} -{"id": 181, "text": "have always been of timber, but it\nis now threatened to alter this survival of the days when it first\nchanged from Marylebone Farm. The present timber fence has stood for\nforty years, so even from an economical point of view iron, which\nrequires painting, could not be recommended. It is to be hoped the old\ntraditional style of fence of this delightful Park may be continued.\n\nTo the north of Regent’s Park, and only divided from it by a road,\nlies Primrose Hill. This curious conical hill, 216 feet high, so well\nknown as an open space enjoyed by the public, formerly belonged to Eton\nCollege, but became Crown property about the middle of last century,\nand is now under the Office of Works, who keep it in order, and have\ndone all the planting which has of late years improved this otherwise\nbare eminence. Some of the guide-books to London refer to the lines\nof Mother Shipton’s prophecy that Primrose Hill “must one day be the\ncentre of London.” The passage this is supposed to be based on, is t"} -{"id": 182, "text": "hat\nwhich used to be said to foretell railways, and now people see in it a\nforeshadowing of motor cars. At one time also the marriage reference\nwhich is in the same poem was applied to Queen Victoria. The lines are\nthese--\n\n “Carriages without horses shall go,\n And accidents fill the world with woe:\n Primrose Hill in London shall be,\n And in its centre a Bishop’s see.\n\n * * * * *\n\n The British Olive next shall twine,\n In marriage with the German Vine.”\n\nThe early editions of the prophecy contain none of these lines except\nthe two last, which are quoted in the 1687 edition, and are there\ninterpreted to refer to the marriage of Elizabeth, daughter of James\nI., and the Elector Palatine. The Primrose Hill lines first made their\nappearance in 1877! So, although now quite surrounded by houses, and\nwell within the County of London, that this would be so in time to\ncome, was not foretold three hundred years ago.\n\nThe delightfully"} -{"id": 183, "text": " rural name dates from the time of Queen Elizabeth, and\nis said to be derived from the number of primroses which grew there.\nThe earlier name was Barrow Hill, from supposed ancient burials. After\nthe mysterious murder of Sir Edmondsbury Godfrey in October 1678, his\nbody was found in a ditch at the foot of the hill. At one time the\nsuperstitious thought his ghost haunted the place, and a contemporary\nmedal has this inscription--\n\n “Godfrey walks up hill after he was dead;\n [St.] Denis walks down hill carrying his head.”\n\nThe fresh air and pleasant view from the top of the hill, and the\ncheery sounds of games, have long ago dispelled all these gloomy\nmemories.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nGREENWICH PARK\n\n _Towered cities please us then,\n And the busy hum of men,\n Where throngs of knights and barons bold\n In weeds of peace high triumphs hold,\n With store of ladies, whose bright eyes\n Rain influence, and judge the prize\n Of wit, or arms, while both contend\n "} -{"id": 184, "text": " To win her grace, whom all commend._\n\n --MILTON.\n\n\nIt would not occur to most people to reckon Greenwich among the\nLondon Parks. But it is well within the bounds of the County of\nLondon, and now so easy of access that it should have no difficulty in\nsubstantiating its claim to be one of the most beautiful among them.\nBoth for natural features and historic interest it is one of the most\nfascinating.\n\nIts Spanish chestnuts are among the distinguishing characteristics,\nand although smoke is slowly telling on them, numbers of these sturdy\ntimber trees are still in their prime, and it would be hard to find a\nmore splendid collection in any part of the country. One of the giants\nis 20 feet in girth at 3 feet from the ground, and contains 200 feet of\ntimber.\n\nThose who are the ready champions of the rights of the people to the\ncommon lands, and who justly inveigh against all encroachments, must\nfeel bound to admit that, in the case of Greenwich Park, wh"} -{"id": 185, "text": "at they\nwould call pilfering in other instances is thoroughly justified. The\nland which forms the Park was part of Blackheath until Henry VI., in\nthe fifteenth year of his reign, gave his uncle Humphrey, Duke of\nGloucester, licence to enclose 200 acres of the wood and heath “to make\na park in Greenwich.”\n\nThe modern history of Greenwich Park may be said to begin in Duke\nHumphrey’s time, but it was a favourite resort long before that.\nSituated on the high ground above the marshy banks of the river, and\nnear the Watling Street between London and Dover, Greenwich was found\nsuitable for country residence in Roman times. On one of the hills in\nthe Park, with a commanding view over the river, the remains of a Roman\nvilla have been excavated. Over 300 coins were found, dating from 35\nB.C. to A.D. 423. Bronzes, pottery, a tesselated pavement, and the\nremains of painted plaster were discovered, showing that it must have\nbeen a villa of “taste and elegance,” and there were indications that\nthe f"} -{"id": 186, "text": "inal destruction of this charming abode was by fire. A peep into\nthe past might reveal the last of its Roman occupants flying before the\nbarbarian Jute.\n\nDoubtless in its prime there would be a garden near the villa--perhaps\na faint imitation of those Roman gardens like Pliny’s. There, “in front\nof the portico,” was “a sort of terrace, embellished with various\nfigures and bounded with a box-hedge,” which descended “by an easy\nslope, adorned with the representation of divers animals in box,” to a\nsoft lawn. There were shady trees and a splashing fountain, and sunny\nwalks to form “a very pleasing contrast,” where the air was “perfumed\nwith roses.” The slopes of Greenwich may have presented such a scene in\nthe days when Roman galleys rowed up the Thames.\n\nIn another part of the Park, Roman graves have been found, and other\nburying-places of a later date suggest a very different picture from\nthat of Roman times. These tumuli are very numerous, and although over\ntwenty remain, a much greate"} -{"id": 187, "text": "r number existed, and have been rifled from\ntime to time, or excavated, as in 1784, when some fifty were opened,\nand braids of human hair, fragments of woollen cloth, and beads were\nfound. These graves suggest the occupation of these heights by the\nDanes, who were encamped there for some three years about 1011. Wild\nand lawless must have been the aspect then, and the incident that\nstands out prominently is the martyrdom of St. Alphege, the Archbishop,\nslain here by the Danes in 1012.\n\nThere was probably some royal residence at Greenwich from the time\nof Edward I., but it was not until it came to Humphrey, Duke of\nGloucester, that the Palace much used in Tudor times was built. This\nbuilding faced the Thames, and went by the name of “Placentia” or\n“Plaisance,” and round it there was a garden. The royal licence, which\ngave the Duke leave to enclose a portion of the heath, provided that\nhe might also build “Towers of stone and lime.” The tower stood on the\nhill now crowned by the Observato"} -{"id": 188, "text": "ry, and was pulled down when Charles\nII. had the Observatory erected from designs by Wren in 1675. The plan\nincluded a well 100 feet deep, at the bottom of which the astronomer\nFlamsteed could lie and observe the heavens. All through the earlier\nhistory of the Park this tower must have been a conspicuous object.\nDuring Tudor times Greenwich was much lived in by the Sovereign,\nand many a gay pageant enlivened the Park. Jousts and tournaments,\nChristmas games and May Day frolics, were of yearly recurrence in the\nearly days of Henry VIII. The Court moved there regularly to “bring in\nthe May.” A picturesque account is given of one of these merry-makings\nby the Venetian Ambassador and his Secretary. The Ambassador was\ncharmed with the King. “Not only,” he writes, is he “very expert in\narms and of great valour, and most excellent in personal endowment,\nbut is likewise so gifted and adorned with mental accomplishments of\nevery sort.” He joined in the May Day proceedings, which must indeed\nhav"} -{"id": 189, "text": "e presented a brilliant spectacle, with the oaks and hawthorn, and\nall the wild beauty of Greenwich Park, as a background. Katharine\nof Aragon, “most excellently attired and very richly, and with her\ntwenty-five damsels mounted on white palfreys, with housings of the\nsame fashion most beautifully embroidered in gold,” and followed by\n“a number of footmen,” rode out into the wood, where “they found the\nKing with his guard, all clad in a livery of green with bowers [boughs]\nin their hands, and about 100 noblemen on horseback, all gorgeously\narrayed.” “In this wood were certain bowers filled purposely with\nsinging birds, which carrolled most sweetly.” Music played, and a\nbanquet under the trees followed, then the procession with the King and\nQueen together returned to the Palace. The crowds flocking round them\nthe Venetian estimated “to exceed ... 25,000 persons.”\n\nQueen Mary was born at Greenwich, and there she was betrothed to\nthe Dauphin of France. She resided here much during her shor"} -{"id": 190, "text": "t and\ntroublous reign; and perhaps her fondness for this Palace came from the\nassociation of her early youth, when she was the centre of attraction.\nGreenwich cannot always have been pleasant for the Princess Mary, for\nhere came Anne Boleyn. From Greenwich she was escorted in state to\nLondon by the Lord Mayor, who was summoned by the King to fetch her,\nand from Greenwich she was taken up the river, her last melancholy\njourney to the Tower. The oak under which Henry VIII. is said to have\ndanced with her is still standing. It is a huge, old, hollow stem,\nthough quite dead, kept upright by the ivy. The trunk has a hole 6 feet\nin diameter, and it is known as Queen Elizabeth’s Oak, as tradition\nalso says she took refreshments inside it. It was fitted with a door,\nand those who transgressed the rules of the Park were confined in\nthis original prison. It was at Greenwich that Queen Elizabeth was\nborn; and to Greenwich Henry brought his fourth bride, when poor Anne\nBoleyn’s short-lived favour "} -{"id": 191, "text": "was at an end, and Jane Seymour dead. The\nless beautiful Anne of Cleves, who so signally failed to please the\nKing, was escorted in state from Calais by thirty gentlemen, with their\nservants, “in cotes of black velvet with cheines of gold about their\nneckes.” On January 3, 1540, the King rode up from the Palace to meet\nher on Blackheath with noblemen, knights, and gentlemen, and citizens,\nall in velvet with gold chains. The King rode a horse with rich\ntrappings of gold damask studded with pearls, a coat of purple velvet\nslashed with gold, and a bonnet decorated with “unvalued gems.” Anne\ncame out of her tent on the Heath to meet him, clad in cloth of gold,\nand mounted on a horse with trappings embroidered with her arms, a lion\nsable. She rode right through the Park from the Black Heath to the\nnorthern gate and round through the town to the Palace, the guns firing\nfrom the Tower in her honour.\n\nIt was at Greenwich that the boy king, Edward VI., died, and Mary and\nElizabeth were constant"} -{"id": 192, "text": "ly there. Their state barges bearing them to and\nfrom the Palace must have been no uncommon sight on the Thames. It was\non landing on one of these occasions that the famous episode of Sir\nWalter Raleigh laying his cloak in the mud for the Queen to tread on,\nhappened. One of the many brilliant scenes in the Park took place after\nElizabeth’s accession, when the citizens of London, overjoyed, wished\nto give her a very special greeting. It was on July 2, 1559, that “the\nCity of London entertained the Queen at Greenwich with a muster, each\nCompany sending out a certain number of men-at-arms” (1400 in all), “to\nher great delight.... On the 1st of July they marched out of London in\ncoats of velvet and chaines of gold, with guns, moris pikes, halberds,\nand flags; and so over London Bridge unto the Duke of Suffolk’s Park\nin Southwark; where they all mustered before the Lord Mayor, and lay\nabroad in St. George’s Fields all that night. The next morning they\nremoved towards Greenwich to the Court "} -{"id": 193, "text": "there; and thence to Greenwich\nPark. Here they tarried till eight of the clock; then they marched down\ninto the Lawn, and mustered in arms: all the gunners in shirts of mail.\nAt five of the clock at night the Queen came into the gallery over the\nPark Gate, with the Ambassadors, Lords, and Ladies, to a great number.\nThe Lord Marquis, Lord Admiral, Lord Dudley, and divers other Lords and\nKnights, rode to and fro to view them, and to set the two battles in\narray to skirmish before the Queen: then came the trumpets to blow on\neach part, the drums beating, and the flutes playing. There were given\nthree onsets in every battle; the guns discharged on one another, the\nmoris pikes encountered together with great alarm; each ran to their\nweapons again, and then they fell together as fast as they could, in\nimitation of close fight. All this while the Queen, with the rest of\nthe Nobles about her, beheld the skirmishings.... After all this, Mr.\nChamberlain, and divers of the Commons of the City and"} -{"id": 194, "text": " the Wiflers,\ncame before her Grace, who thanked them heartily, and all the City:\nwhereupon immediately was given the greatest shout as ever was heard,\nwith hurling up of caps. And the Queen shewed herself very merry. After\nthis was a running at tilt. And lastly, all departed home to London.”\n\nThis fête took place on a Sunday, and the time between the muster and\nthe fight was probably mostly spent in refreshment. The account for\nthe supplies of the “Mete and Drynke” for 1st day of July and Sunday\nnight supper is preserved. They were far from being starved, as, among\nother items, 9 geese, 14 capons, 8 chickens, 3 quarters and 2 necks of\nmutton, 4 breasts of veal, beside a sirloin of beef, venison pasties, 8\nmarrow-bones, fresh sturgeon, 3 gallons of cream, and other delicacies\nwere provided for them. Floral decorations in their honour were not\nforgotten, and appear in the accounts--“gely flowers and marygolds for\niii garlands, 7d.; strawynge herbes, 1/4; bowes for the chemneys, 1d.;\nflo"} -{"id": 195, "text": "wers for the potts in the wyndowys, 6d.”\n\nThere is no end to the gay scenes that the Park and even some of\nthe most ancient trees have witnessed. “Goodly banquetting houses”\nwere built of “fir poles decked with birch branches and all manner\nof flowers both of the field and garden, as roses, gilly flowers,\nlavender, marigold, and all manner of strewing herbs and rushes” (10th\nJuly 1572); and many a brilliant pageant took place under the greenwood\ntree as well as in the Palace, where Shakespeare acted before the Queen.\n\nAlthough the days of sumptuous pageantry ended with Elizabeth, much was\ndone for Greenwich by the Stuarts. James I. replaced the wooden fence\nof the Park by a brick wall, 12 feet high and 2 miles round. At various\ntimes sections have been altered or replaced by iron rails, but the\ngreater part of the wall remains as completed between 1619–25.\n\nThe “Queen’s House,” which is the only portion of the older building\nwhich still exists, was begun under James I., and completed b"} -{"id": 196, "text": "y Inigo\nJones for Queen Henrietta Maria. It was called the House of Delight or\nthe Queen’s House, and still bears the latter title. Although the sale\ndoes not appear to have been actually completed, Greenwich is among the\nRoyal Parks the Parliament intended to sell. The deer at the time must\nhave been numerous and in good condition, for during the Commonwealth\nthe fear of their being stolen was such, that soldiers were posted\nin the tower for their preservation. Not any great change, however,\ntook place; the Park remained as it was until completely remodelled by\nCharles II.\n\nLe Nôtre’s name is associated with the changes at Greenwich, as it is\nwith those in St. James’s Park, and the style was undoubtedly his;\nbut it is not at all likely that he ever actually came to England,\nbut sent some representative who helped to carry out his ideas. The\nalterations were under the superintendence of Sir William Boreman,\nwho became Keeper of the Park about that date. In March 1644 John\nEvelyn made a"} -{"id": 197, "text": " note in his Diary about planting some trees at his house\nof Sayes Court, Deptford, and adds, “being the same year that the\nelms were planted by His Majesty in Greenwich Park.” The avenues and\nall the fine sweet chestnuts were planted about this time, besides\ncoppices and orchards. John Evelyn must have approved of these\navenues, as in his “Sylva” he praises the chestnut for “Avenues to our\nCountry-houses; they are a magnificent and royal Ornament.” Their nuts\nwere not appreciated in England. “We give that food to our swine,”\nEvelyn continues, “which is amongst the delicacies of Princes in other\nCountries; ... doubtless we might propagate their use amongst our\ncommon people ... being a Food so cheap and so lasting.”\n\nA series of terraces sloping down from the tower formed part of the\ndesign, and their outline can still be traced between the Observatory\nand the Queen’s House, which faces the hill at the foot. Each terrace\nwas 40 yards wide, and on either side Scotch firs were planted 24"} -{"id": 198, "text": "\nfeet apart. These trees were brought by General Monk from Scotland in\n1664, and until forty years ago many were standing, and the line of\nthe avenue was still traceable; some of the trunks measured 4 feet in\ndiameter at the ground. Smoke tells so much more on all the coniferous\ntribes than on the deciduous trees, that they have all now perished.\nThe last dead stump had to be felled some ten years ago. The old Palace\nwas much gone to decay when Charles II. began the alterations, so he\npulled it down with the exception of the Queen’s House, the only part\nsaid to be in good repair, and commenced a vast building designed by\nWren, one wing of which only was completed in his reign.\n\nPepys, who always did the right and fashionable thing, of course\noften went to Greenwich, and mentions many pleasant days there. On\none occasion (June 16, 1662) he went “in the afternoon with all the\nchildren by water to Greenwich, where I showed them the King’s yacht,\nthe house, and the parke, all very pleasant"} -{"id": 199, "text": "; and to the taverne,\nand had the musique of the house, and so merrily home again.” This\nexcursion having been so successful, he soon after escorted Lady\nCarteret with great pride, “she being very fine, and her page carrying\nup her train, she staying a little at my house, and then walked\nthrough the garden, and took water, and went first on board the King’s\npleasure-boat, which pleased her much. Then to Greenwiche Parke; and\nwith much ado she was able to walk up to the top of the hill, and so\ndown again, and took boat....” His wife and servants, unencumbered\nby the fine clothes and the page, had evidently not minded the steep\nascent as did this “fine” lady, who, however, was “much pleased with\nthe ramble in every particular of it.”\n\nGreenwich Fair was always a great institution, and as a rule it was a\nriotous and disorderly gathering. Two took place each year, in May and\nOctober, and lasted several days. During the seventeenth and following\ncenturies the fairs were notorious, and final"} -{"id": 200, "text": "ly had to be suppressed in\nthe middle of the nineteenth.\n\nWhen William III. altered the building of Charles II. from a palace\nto a hospital for seamen in 1694 the Park was kept separate, and the\nRanger lived in the “Queen’s House.” It was not until Princess Sophia\nheld the office in 1816 that the residence was changed to the house\nwhich still goes by the name of the Ranger’s Lodge, and was lived in\nby the last Ranger, Lord Wolseley. This Ranger’s House had formerly\nbelonged to Lord Chesterfield, and many of the famous letters to his\ngodson are dated from there. No special feature in the garden, which\nwas thrown open to the public with the Park in 1898, can be attributed\nto him. He was not, as Lord Carnarvon’s memoir of him points out, fond\nof the country; though he “took some interest in growing fruit in his\ngarden at Blackheath, he had no love for his garden like Bacon” or Sir\nWilliam Temple. There are some fine trees in the grounds, especially\na copper beech, with a spread 57 feet in"} -{"id": 201, "text": " diameter, and a good tulip\ntree. Queen Caroline, as Princess of Wales, was Ranger in 1806, and\nlived in Montague House, since pulled down, and the “Queen’s House” was\nappropriated to the Royal Naval School. At the same time the “Ranger’s”\nwas inhabited by the Duchess of Brunswick, her mother, and it was on\nher death that it was purchased by the Crown, and Princess Sophia,\ndaughter of the Duke of Gloucester, came to live there as Ranger. The\nlast royal personage to stay in the house was the Duke of Connaught,\nwhen studying at Woolwich; and now it serves as refreshment rooms for\nthe numberless trippers who enjoy Greenwich Park in the summer.\n\nThe most recent changes in the Park have all been improvements, and\nnow it is beautifully kept. There is much that is still wild, and the\nflora and fauna of the Park would astonish many. Among the wild flowers\nbutcher’s broom, spindle, and the parasites on the heather and the\nbroom, dodder and broom-rape are to be found, and hart’s-tongue, wall\nrue"} -{"id": 202, "text": ", polypody and male and lady ferns. The list of birds that breed\nthere still is a long one:--\n\n Barndoor owl.\n Spotted fly-catcher.\n Missel and the song thrush.\n Blackbird.\n Hedge sparrow.\n Robin.\n Sedge and reed warblers.\n Black-cap.\n White-throat.\n The great, blue, and cole tits.\n Pied wagtail.\n Common bunting.\n House sparrow.\n Greenfinch.\n Linnet.\n Bullfinch.\n Starling.\n Carrion crow.\n Jackdaw.\n Green woodpecker.\n Tree creeper.\n Wren.\n Nuthatch.\n Swallow.\n Ring, turtle, and stock doves.\n Pigeon.\n Moorhen.\n Lesser grebe.\n\nThe part of the Park fenced off and known as the Wilderness is quiet\nand undisturbed; there under the big trees, among long grass and\nbracken, the young fawns are reared every year. They are most confiding\nand tame--those in the Park too much so; for they are only too ready to\neat what is given them, and tragic deaths from a surfeit of orange-peel\nor such-like delights are the result.\n\nThe lake is prettily planted, and red marliac varieti"} -{"id": 203, "text": "es of water-lilies\nnow float on the surface in the summer. The dell, planted with a\nlarge collection of flowering shrubs, is well arranged, and many\nchoice varieties, _Solanum crispum_, gum cistus, magnolias, _Buddlea\nintermedia_, _Indigofera gerardiana floribunda_, and such-like are\ndoing well. The frame-ground is most unostentatious, and it is\nsatisfactory to see how much can be produced. The climate allows of the\nspring bedding plants and hardy chrysanthemums for autumn being raised\nout of doors; and the small amount of glass shelters the standard\nheliotropes, _Streptosolens Jamesoni_, and the like for bedding. Lilies\ndo well in the open; _superbum_, tiger, _thunbergium_, _Henryii_,\n&c., and pots of _longifolium_ flower strongly after doing duty for\nthree years. There is now a fair-sized garden, where these plants are\ndisplayed, near the Wilderness, adjoining Blackheath; while the rest\nof the Park, with the deer wandering under the chestnuts, is still\nleft delightfully wild. Under t"} -{"id": 204, "text": "he shady trees on a summer’s day it\nwould still be possible to dream of Romans and Danes, of pageants and\ntournaments, and to people the scene with the heroes and heroines of\nyore.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nMUNICIPAL PARKS\n\n _Let cities, kirks, and everie noble towne\n Be purified, and decked up and downe._\n\n --ALEXANDER HUME (1557–1609).\n\n\nLondon is almost completely surrounded by a chain of parks. Luckily,\nas the town grew, the necessity for fresh air began to be realised,\nand before it was too late, in the thickly-populated districts north,\nsouth, east, and west, any available open space has been converted\ninto a public garden, or into a more ambitious park. Would that this\nlaudable spirit had moved people sooner, and then there might have been\na Finsbury Park nearer Finsbury, and the circle of green patches on the\nmap might have been more evenly dotted about some of the intervening\nparishes. Many of the open spaces are heaths, or commons, or Lammas\nLands, whic"} -{"id": 205, "text": "h have various rights attached to them, and, in consequence,\nhave been saved from the encroachments which have threatened them from\ntime to time, and have thus been preserved, in spite of the growth\nof the surrounding districts. Of late years the rights have in many\ninstances been acquired by public bodies, so as to keep for ever these\npriceless boons. It was not until the middle of last century that the\nmovement in favour of city parks assumed definite form. They were in\ncontemplation before 1840, but none were completed until several years\nlater. Victoria was the first, opened in 1845; Battersea, although\nbegun then, was not ready for planting till 1857; Kennington, Finsbury,\nand Southwark had followed before 1870, and, since then, every few\nyears new open spaces have been added. They have been purchased by\npublic bodies for the most part, but a large share of the honour of\nacquiring these grounds is due to private munificence and individual\nenterprise.\n\nIrrespective of the commons w"} -{"id": 206, "text": "hich link them together, the principal\nparks are the following. Beginning on the extreme north there is\nGolder’s Hill, then to the east of Hampstead lies Waterlow, the next\ngoing eastwards is Finsbury, then Clissold and Springfield, and down\ntowards the east Victoria. In South London, between Woolwich and\nGreenwich, lies Maryon Park; then, west of Greenwich, Deptford and\nSouthwark; then a densely built-over district before Kennington,\nVauxhall, and Battersea are reached; while away to the south lie\nCamberwell, Ruskin, Brockwell, and Dulwich; right away into the\ncountry, on the south-east, Avery Hill and Eltham; and back again\nwest, across the river again, in Hammersmith, is Ravenscourt. These\nparks of varying sizes, and smaller recreation grounds between, make\nup the actual parks, although some of the commons, with playgrounds,\nartificial water, and band-stands, can hardly be distinguished from the\ntrue park.\n\nThe oldest of the parks now under the London County Council--Battersea,\nKenn"} -{"id": 207, "text": "ington, and Victoria--were for many years under the Office of\nWorks, and on the same footing as the Royal Parks. Government, and no\nmunicipal authority, has the credit of their formation. Then came\nseveral formed by or transferred to the Metropolitan Board of Works.\nTo all these, already over 2050 acres, the London County Council\nautomatically succeeded. After the Bill reorganising the disposal of\nthe funds of the London Parochial Charities in 1883, a part of their\nmoney was allotted to provide open spaces, and they helped to purchase\nmany of the parks--Clissold, Vauxhall, Ravenscourt, Brockwell, and so\non. The acquisition of parks has, in many cases, been due to private\nindividuals, who helped to raise the necessary funds, and themselves\ncontributed, and were generally assisted by the local vestries,\nand, later on, Borough Councils. Miss Octavia Hill, by writing and\ntrying to influence public opinion, made many efforts to secure open\nspaces. At her instance the Kyrle Society was found"} -{"id": 208, "text": "ed for the general\nimprovement of homes, of disused burial-grounds, and open spaces; and\nfrom this developed the Metropolitan Gardens Association, of which\nthe Earl of Meath is Chairman. Immense credit is due to this Society,\nboth for acquiring new sites and beautifying existing ones, and being\ninstrumental in having countless places opened to the public. And to\nprivate individuals who have given whole parks, or largely contributed\nto others, too much gratitude cannot be expressed. Since they came into\noffice, the London County Council has had added some 2300 acres of open\nspaces and parks to those under its care, which have been purchased,\nor given in whole or in part, by private individuals or other public\nbodies. Some of the last acquisitions of the London County Council lie\nquite outside the county boundary, so are beyond the limit set to this\nvolume. Marble Hill is away at Twickenham, but half the purchase-money\nof £72,000 was paid by the London County Council, and the entire cost"} -{"id": 209, "text": "\nof alteration and maintenance is found by it. The place was bought\nchiefly to preserve the wooded aspect of the view from Richmond Hill.\nThe Forest of Hainault is also outside the bounds, near Epping. The\n805 acres there are partly fields, and in part the remains of the old\nForest of “Hyneholt,” as it was often written, a section of the Royal\nForest which covered a large tract of Essex.\n\nThe most natural division, when dealing with these open spaces, is\nthe river, and it is a division which strikes a fairly even balance.\nIncluding Royal Parks, which contain some 1266 acres, the northern side\ncan claim the larger area, as, irrespective of squares and churchyards\nand gardens, there are about 3141 acres of green. The south side has\nonly Greenwich Park of 185 acres of Royal Park, and, exclusive of that,\nthere are quite 2169 acres, as against 1875 of the municipal areas on\nthe northern side, when the Crown land is deducted. Besides these,\nthere are 226 acres maintained by the Borough Counc"} -{"id": 210, "text": "ils; so in round\nnumbers London has about 5721 acres of open space. These figures are\nonly rough estimates, and do not include all the smaller recreation\ngrounds or gardens of less than an acre.\n\nThese parks scattered around London are enjoyed by hundreds of\nthousands annually, and yet, to a comparative handful of people who\nlive near Hyde Park, they are as much unexplored country as the regions\nof Timbuctoo. The bicycling craze of ten years ago suddenly brought\nBattersea Park into fashion; but the miles of crowded streets, with\ntheir rushing trams and top-heavy omnibuses, put a considerable bar\nbetween the “West End” and those more distant favoured spots. There\nis much variety in these parks, both north and south, and the chief\ndifference lies in their origin. When a suburban manor-house, standing\nin its own grounds, with well-timbered park and a garden of some\ndesign, has been acquired, a much finer effect is produced than when\nfields or market-gardens have been bought up and made in"} -{"id": 211, "text": "to a park.\n\nFinsbury Park, for instance, was merely fields, while Waterlow has\nalways been part of a private demesne. It is the same on the south of\nthe river. Brockwell is an old park and garden. Battersea was entirely\nmade. Each park has features which give it an individual character,\nwhile there is and must be a certain repetition in describing every one\nseparately.\n\nMany details are of necessity more or less the same in each. The London\nCounty Council is responsible for the greater number, and in every\ncase they have thought certain things essential. For instance, the\nband-stand; no park, large or small, is considered complete without\none. It is hardly necessary to mention each individually, though some\nare of the ordinary patterns, others more “rustic” in construction (as\nin Brockwell Park), with branching oak supports and thatched or tiled\nroofs. Every park, except Waterlow, which is too hilly, furnishes ample\narea for games. Cricket pitches by the dozen, and space for numerous\ng"} -{"id": 212, "text": "oal-posts is provided for, in each and all of the larger parks.\nGymnasiums, too, are included in the requirements of a fully-equipped\npark. Swings for the smaller children, bars, ropes, and higher swings\nfor older boys and girls, are supplied. Bathing pools of greater\nor less dimensions are often added, the one in Victoria Park being\nespecially large and crowded. Then the larger parks have green-houses,\nand a succession of plants are on view all the year round. The\nchrysanthemum time is one specially looked forward to in the East End\ndistricts. Iron railings and paths, of course, are the inevitable\nbeginnings in the creation of a park, and more or less ambitious gates.\nIt is only in the larger ones, such as Finsbury, Victoria, Dulwich,\nand Battersea, that carriages are anticipated. Though there is a drive\nthrough Brockwell, and the steep hill in Waterlow might be climbed, and\nthe avenue in Ravenscourt is wide enough, it is evidently only foot\npassengers who are expected, as a rule. Fan"} -{"id": 213, "text": "cy ducks and geese attract\nthe small children on all the ponds, and some parks have enclosures for\ndeer or other animals. Sand gardens, or “seasides” for children to dig\nin, are also frequently included.\n\nThe larger parks are self-contained--that is to say, the bedding out\nand all the plants necessary for the flower-gardens are reared on the\npremises. There is a frame-ground with green-houses attached, where the\nstock is kept and propagated. Of course, much depends on the soil and\nlocality. In some parks the things will stand the winter much better\nthan in others, where fog and smoke and damp work deadly havoc.\n\nA great deal is now done with simple, hardy flowers, which give just as\ngood an effect as more elaborate and expensive bedding. Roses in the\nshow beds will do well for two or even three years; with a few annuals\nbetween they make charming effects. In Finsbury Park, the dark red\nroses with Canterbury bells, and fuchsias with a ground of alyssum,\nwere effective and simple. In som"} -{"id": 214, "text": "e parks the spring plants will thrive\nall through the winter. Beds of white Arabis with pink tulips between;\nforget-me-nots with white tulips; mixed collections of auriculas, that\ndear old-fashioned “bear’s ears,” put in about the end of October, make\na little show all the winter, and produce a mass of colour in spring.\nThere is still room for improvement in the direction of the planting,\nbut of late years the war waged against the monopoly of calceolarias,\ngeraniums, and blue lobelias has, fortunately, had its effect in a\nmarked degree on the London Parks, municipal as well as royal.\n\nThere is apt to be a great uniformity in the selection of plants,\nmore especially among the trees and bushes. The future should always\nbe borne in mind in planting, and alas! that is not always the case.\nAnything that will grow quickly is often put in, whereas a little\npatience and a much finer effect would be the result in the end.\nPrivet grows faster than holly, but can the two results be compared?\nThe"} -{"id": 215, "text": "re is a very fine old elm avenue in Ravenscourt; trees which the\nplanter never saw in perfection, but which many generations have since\nenjoyed. But will the avenue of poplars in Finsbury Park have such a\nfuture? After thirty-five years’ growth they are considerable trees,\nbut how long will they last? The plane does grow remarkably well, there\nis no denying, but is it necessary for that reason to exclude almost\nevery other tree? Ash trees thrive surprisingly. Some of the oaks take\nkindly to London, yet how few are planted. Richard Jefferies, that most\ndelightful of writers on nature, bemoans the lack of English trees\nin the suburban gardens of London, and the same may be said of the\nparks to some extent. “Go round the entire circumference of Greater\nLondon,” he writes, “and find the list ceaselessly repeated. There are\nacacias, sumachs, cedar deodaras, araucarias, laurels, planes, beds\nof rhododendrons, and so on.” “If, again, search were made in these\nenclosures for English trees and "} -{"id": 216, "text": "English shrubs, it would be found that\nnone have been introduced.”\n\nIt would be even more charming in a London Park than a suburban garden\nto plant some of the delights of our English country, such as thorns,\ncrab apples, elder, and wild roses, with horse-chestnuts, and hazel.\nWhat can be more beautiful than birches at all times of the year? That\nthey grow readily, their well-washed white stems in Hyde Park testify.\nBirds, too, love the native trees, and some of the songsters, which\ntill lately were plentiful in many parks, might return to build if thus\nencouraged.\n\nThere is much monotony in the laying out of all these parks. The\nundulating green turf with a wavy line of bushes seems the only\nrecognised form. A narrow strip of herbaceous plants is put between the\nsmutty bushes and well-mown turf, and the official park flower-border\nis produced. Curving lines of uncertain direction, tortuous paths\nthat carefully avoid the straight line, are all part of the generally\nreceived idea of a c"} -{"id": 217, "text": "orrect outline. It is always more easy to criticise\nthan to suggest, but surely more variety would be achieved if parks\nwere planted really like wild gardens--the groups of plants more\nas they might occur in a natural glade or woodland. Then let the\nherbaceous border be a thing apart--a garden, straight and formal,\nor curved and round, but not always in bays and promontories jutting\ninto seas of undulating green. A straight line occasionally is a\ngreat rest to the eye, but it should begin and end at a definite and\ntangible point. The small Park in Camberwell has a little avenue of\nlimes running straight across, with a centre where seats can be put\nand paths diverge at right angles. It is quite small, and yet the Park\nwould be exactly like every other piece of ground, with no particular\ndesign, without this. It gives a point and centre to the meandering\npaths, and comes as a distinct relief. In Southwark Park an avenue is\ngrowing up into fairly large trees. It seems stuck on to the Park"} -{"id": 218, "text": "--it\nis not straight, but it is not a definite curve, and it ends somehow by\nturning towards the entrance at one end and twisting in the direction\nof the pond at the other. So it remains a shady walk, but not an avenue\nwith any pretension to forming part of a design.\n\nIt is not for the formal only this appeal is made, it is for less\nformality and more real wildness, also a protest against the monotony\nof the green banks, and bunches of bushes, and meaningless curves, too\noften the only form of design. The aim in every case must be to have as\nmuch variety as possible without incongruity, and to make the utmost\nuse of the ground; to give the most pleasure at the least expense.\n\nOne of the great difficulties must always be the numbers of people who\nenjoy these parks. The grass suffers to such an extent that portions\nmust be periodically enclosed to recover. Then the children have to\nbe kept at a certain distance from the flowers, or the temptation to\ngather one over-masters the fear of th"} -{"id": 219, "text": "e park-keeper.\n\nA green walk between trees would be a pleasing change from gravel and\nasphalt in a less-frequented part of some park, but it would doubtless\nhave to be closed in sections, or there would soon be no turf left;\nbut such an experiment might well be tried. The attempts in Brockwell,\nGolder’s Hill, and Ravenscourt at “old English gardens” are most\nsuccessful, and a welcome change in the monotony, and one has only to\nlook at the crowded seats to see how much they are appreciated.\n\nThe effort to make use of the parks to supplement nature-teaching in\nthe schools is also an advance in the right direction, and one that\ncould be followed up with advantage.\n\nThe trials of the climate of London, and the hurtful fogs, must not\nbe forgotten when criticising. They are no new thing, and gardeners\nfor two hundred years have had to contend with the smoke, and wage\nwar against its effects. But the evil has, of course, become greatly\nintensified during the last fifty years. Fairchild, the a"} -{"id": 220, "text": "uthor of the\n“City Gardener,” in 1722, regrets that plants will not prosper because\nof the “Sea Coal.” Mirabeau, writing from London in 1784, deplores\nthe fogs in England, and especially “those of London. The prodigious\nquantity of coal that is consumed, adds to their consistence, prolongs\ntheir duration, and eminently contributes to render these vapours more\nblack, and more suffocating--you feel this when rising in the morning.\nTo breathe the fresh morning air is a sort of happiness you cannot\nenjoy in this immense Capital.” Yet in spite of this gloomy picture\nthere are trees now within the London area, which were getting black\nwhen Mirabeau wrote. Smuts are by no means solely responsible for trees\ndying. There are many other contributory causes. The drainage and want\nof water is often a serious danger, and bad pruning in the case of the\nyounger trees is another. When branches begin to die, it is a very\nsafe and salutary precaution to lop them off, as has lately been done\nto such a no"} -{"id": 221, "text": "ticeable extent in Kensington Gardens. But the cutting and\npruning of trees by those employed by various municipal bodies is often\nlamentably performed. The branches are not cut off clean, or to a\njoint, where fresh twigs will soon sprout and fill in and make good the\ngaps. Often they are cut leaving a piece of wood, which decays back to\nthe young growth, and rots into the sound part of the tree.\n\nSome of the worst enemies of the gardener are the electric\npower-stations. The trees suffer terribly from the smoke they emit.\nEven healthy young shrubs and bushes, such as laurels, are destroyed\nby it. In a very short time they become completely dried up, brown,\nand shrivelled. In a memorandum on the Electric Power and Supply Bill\nof 1906, the First Commissioner of Works pointed out these disastrous\neffects. He says, “The case is not entirely one of the emission or\nconsumption of black or sooty or tarry matters. The other products of\ncombustion, such as sulphurous and sulphuric acid, with so"} -{"id": 222, "text": "lid particles\nof mineral matter or ash, are very deleterious to vegetation.” It\nappears from the report of Dr. Thorpe, of the Government Laboratory,\nthat the production of sulphuric acid could be “much diminished, if not\nentirely prevented, by pouring lime-water on the coal before it goes\ninto the furnaces, but from the look of trees in some neighbourhoods\nthis precaution does not appear to be taken.” These hindrances are\noften very disheartening, and the many and serious difficulties that\nhave to be contended with, must never be lost sight of in any review of\nthe parks.\n\nIn every case the park is thoroughly appreciated by the inhabitants,\nand no one can overestimate the health-giving properties of these\nlungs of the city. It would be vain repetition to point out the fact\nin each case, or to picture the crowds who enjoy them on Sundays--who\nwalk about, or lounge, or listen to the bands, or to what appears\nstill more stimulating, to the impassioned harangue of some would-be\nreformer or "} -{"id": 223, "text": "earnest preacher. The densely-packed audiences, the\ngesticulations and heated and declamatory arguments, are not confined\nto Hyde Park. Victoria Park gathers just such assemblies, and every\npark could make more or less the same boast. The seats are equally full\nin each and all, and the grass as thickly strewn with prostrate forms.\nPerambulators are as numerous and children as conspicuous in the north,\nsouth, and eastern parks as in those of the west.\n\nIn looking round the parks it will be well to take a glance at the\nsmaller ones, then to consider each of the larger ones more in detail,\nin every case missing out some of the obvious appendages which are\ncharacteristic of all.\n\nHow pathetic some of these little parks are, and what a part they play\nin the lives of those who live in the dingy streets near. Take, for\ninstance, one with a high-sounding name, Avondale Park. It is little\nmore than ten minutes’ walk from Shepherd’s Bush Station or Notting\nHill Gate. Yet, on inquiry for the most"} -{"id": 224, "text": " direct road, nobody can give\na satisfactory answer. One man will say, “I have lived here for years\nand never heard of it”; another, “I don’t think it can be in this\ndistrict.” The same would be the result even nearer to it; but ask\nfor the recreation ground, and any child will tell you. “Down the\nfirst narrow turning and to the right again, by the pawnbroker at the\ncorner.” It is a melancholy shop, with the plain necessaries of life\nand tiny babies’ boots for sale on the trays outside the door--what\na volume of wretchedness and poverty those poor things bespeak. A\nfew yards further, and the iron railings of the “Park” come in view.\nThe happy shrill voices of children resound, the swings are in full\nmotion, the seats well filled, and up and down the asphalt walk, old\nand young are enjoying themselves. When the band plays the place is\npacked. “I’ve calculated as many as nine hundred at one time,” says\nthe old guardian, who is proud of the place, “and as for the children,\nyou often can’t"} -{"id": 225, "text": " see the ground for them.” Yes, this open space of four\nand a quarter acres is really appreciated. It is difficult for those\nin easier circumstances to realise what a difference that little patch\nof green, those few bright flowers, make to the neighbourhood, or the\nsocial effect of the summer evenings, when the band and the pleasant\ntrees offer a counter-attraction to the public-house. For some twelve\nyears this little Park has been enjoyed. Formed by the vestry, and kept\nup by the Royal Borough of Kensington, it greatly pleases, although\nit scarce can be called beautiful. The centre is given over to the\nchildren, and the boys have ample room, and the girls and infants keep\ntheir twenty-four swings in constant motion. A path twists round the\nirregular plot, and most of the way is bordered by those London-loving\nplants, the iris, and the usual groups of smutty bushes. Along the\nfront runs a wide asphalt walk, well furnished with seats, a band-stand\nhalf way, and a fountain at one end. S"} -{"id": 226, "text": "ome bedding out with gay flowers\nis the attraction here. A gardener and a boy keep it in order,\nwhile for about £20 a year a nurseryman supplies all the necessary\nbedding-out plants. The old guardian sweeps the scraps of paper up and\nsees the children are not too riotous at the swings. Thus, for no great\nexpense, widespread pleasure is conferred.\n\nThe Embankment Gardens, between Westminster and Blackfriars, are much\nfrequented. At all seasons of the year the seats are crowded, and now,\nwith the statues, bands playing in summer, refreshment buffet, and\nnewspaper kiosk, they look more like a foreign garden than the usual\nsolemn squares of London. During the dinner-hour they are filled with\nthe printers from the many newspaper offices near, and the band was in\nthe first instance paid for by the Press.\n\nThey are divided into three sections, and measure ten acres in all,\nnot including the garden beyond the Victoria Tower. The peace has been\nutterly destroyed by the din of trams, which are f"} -{"id": 227, "text": "or ever passing and\nre-passing, and it is much to be feared that the trees next the river,\nwhich were growing so well, will not withstand the ill-treatment they\nhave received--the cutting of roots and depriving them of moisture.\nThe Gardens are entirely on the ground made up when the Embankment was\nformed, between 1864 and 1870.\n\nThe Gardens were opened in 1870, but many improvements have since been\nmade in the design, and various statues put up to famous men. One\nis to John Stuart Mill, and at the Westminster end, one of William\nTyndall, the translator of the New Testament and Pentateuch, to which\ntranslation is due much of the beautiful language of the Authorised\nVersion of the Bible.\n\nOf the old gardens and entrances to the great houses which stretched\nthe whole length of the river bank, from Westminster and Whitehall to\nthe City, only one trace remains. It is the Water Gate of York House.\nThe low level on which it stands, below the terrace end of Buckingham\nStreet, shows to what po"} -{"id": 228, "text": "int the river rose. York House was so called\nas it was the town house of the Archbishops of York, but none of them\never lived there except Heath, in Queen Mary’s time, who was the first\nto possess it. It was let, as a rule, to the Keepers of the Great Seal,\nand Bacon lived there. George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, pulled\ndown most of the old house, and commenced rebuilding. Nothing now\nremains but the Water Gate, supposed to be by Inigo Jones, although the\ndesign is also attributed to Nicholas Stone, who built it. The house\nand gardens were sold and divided in 1672. Buckingham Street and the\nstreets adjoining are built on the site, and all that is left is the\nfine old gateway, with most modern-looking gardens between it and the\nriver, which once flowed up to its arches.\n\nAnother Embankment recreation ground is the Island Garden, Poplar, and\nit is one that is also much appreciated. It was made on some ground\nnot required for ship-building or docks on the river front of the Isle\nof Dog"} -{"id": 229, "text": "s, and opened to the public in 1895. The idea of making a garden\nof it had for some few years been in contemplation, and as soon as the\nnecessary funds were found, this space, somewhat less than three acres,\nwas saved from being built over, and a wide walk of about 700 feet made\nalong the river embankment. The view from the seats, with which it is\nplentifully supplied, over towards Greenwich Hospital and Park makes\nit a really charming promenade. The quaint name of this part of London\nis said to be derived from the fact that the kennels of the sporting\ndogs of the royal residents of Greenwich Palace were kept there, “which\nusually making a great noise, the seamen and others thereupon called\nthe place the Isle of Dogs.” This seems the most plausible of the\nvarious definitions of the name of this peninsula--for it is only an\nisland by means of the dock canal, made in 1800. A quotation from a\nplay of Middleton and Dekker, in 1611, shows that then, at any rate, it\nwas associated with actua"} -{"id": 230, "text": "l dogs.\n\n“_Moll Cutpurse_: O Sir, he hath been brought up in the Isle of Dogs,\nand can both fawn like a spaniel and bite like a mastiff, as he finds\noccasion.”\n\nThe ground in those days and until much later times was a fertile\nmarsh, subject to frequent inundations, but affording very rich\npasture. Breaches in the embankment occurred at intervals until a solid\npile and brick wall was made in the last century, above which the\n“Island Gardens” were laid.\n\nFurther along the north bank of the river there is another and a larger\ngarden, kept up by the London County Council, although it is in East\nHam and not within the County of London. This was made on the site of\nthe North Woolwich Tea Gardens, which enjoyed a kind of popularity\nfor some fifty years. Having been started in 1851, they kept up their\nreputation for “Baby Shows,” “Beard Shows,” and such-like attractions,\nuntil the ground became too valuable for building, and too heavily\nrated for them to exist, and, but for timely interferenc"} -{"id": 231, "text": "e, this open\nspace would have been converted into wharves.\n\nThe story of the Bethnal Green Gardens is very different. Although\nit was only in 1891 that the present arrangements with regard to\nkeeping up the Gardens were established, the 15½ acres of which\nthey form part has a long history. As far back as 1667 the land was\npurchased by a group of residents, who collectively subscribed £200,\nand by a trust-deed dated 1690 conveyed the land to trustees, to be\nadministered for the benefit of the poor. It had been purchased and\nenclosed, the deed specified, “for the prevention of any new building\nthereon.” Of this ground 9 acres form the present Garden; on part of\nthe remainder St. John’s Church was built, and in 1872 the Bethnal\nGreen Museum, an offshoot from South Kensington, was opened on another\nsection. The most exhaustive work on Municipal Parks says that when\nthe land “came into the possession of the London County Council” it\n“consisted of orchard, paddock, kitchen garden, and pleasu"} -{"id": 232, "text": "re grounds,\nall in a rough and neglected condition.” Under the levelling hand of\nthe London County Council it has been made to look exactly like every\nother public garden, with “ornamental wrought-iron enclosing fences,\nbroad walks, shrubberies,” and so on, at a cost of over £5000, and was\nopened in 1895. There is no trace of its former condition, nothing to\npoint to its antiquity or any difference in its appearance from the\nmost modern acquisition. Perhaps after all it is as well, for among\nthe thousands of that poor and crowded district that use and enjoy it,\nthere is not one to whom a passing thought of the old weavers who were\nsettled there when the land was given, or to whom the legend of pretty\nBessee the Blind Beggar’s daughter of Bethnal Green would occur. Though\nthe design is prosaic, the gardens are made cheerful and gay, and if\nthey add a gleam of brightness to the lives of toil of those living\nnear them, they must be said to fulfil their purpose.\n\n\nVICTORIA PARK\n\nVictoria P"} -{"id": 233, "text": "ark was the first of the modern Parks to be laid out, and it\nis the largest. When the advantage of an East End Park was admitted,\nthe work of forming one was carried out by the Commissioners of Woods\nand Forests. An Act passed in 1840 enabled them to sell York House to\nthe Duke of Sutherland (hence it became Stafford House), for £72,000,\nand to purchase about 290 acres of land in the East End in the parishes\nof Hackney, Bethnal Green, and Bow. Part of this was reserved for\nbuilding improved dwellings, and 193 acres formed Victoria Park, the\nlaying out of which began in 1842. Thirty years later, when some of\nthe land adjoining was about to be built on, the Metropolitan Board\nof Works bought some 24 acres to add to the Park, the whole of which,\nincluding the new part, was under the Office of Works. Other additions\nhave been made from time to time, chiefly with a view to opening\nentrances to the Park, so as to make it as easy of access as possible\nfrom the crowded districts in the directi"} -{"id": 234, "text": "on of Limehouse and the docks,\nand round Mile End Road.\n\nThe ground which the Park covers was chiefly brick-fields and\nmarket-gardens, and Bishop’s Hall Farm. The latter place is the only\npart with any historical association. The farm was in the manor of\nStepney, which was held by the Bishops of London, and Bishop’s or\nBonner’s Hall was the Manor House. Many of the Bishops of London\nresided here in early days. Stowe, in 1598, referring to Bishop Richard\nde Gravesend in 1280, writes: “It appeareth by the Charter [of free]\nwarren granted to this Bishop, that (in his time) there were two\nWoods in the Parish of Stebunheth [Stepney], pertaining to the said\nBishop: I have (since I kept house for my selfe) knowne the one of\nthem by _Bishops Hall_, but now they are both made plaine of wood,\nand not to be discerned from other grounds.” These woods were on the\nground covered by the Park. Stowe notices in his short accounts of the\nBishops of London that Ralph Stratford, who was Bishop from 1339 t"} -{"id": 235, "text": "o\n1354, “deceased at Stebunhith.” The name Bonner’s Hall somehow became\nattached to the Manor House. The same chronicler also records that\nBishop Ridley gave the manors of Stepney and Hackney to the King in the\nfourth year of Edward VI., who granted them to Lord Wentworth. Bonner,\ntherefore, would be the last Bishop who could have resided there. The\nold Manor House was not destroyed till 1800, when part of the material\nwas taken to build a farm-house, which was cleared away when the Park\nwas formed.\n\nThe first laying out of the Park does not seem to have been altogether\nsatisfactory. A writer in 1851 criticises it very severely. The\nroads and paths, he says, were so badly laid as to require almost\nreconstruction. The “banks of the lake must be reduced to something\nlike shape to resist the wash of the water,” and the remodelling of\nthe plantations will be “a work of time.” Just then Mr. Gibson assumed\nthe charge of the Park, and even this captious critic seems to have\nbeen well satisfie"} -{"id": 236, "text": "d that he had “begun in real earnest” to carry out\nthe necessary improvements. Modern gardeners might not applaud all his\nplanting quite so enthusiastically as his contemporaries. For instance,\nthe rage for araucarias--monkey puzzles--has somewhat subsided, though\nthe planting of a number met with great praise in the Fifties. Most\nof the Park was planted with discrimination. In a line with the canal\nwhich forms one boundary, an avenue was put, now a charming shady\nroad with well-grown trees. The artificial water with fancy ducks, in\nwhich is a wooded island with a Chinese pagoda, is a great delight for\nboating. The bathing-lake has still greater attraction, and thousands\nbathe there daily all through the summer months. It is said, as many\nas 25,000 have been counted on a summer’s morning. Bedding out was\nat its height when Victoria Park was laid out, so the flower-garden\nincluded some elaborate scroll designs which were suited to the style\nof carpet-bedding then in vogue. Now, though l"} -{"id": 237, "text": "ess stiff, the formal\nbedding is well done, and attracts great attention. Those in the East\nEnd have just as keen an appreciation as the frequenters of Hyde Park,\nof the display of flowers. The green-house in winter is much enjoyed,\nand a succession of bright flowers is kept there during the dark months\nof the year. The children’s sand garden is also a delight.\n\n[Illustration: PAGODA ON THE ISLAND, VICTORIA PARK.]\n\nIn spite of its situation in a densely-populated district, the\nfeathered tribes have not quite deserted the Park. The moor-hen builds\nby the lake and the ringdove nests in the trees. Though the greenfinch\nand the wren have vanished, some songsters still gladden the world.\nBlackbirds, thrushes, and chaffinches are by no means uncommon. Some\nof these latter get caught, and take part in the popular amusement of\nsinging-matches. Many men in the district keep chaffinches in cages,\nand bring them to the Park on a Sunday morning that they may practise\ntheir notes in chorus with the"} -{"id": 238, "text": "ir wild associates, and so beat the caged\nbird of some rival. Sometimes the temptation is too great, and the wild\nbirds are kidnapped to join the competition.\n\n\nFINSBURY PARK\n\nFinsbury is second in size, and second in date of construction, of\nthe Parks of North London. It is far from Finsbury, being really in\nHornsey, but as the idea, first expressed about 1850, was to make a\nPark for the borough of Finsbury, the name was retained although the\nland acquired some years later was somewhat remote.\n\nThe movement was first set on foot when building began to destroy\nall the open spaces near Finsbury Fields. Some of these, like Spa\nFields, had been popular places of resort as Tea Gardens, but were\nbeing rapidly covered with houses, and separating Finsbury altogether\nfrom the country. Many delays, owing to changes of Government,\noccurred before the necessary legislation was accomplished. When the\nMetropolitan Board of Works came into being, it took up the scheme, and\nit was finally under its a"} -{"id": 239, "text": "uspices that the land was purchased, and the\nPark, 115 acres in extent, was opened in 1869.\n\nOn the highest point of the ground there is a lake, which was in\nexistence before it became a public park. Near there stood Hornsey Wood\nHouse, a Tea Garden of some reputation in the eighteenth century. About\nthe year 1800 the old house was pulled down, and the new proprietor\nbuilt another tavern, and converted part of the remains of Hornsey\nWood into an artificial lake for boating and angling. This second\nhouse existed until it was pulled down in 1866, when the Park was in\nprogress. Hornsey Wood was part of the forest which bounded London on\nthe north, and the site of the Park was in the manor of Brownswood,\nwhich was held by the See of London.\n\nAccounts of various incidents which are connected with this spot are\ngiven in histories of Hornsey. The most picturesque is that in which\nthe ill-fated little King Edward V. is the central figure, overshadowed\nby his perfidious uncle. “The King on his "} -{"id": 240, "text": "way to London [from Ludlow]\nwas on the fourth of May met at Hornsey Park (now [1756] Highgate)\nby Edmund Shaw, the Mayor, accompanied by the Aldermen, Sheriffs and\nfive hundred Citizens on Horseback, richly accoutered in purple Gowns;\nwhence they conducted him to the City; where he was received by the\nCitizens with a joy inexpressible.... In this solemn Cavalcade, the\nDuke of Gloucester’s Deportment was very remarkable; for riding before\nthe King, uncovered, he frequently called to the Citizens, with an\naudible voice, to behold their Prince and Sovereign.” What a scene\nmust the site of Finsbury Park have presented that May morning. The\nLondoners, incensed at Gloucester’s having taken possession of the\nyoung King, no doubt meet him with distrust and anger, and while the\nprocession moves on towards the City he allays their suspicions, acting\na part to deceive them.\n\nThe trees in Finsbury are beginning to grow up, and the Park is losing\nthe new, bare look which made it unattractive in its"} -{"id": 241, "text": " early years.\nPoplars (fast-growing trees) have been largely used. That is very\nwell for a beginning, but others of a slower growth, but making finer\ntimber, are the trees for the future. There is nothing very special to\nnotice in the general laying out of the grounds, as beyond the avenue\nof black poplars and the lake, there are no striking features. The\nview from the high ground, towards Epping, adds to the attractions of\nthis useful open space but not very interesting Park. One of the most\npleasing corners is the rock garden, not far from the lake. The plants\nseem well established and very much at home. The green-houses, too, are\nwell kept up, and in the gloomy seasons of the year especially are much\nfrequented.\n\n\nCLISSOLD PARK\n\nClissold, or Stoke Newington Park, is one of the parks which has\nthe advantage of having been the grounds of a private house, and\nenjoys all the benefits of a well-planted suburban demesne. The old\ntrees at once give it a certain _cachet_ that even County Co"} -{"id": 242, "text": "uncil\nrailings, notice-boards, and bird-cages cannot destroy. It has the\nadditional charm of the New River passing through the heart of it, and,\nfurthermore, the ground is undulating.\n\nOne of the approaches to the Park still has a semi-rural aspect and\nassociations attached to it. This is Queen Elizabeth’s Walk, with\na row of fine elm trees, under which the Queen may have passed as\na girl while staying in seclusion at the manor-house, then in the\npossession of the Dudley family, relations to the Earl of Leicester.\nStoke Newington, until lately, was not so overrun with small houses\nas most of the suburbs. In 1855 it was described as “one of the few\nrural villages in the immediate environs [of London]. Though, as the\ncrow flies, but three miles from the General Post Office, it is still\nrich in parks, gardens, and old trees.” The last fifty years have quite\ntransformed its appearance. “Green Lanes,” which skirts the west of the\nPark, though with such a rural-sounding name, is a busy thoro"} -{"id": 243, "text": "ughfare,\nwith rushing trams; and, but for Clissold Park and Abney Park Cemetery,\nbut little of its former attractions would remain. The Cemetery is\non the grounds of the old Manor House, where Sir Thomas Abney lived,\nand “the late excellent Dr. Isaac Watts was treated for thirty-six\nyears with all the kindness that friendship could prompt, and all\nthe attention that respect could dictate.” The manor was sold by\ndirection of Sir Thomas’s daughter’s will, and the proceeds devoted to\ncharitable purposes. The old church, with its thin spire, and the new\nlarge, handsome Gothic church, built to meet the needs of the growing\npopulation, stand close together at one corner of the Park, at the\nend of Queen Elizabeth’s Walk, and on all sides the towers among the\ntrees form pretty and conspicuous objects. The house in the Park, for\nthe most part disused, stands above the bend of the New River, which\nmakes a loop through the grounds. It is a white Georgian house with\ncolumns, and looks well with wi"} -{"id": 244, "text": "de steps and slope to the water’s edge,\nnow alas! disfigured by high iron railings. The place belonged to the\nCrawshay family, by whom it was sold. The daughter of one of the owners\nhad a romantic attachment to a curate, the Rev. Augustus Clissold, but\nthe father would not allow the marriage, and kept his daughter more\nor less a prisoner. After her father’s death, however, she married\nher lover, and succeeded to the estate, and changed its name from\nCrawshay Farm to Clissold Place. This title has stuck to it, although\nit reverted to the Crawshays, and in 1886 was sold by them.\n\n[Illustration: STOKE NEWINGTON CHURCH FROM CLISSOLD PARK]\n\nThe Park measures 53 acres. There is a small enclosure with fallow\ndeer and guinea-pigs, some artificial water, and wide green spaces for\ngames; but the special beauty of the Park consists in the canal-like\nNew River, with walks beside it, and in places foliage arching over it,\nand the fine large specimen trees round the house. There are some good\ncedars"} -{"id": 245, "text": ", deciduous cypress, ilex, thorns, and laburnums; a good specimen\nof one of the American varieties of oak, _Quercus palustris_; also\nacacias and chestnuts--all looking quite healthy.\n\n\nSPRINGFIELD PARK\n\nNot very far from Clissold lies Springfield Park, in Upper Clapton,\nopened to the public in 1905. It also has the advantage of being made\nout of well laid out private grounds. The area, 32½ acres, embraced\nthree residences, two of which have been pulled down, while the third,\nSpringfield House, which gives its name to the Park, has been retained,\nand serves as refreshment rooms. The view from the front of the house\nover Walthamstow Marshes is very extensive. The ground slopes steeply\nto the river Lea, and beyond on the plain, like a lake, the reservoirs\nof the “East London Works,” now part of the Metropolitan Water Board,\nmake a striking picture. Springfield House was, until lately, one of\nthose pleasant old-fashioned residences of which there were many in\nthis neighbourhood, standing i"} -{"id": 246, "text": "n well-planted gardens overlooking\nthe marshes and fertile flats below. These delightful houses are\nbecoming more rare every year, and it is fortunate that the grounds\nof one of the most attractive should have been preserved as a public\npark. The place was well cared for in old days, as the good specimen\ntrees testify. A flourishing purple beech is growing up, also a sweet\nchestnut and several birches. A very old black mulberry still survives,\nalthough showing signs of age. There are other nice timber trees on the\nhillside, and among the shrubs an _Arbutus unedo_, the strawberry tree,\nis one of the most unusual. This Park, though small, is quite unlike\nany other, and has much to recommend it to the general public, while in\nthe more immediate neighbourhood it is greatly appreciated.\n\n\nWATERLOW PARK\n\nUndoubtedly the most beautiful of all the parks is Waterlow, the\nmunificent gift of Sir Sydney Waterlow. Its situation near Highgate,\nabove all City smoke; its steep slopes and fine trees; i"} -{"id": 247, "text": "ts old garden\nand historic associations, combine to give it a character and a charm\nof its own. It is small in comparison with such parks as Victoria,\nBattersea, or Finsbury, being only 29 acres, but it has a fascination\nquite out of proportion to its size. There are few pleasanter spots on\na summer’s day, and at any season of the year it would well repay a\nvisit. It is especially attractive when the great city with its domes\nand towers is seen clearly at the foot of the hill. London from a\ndistance never looks hard and sharp and clear, like some foreign towns.\nThe buildings do not stand up in definite outline like the churches\nof Paris looked down upon from the Eiffel Tower: the soft curtain of\nsmoke, the mysterious blue light, a gentle reminder of orange and black\nfog, shrouds and beautifies everything it touches. On a June day, when\nthe grass is vivid and the trees a bright pale green, Waterlow Park is\nat its best. The dome of St. Paul’s, the countless towers of Wren’s\ncity churches"} -{"id": 248, "text": ", the pinnacles of the Law Courts, the wonderful Tower\nBridge, dwarfing the old Norman White Tower, all appear in softened\nbeauty behind the fresh verdure, through well-contrived peeps and gaps\nin the trees.\n\nMost of the ground is too steep for the cricket and football to which\nthe greater part of other parks are given over. Only lawn tennis and\nbowls can be provided for, on the green lawns at the top of the Park.\nA delightful old pond, with steep banks overshadowed by limes and\nchestnuts, has a feeling of the real country about it. The concrete\nedges, the little patches of aquatic plants and neat turf, are missing.\nThe banks show signs of last year’s leaves, fallen sticks, and\nblackened chestnuts, and any green near it, is only natural wild plants\nthat enjoy shade and moisture. It is the sort of place a water-hen\nwould feel at home in, and not expect to meet intruding Mandarin\nducks or Canadian geese. Let us hope this quiet spot may long remain\nuntouched. There are two newer lakes low"} -{"id": 249, "text": "er down, laid out in approved\nCounty Council style, trim and neat, with water-fowl, water-lilies, and\njudicious planting round the banks of weeping willows and rhododendron\nclumps. Probably many visitors find them more attractive than the upper\npool. There is no fault to find with them, and they are perhaps more\nsuited to a public park, but they are devoid of the poetry which raises\nthe other out of the commonplace. As the slopes towards the lower\nlakes are the playground of multitudes of babies, it is necessary to\nprotect them from the water’s edge by substantial railings, but most of\nthe Park is singularly free from these unsightly but often necessary\nsafeguards. The trees all through the grounds are unusually fine. Four\nhickories are particularly worthy of note. They are indeed grand and\ngraceful trees, and it is astonishing they should be so little planted.\nThese are noble specimens, and look extremely healthy.\n\nThe most characteristic feature in the Park is the house it contains\na"} -{"id": 250, "text": "nd the garden immediately round it. This was built for Lauderdale,\nthe “L” in the Cabal of Charles II., probably about 1660. When\nthis unattractive character was not living there himself, he not\nunfrequently lent it to Nell Gwynn. The ground floor of the house is\nopen to the public as refreshment rooms, and one empty parlour with\nseats has much good old carving, of the date of the house, over the\nmantelpiece, also in a recess which encloses a marble bath known\nas “Nell Gwynn’s bath.” It is said to have been from a window in\nLauderdale House that she held out her son when Charles was walking\nbelow, threatening to let him drop if the King did not promise to\nconfer some title upon him. In response Charles exclaimed, “Save the\nEarl of Burford,” which title (and later, that of Duke of St. Albans)\nwas formally conferred upon him.\n\nThe terrace along which the King was walking is still there. A little\ninscription has been inserted on a sun-dial near the wall, to record\nthe fact that the dial-p"} -{"id": 251, "text": "late is level with the top of St. Paul’s\nCathedral. A flight of steps leads to a lower terrace. This is planted\nin a formal design consisting of three circles, the centre one having\na fountain. Two more flights of steps descend, in a line from the\nfountain, to a broad walk bordered with flowers leading to one of the\nentrances to the Park. At right angles to the other steps a walk leads\nfrom the fountain to another part of the garden, which is planted\nwith old fruit-trees on the grassy slope. It is at the foot of these\nsteps that the water-colour sketch is taken. The “eagles with wings\nexpanded” are the supporters of the Lauderdale arms. The whole garden\nis delightful, and so much in keeping with the house that it is easy to\npicture the much-disliked Lauderdale, the genial King, and fascinating\n“Nell,” living and moving on its terraces. Pepys gives a glimpse of one\nof these characters at home. He drove up alone with Lord Brouncker, in\na coach and six. No doubt the hill made the six very"} -{"id": 252, "text": " necessary, as in\nanother place Pepys talks of the bad road to Highgate. They joined Lord\nLauderdale “and his lady, and some Scotch people,” at supper. Scotch\nairs were played by one of the servants on the violin; “the best of\ntheir country, as they seemed to esteem them, by their praising and\nadmiring them: but, Lord! the strangest ayre that ever I heard in my\nlife, and all of one cast. But strange to hear my Lord Lauderdale say\nhimself that he had rather hear a cat mew, than the best musique in\nthe world; and the better the musique, the more sick it makes him; and\nthat of all instruments, he hates the lute most, and next to that the\nbaggpipe.” These sentiments may not prove that Lauderdale was “a man of\nmighty good reason and judgement,” as Lord Brouncker assured Pepys when\nhe said he thought it “odd company,” but at least it shows him honest!\nHow many people who sit patiently through a performance of the “Ring”\nwould have as much courage of their opinions?\n\n[Illustration: WATERLOW P"} -{"id": 253, "text": "ARK]\n\nWithin the grounds of the present Park, near Lauderdale House, stood a\nsmall cottage in which Andrew Marvel lived, which was only pulled down\nin 1869. It was considered unsafe, and no National Trust Society was\nthen in existence to make efforts for its preservation. In a “History\nof Highgate” in 1842 the connection between the place and this curious\npersonage, political writer, poet, Member of Parliament, and friend\nof Milton is barely commented on. “Andrew Marvel, a writer of the\nseventeenth century, resided on the Bank at Highgate in the cottage now\noccupied by Mrs. Walker.” The reader of these lines is penetrated with\na feeling that he ought to know all about Mrs. Walker, rather than the\nobscure writer!\n\nThe kitchen-garden is large, with charming herbaceous borders, and\na long row of glass-houses and vineries, and the grapes produced\nhave hitherto been given to hospitals. Let us hope that the same\ncomplaint will not arise here as in another Park, where out-door fruit\nwas distr"} -{"id": 254, "text": "ibuted, and caused such jealousies that the practice was\ndiscontinued.\n\nWith such a high standard set by the existing gardens, it is curious\nthat the new bedding should be as much out of harmony as possible. The\nbeds which call forth this remark are those round the band-stand. The\nshape of them it is impossible to describe, for they are of uncertain\nform and indistinct meaning. The flowers are in bold groups, and yet\nthey look thoroughly out of place.\n\nWandering one summer’s day near the statue, erected to Sir Sydney\nWaterlow, the writer overheard some girls, who looked like shop-girls\nout for a holiday, discussing who it was. The most enterprising went\nup and read the inscription. “To Sir Sydney H. Waterlow, Bart., donor\nof the Park 1889, Lord Mayor of London 1872–73. Erected by public\nsubscription 1900.” “Why, it’s to some chap that was once Lord Mayor,”\nwas the remark to her friend, following a close scrutiny of this bald\ninscription. The impulse to explain the meaning of the word “"} -{"id": 255, "text": "donor”\nwas irresistible; it was evidently quite Greek to these two Cockney\nyoung ladies. On learning the meaning they were very ready to join in a\ntribute of gratitude to the giver of such a princely present. Surely a\nfew words expressing such a feeling would have been appropriate on the\nstatue so rightly erected in memory of the gift! Profound feelings of\nthanks to the giver must indeed be experienced by every one who has the\nprivilege of enjoying this lovely Park, one of the most charming spots\nwithin easy reach of the heart of the City.\n\n\nGOLDER’S HILL PARK\n\nGolder’s Hill Park joins the western end of Hampstead Heath, but its\npark-like appearance and house and garden are quite a contrast to the\nwilder scenery of the Heath, although Golder’s Hill seems more in the\ncountry than Hampstead, as the houses near are so well hidden from it.\nThe mansion has a modern exterior, although parts of it are very old,\nand the fine trees in the grounds show that it has been a pleasant\nresidence for s"} -{"id": 256, "text": "ome hundreds of years. The estate of 36 acres was\nbought in 1898 from the executors of Sir Spencer Wells, the money in\nthe first instance being advanced by three public-spirited gentlemen,\nanxious to save the charming spot from the hands of the builder. The\nview from the terrace of the house, which now serves as a refreshment\nroom, is very pretty, with a gently sloping lawn in front, park-like\nmeadows, and fine trees beyond the dividing sunk fence, and distant\npeeps of the country towards Harrow. The approach from the Finchley\nRoad is by an avenue of chestnuts, and a flat paddock on one side is\na hockey and cricket-ground for ladies. There are some really fine\noaks, good beeches, ash, sycamore, Spanish chestnuts, and Scotch firs;\nbut the most remarkable tree is a very fine tulip, which flowers\nprofusely nearly every year. At the bottom of the Park an undisturbed\npond, with reedy margin, is much frequented by moor-hens. The valley\nabove is railed off for some red deer, peacocks, and an "} -{"id": 257, "text": "emu, while\nthree storks are to be seen prancing about under the oak trees in the\nopen Park. The most attractive corner is the kitchen-garden, which,\nlike the one in Brockwell, has been turned into an extremely pretty\nflower-garden. On one side is a range of hothouses, where plants are\nproduced for bedding out, and a good supply of fruit is raised and sold\nto the refreshment-room contractor on the spot. Two sides have old red\nwalls covered with pear trees, which produce but little fruit, and\nthe fourth has a good holly hedge. The vines from one of the vineries\nhave been planted out, and they cover a large rustic shelter, and have\npicturesque though not edible bunches of grapes every year. The way\nthe planting of roses, herbaceous and rock plants, and spring bulbs\nis arranged is very good; but the same misleadingly-worded notice\nwith regard to the plants of Shakespeare is placed here as in the\nBrockwell “old English garden.”[7] There is a nice old quince and other\nfruit-tree standards in"} -{"id": 258, "text": " this really charming garden. In another part of\nthe grounds there is an orchard, not “improved” in any way, but left\nas it might be in Herefordshire, with grass and wild flowers under the\ntrees, which bear bushels of ruddy apples every year.\n\nPart of the Park is actually outside London, but it is all kept up by\nthe London County Council. The parish boundary of Hampstead and Hendon,\nwhich is also the limit of the County of London, is seen in the middle\namong the oak trees.\n\n\nRAVENSCOURT PARK\n\nRavenscourt is another of those parks the nucleus of which was an old\nManor House, hence the existence of fine old trees, which at once lift\nfrom it the crudeness which is invariably associated with a brand-new\nMunicipal Park. A bird’s-eye view of the ground is familiar to many who\npass over the viaduct in the London and South-Western trains. These\narches intersect one end of the Park, and cut across the beginning of\nthe fine old elm avenue, one of its most beautiful features. A bright\npiece of ga"} -{"id": 259, "text": "rden, typical of every London Park, with raised borders in\nbays and promontories, jutting into grass and backed by bushes, lies to\nthe south of the viaduct. Where two paths diverge there is a pleasing\nvariation to the usual type--a sun-dial--erected by Sir William Bull to\n“a sunny memory.” The arches have been utilised so as to compensate for\nthe intrusion of the railway. Asphalted underneath, they form shelters\nin wet weather--one is given over to an aviary, two to bars for the\nelder children to climb on, and one is fitted with swings for the\nbabies. This arch is by far the most popular, and it requires all the\nvigilance of the park-keeper to see that only the really small children\nuse the swings, or the bigger girls would monopolise them. Perhaps the\nindulgent and fatherly London County Council will provide swings for\nthe elders, too, some day, and so remove the small jealousies.\n\nTo the west of the long avenue lies the orchard. A stretch of grass,\ndevoted to tennis-courts and bowlin"} -{"id": 260, "text": "g-greens, separates the pear trees\nfrom the walk. These pears and the solitary apple tree are delightful\nin spring, and a temptation in autumn. Round the house, which is not\nby any means as picturesque as the date of its building (about 1649)\nwould lead one to expect, are some good trees--planes that are really\nold, with massive stems, horse-chestnuts and limes, acacias that have\nseen their best days, cedars suffering from age and smoke, and a good\ncatalpa. The Manor House which preceded the present building was of\nancient origin. In early times it was known as the Manor House of\nPaddenswick, or Pallenswick, under the Manor of Fulham, and was the\nresidence of Alice Perrers, the favourite of Edward III. It was seized\nin 1378, when she was banished by Richard II.; but after the reversion\nof her sentence, she returned to England as the wife of Lord Windsor,\nand the King, in 1380, granted the manor to him. It is not heard of\nagain till Elizabeth’s time, when it belonged to the Payne family"} -{"id": 261, "text": ",\nand was sold by them in 1631 to Sir Richard Gurney, the Royalist Lord\nMayor, who perished in the Tower. After his death it was bought by\nMaximilian Bard, who probably pulled down the old house and built the\npresent one, which is now used as the Hammersmith Public Library. In\nthe eighteenth century the name was changed from Paddenswick (a title\npreserved by a road of that name running near the Park) to Ravenscourt,\nan enduring recollection of the device of a black raven, the arms of\nThomas Corbett, Secretary to the Admiralty, who owned the place for\na few short years. Nearly every vestige of the surroundings of the\nold manor was obliterated and improved away by Humphrey Repton, the\ncelebrated landscape gardener. He filled up most of the old moat,\nexcept a small piece, which was transformed into a lake, more in\nharmony with the landscape school to which he belonged. This piece of\nwater is a pretty feature in the Park, and an attempt has been made to\nrecall the older style, by introduci"} -{"id": 262, "text": "ng a little formal garden in an\nangle of the enclosing wall of the Park. The square has been completed\nwith two hedges, one of them of holly, and good iron gates afford an\nentrance. The “old English garden,” from which dogs and young children,\nunless under proper supervision, are excluded, is laid out in good\ntaste--a simple, suitable design, with appropriate masses of roses and\nherbaceous plants, arches with climbers, and an abundance of seats. It\nhas the same misleading notice with regard to Shakespearian plants, as\nin Golder’s Hill and Brockwell, one of the South London Parks, which\nmust now be looked at.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nMUNICIPAL PARKS IN SOUTH LONDON\n\n _No fresh’ning breeze--no trellised bower,\n No bee to chase from flower to flower;\n ’Tis dimly close--in city pent--\n But the hearts within it are well content._\n\n --ELIZA COOK.\n\n\nOf the South London Parks Battersea is the largest and most westerly,\nand the best known to p"} -{"id": 263, "text": "eople outside its own district. Battersea is\nentirely new, and has no history as a Park, for before the middle of\nlast century the greater part was nothing but a dismal marsh. The\nground had to be raised and entirely made before the planting of it as\na park could begin at all. The site was low-lying fields with reeds and\nswamps near the water, and market-gardens famous for the asparagus,\nsold as “Battersea bundles,” growing around it. In the eighteenth\ncentury three windmills were conspicuous from the river. One ground\ncorn, another the colours, and the third served to grind the white lead\nfor the potteries. This was during the time when Battersea enamel was\nat its height, and snuff-boxes were being turned out in quantities. On\nthe banks of the river stood a tavern and Tea Garden, known as the Red\nHouse for many generations. It was much resorted to, but latterly its\nreputation was none of the best. Games of all kinds took place in its\ngardens, and pigeon-shooting was one of the greates"} -{"id": 264, "text": "t attractions there,\nduring the first half of the nineteenth century. Although for long,\ncrowds enjoyed harmless amusements there--“flounder breakfasts,” and\nan annual “sucking-pig dinner,” and such-like--towards the end of the\ntime of its existence, it became the centre of such noisy and riotous\nmerrymakings that the grounds of the Red House became notorious.\nThe Sunday fairs, with the attendant evils of races, gambling, and\ndrinking, were crowded, and thousands of the less reputable sections\nof the community landed every Sunday at the Red House to join in these\nrevellings. It was chiefly with a view to doing away with this state\nof affairs, that the scheme was set on foot, for absorbing the grounds\nof the Red House, and other less famous taverns and gardens that had\nsprung up round it, and forming a Park.\n\nBattersea, or “Patricesy,” as it is written in Domesday, was a manor\nbelonging to the Abbey of Westminster until the Dissolution of the\nMonasteries. The name is most probably deriv"} -{"id": 265, "text": "ed from the fact that\nit was lands of St. Peter’s Abbey “by the water.” Later on it came\ninto the St. John family, and Henry St. John, Lord Bolingbroke, was\nborn and died in Battersea. After his death it was purchased by Earl\nSpencer, in whose family it remains. Part of the fields were Lammas\nLands, for which the parish was duly compensated. The gloomy wildness\nof the fields gave rise to superstitions, and a haunted house, from\nwhich groans proceeded and mysterious lights were seen at night,\nat one time scared the neighbourhood, and enticed the adventurous.\nThe only historical incident, connected with the fields, is the duel\nfought there in 1829 between the Duke of Wellington and the Marquess\nof Winchelsea; the latter having personally attacked the Duke during\nthe debates on the Catholic Emancipation Bill. The Duke aimed his shot\nthrough his adversary’s hat, who then fired in the air, and the affair\nof honour was thus settled. Battersea Fields were approached, in those\ndays, by the old"} -{"id": 266, "text": " wooden Battersea Bridge which had superseded the\nferry; the only means of communication till 1772. The present bridges\nat either corner of the Park have both been built since the Park was\nformed.\n\nLike Victoria Park, Battersea was administered with the other Royal\nParks, in the first instance. The Act of Parliament giving powers\nto the “Commissioners of Her Majesty’s Woods” to form the Park was\npassed in 1846, but so much had to be done to the land, that the\nactual planting did not begin until 1857. The ground had all to be\ndrained, and raised, and a proper embankment made to keep out the\nriver. Just at this time the Victoria Docks were being excavated,\nand the earth dug out of them was conveyed to Battersea. Places were\nleft, to form the shallow artificial lake, mounds raised, to make the\nground round the water undulating, and the rest of the surface of\nthe Park levelled. Altogether about a million cubic yards of earth\nwere deposited in Battersea Park. The extent is 198 acres, and fr"} -{"id": 267, "text": "om\nthe nature of the ground, except the artificial elevations near the\nlake, it is quite flat. The design was originally made by Sir James\nPennethorne, architect of the Office of Works, and the execution of\nit completed by Mr. Farrow. The chief features, are the artificial\nwater (for the most part supplied by the Thames), and the avenue of\nelms which traverses the Park from east to west, and cross walks, with\na band-stand and drinking-fountain at the converging points. Round the\nPark runs a carriage drive, and, following a different line, a track\nfor riders--with the usual spaces for games between. The trees are\ngrowing up well, so already any bareness has disappeared. The absolute\nflatness, which makes the open spaces uninteresting, is relieved by the\navenue, which will some day be a fine one.\n\nIt is an object-lesson to show the advantage of avenues and shady\nwalks, too often ignored by modern park designers, or only carried\nout in a feeble, half-hearted way. The chief variation in Ba"} -{"id": 268, "text": "ttersea\nPark was achieved by John Gibson, the Park Superintendent, who made\nthe sub-tropical garden in 1864. His experience, gained on a botanical\nmission to India, which he undertook for the Duke of Devonshire, well\nfitted him for the task. This garden has always been kept up and added\nto, and specially improved in the Seventies, while the present Lord\nRedesdale was at the Office of Works.\n\nA sub-tropical garden was quite a novelty when first started here, and\ncaused much interest to horticulturalists and landscape gardeners.\nThe “Sub-tropical Garden,” by W. Robinson, and other writings on the\nsubject, have since made the effects which can be produced familiar\nto all gardeners; but in 1864 to group hardy plants of a tropical\nappearance, such as aralias, acanthus, eulalias, bamboos, or fan palms,\nwas a new idea. During the summer, cannas, tobacco, various palms,\nbananas, and so on, were added to the collection, and caused quite an\nexcitement when they first appeared at Battersea. The g"} -{"id": 269, "text": "arden is still\nkept up, and looks pretty and cool in summer, and on a cold winter’s\nday is sheltered and pleasant. But much of the charm and originality\nof the early planting has been lost, in the present official idea of\nwhat sub-tropical gardens should contain, which carries a certain\nstereotyped stiffness with it.\n\nIn 1887 the Park, at the same time as Victoria and Kennington, was\ngiven up to the Metropolitan Board of Works, and since then the control\nhas passed to its successor, the London County Council. The gardens are\nkept up, more or less, as before, with a few additions. An aviary with\na restless raven, fat gold and silver pheasants, and contented pigeons,\ndelights the small children, who are as plentiful in Battersea as in\nall the other London playgrounds. Like the other parks, Saturdays and\nSundays are the great days. The games of cricket are played as close\ntogether as possible, until to the passer-by the elevens and even the\nballs seem hopelessly mixed. The ground not devo"} -{"id": 270, "text": "ted to games is thickly\nstrewn with prostrate forms, and certainly, in this, Battersea is by no\nmeans singular! In autumn, one of the green-houses, in which the more\ntender sub-tropical plants are housed is given up to chrysanthemums.\nThis flower is the one of all others for London. It will thrive in\nthe dingiest corners of the town, and display its colours long after\nthe fogs and frosts have deprived the parks and gardens of all other\ncolour. The shows in the East End testify to what can be achieved, even\nby the poorest, with this friendly plant. Every year at Shoreditch\nTown Hall the local exhibition takes place, and there are many similar\ninstitutions, where monster blooms, grown on roofs or in small back\ngardens, would compete creditably at a national show. The popularity\nof the chrysanthemums in Battersea Park is so great, that on a fine\nSunday there is a string of people waiting their turn of walking\nthrough, stretching for fifty yards at least from the green-house to\nthe entranc"} -{"id": 271, "text": "e to the frame-ground. Certainly the arrangement of the\ngreen-house is prettily done. The stages are removed, and a sanded path\nwith a double twist meanders among groups of plants sloping up to the\nrafters, and a few long, lanky ones trained to arch under the roof.\nThe show is much looked forward to, and the colours and arrangements\ncompared with former years, praised or criticised, such is the eager\ninterest of those who crowd to take their turn for a peep. It is\ndelightful to watch the pleasure on all faces, as a whole family out\nfor their Sunday walk, press in together. It is only one more instance\nof the joy the London Parks bring to millions of lives.\n\nThe world of fashion has only attacked Battersea Park spasmodically.\nWhen it was new, and the sub-tropical garden a rarity, people drove out\nfrom Mayfair or Belgravia to see it. Again Battersea became the fashion\nwhen the cycling craze began. In the summer of 1895 it suddenly became\n“the thing” to bicycle to breakfast in Battersea P"} -{"id": 272, "text": "ark, and ladies\nwho had never before visited this South London Park flocked there\nin the early mornings. It was away from the traffic that disturbed\nthe beginner in Hyde or St. James’s Park, and perhaps the daring\noriginality of cycling seemed to demand that conventions should further\nbe violated; and nothing so commonplace as Hyde Park would satisfy the\naspirations of the newly-emancipated lady cyclists. What would their\nancestors, who had paced the Mall in powder and crinolines, have said\nto the short-skirted, energetic young or even elderly cyclist? No doubt\nsome of that language which shocks modern ears, used by the heroines in\n“Sir Charles Grandison,” would have been found equal to the occasion.\nThe great cycling rage is over, and Battersea is again deserted by fair\nbeings, who now prefer to fly further afield in motors, but the Park\nis just as crowded by those for whose benefit it was really made--the\never-growing population of London south of the river.\n\n\nVAUXHALL PARK\n\nGoing ea"} -{"id": 273, "text": "st from Battersea the next Park is Vauxhall, a small oasis of\ngreen in a crowded district. Although only 8 acres in extent, it is a\ngreat boon to the neighbourhood, and hundreds of children play there\nevery day. It has been open since 1891, the land, occupied by houses\nwith gardens, having been acquired and the houses demolished, and the\nlittle Park is owned and kept up by Lambeth Borough Council.\n\nIt has nothing to do with the famous Vauxhall Gardens, to which the\nrank and fashion of the town flocked for nearly two hundred years;\nand the country visitor to Vauxhall Park could hardly speak of it in\nsuch glowing terms as Farmer Colin to his wife in 1741 of the famous\nVauxhall Spring Gardens:--\n\n “O Mary! soft in feature,\n I’ve been at dear Vauxhall;\n No paradise is sweeter,\n Not that they Eden call.\n\n “Methought, when first I entered,\n Such splendours round me shone,\n Into a world I ventured\n Where rose another sun.”\n\nThe site of these Garde"} -{"id": 274, "text": "ns, which covered some twelve acres with groves,\navenues, dining-halls, the famous Rotunda and caverns, cascades and\npavilions, is now all built over. It lay about as far to the south-east\nof Vauxhall Bridge as the little Park is to the south-west. In name\nVauxhall sounds quaint and un-English. In earlier times it was known\nas Foxhall, or more correctly Foukeshall, from Foukes de Breant, who\nmarried a sister of Archbishop Baldwin in the latter half of the\ntwelfth century.\n\nThe land of the present Park was purchased in May 1889.[8] Then it\nwas covered by houses standing in their own grounds. The largest of\nthese was Carroun or Caroone House, which had been built by Sir Noel\nde Caron, who was Ambassador of the Netherlands for thirty-three\nyears, during the reigns of Elizabeth and James I.--the others, a row\nof eight with gardens, were known as “The Lawn.” In front of them was\na long pond, said to have been fed by the Effra River. This stream,\nwhich rose in Norwood and flowed into the Tha"} -{"id": 275, "text": "mes at Vauxhall, has,\nlike most of the other streams of London, become a sewer, and the pond\nis no more. In one of these houses (51 South Lambeth Road) Mr. Henry\nFawcett resided, and when the houses were pulled down to form the Park\nhis was left, the intention being to make it into some memorial of\nhim. It was found to be too much out of repair to retain, and had to\nbe pulled down. With the sum which the sale of materials from the old\nhouse realised, it was proposed to erect a memorial drinking-fountain.\nThis idea bore fruit, as Sir Henry Doulton sold one to the vestry\nfor less than one-third of its value, and moreover gave a further\nmemorial to the courageous blind Postmaster-General of a portrait\nstatue by Tinworth, with appropriate allegorical figures. This fine\ngroup recording the connection of Henry Fawcett with the place is\nthe most conspicuous feature of the Park. The trees are growing up,\nand an abundance of seats and dry walks made it an enjoyable if not\nbeautiful garden. The "} -{"id": 276, "text": "swings and gymnasiums are numerous and large,\nbut what gives most pleasure is the sand-garden for little children.\nFor hours and hours these small mites are happily occupied digging\nand making clean mud pies, while their elders sit by and work. It is\ntouching to see the miniature castles and carefully patted puddings\nat the close of a busy baby’s day. In the summer, when the sand is\ntoo dry to bind, some of the infants bring small bottles, which they\nmanage to get filled at the drinking-fountain, and water their little\nhandfuls of sand. These children’s sand-gardens, common in parks in\nthe United States, are a delightful invention for the safe amusement\nof these small folk, and the delight caused by this one, which was\nonly made in 1905, shows how greatly they are appreciated. Many of the\nparks and some of the commons now have their “sea-side” or “sand-pit,”\nand probably not only do they give immense pleasure, but they act as\na safety-valve for small mischievous urchins, who otherwise "} -{"id": 277, "text": "could not\nresist trespassing on flower-beds.\n\nThe grass in this, as in all the parks, has to be enclosed at times, to\nlet it recover, the tramp of many feet. The wattled hurdles which are\noften used in the London Parks for this purpose, have quite a rustic\nappearance. They are like those which appear in all the agricultural\nscenes depicted in fifteenth century MSS. It is much to be hoped that\nno modern invention in metal will be found to take their place.\n\n\nKENNINGTON PARK\n\nNot very far from Vauxhall, beyond the famous Oval, lies the larger and\nmore pretentious Kennington Park of 19½ acres. This has a long history\nas Kennington Common. It formed part of the Duchy of Cornwall estates,\nhaving been settled by James I. on Prince Henry, and has since belonged\nto each succeeding Prince of Wales. In still earlier times there was a\nRoyal Palace at Kennington, which fell into decay after Henry VIII.’s\nreign. Here as on all similar commons, the people had a right of\ngrazing cattle for six months"} -{"id": 278, "text": " of the year. But the moment it was open\nto them in the spring such a number of beasts were turned on to the\nground, that in a very short time “the herbage” was “devoured, and it\nremained entirely bare for the rest of the season.”\n\nThe Common was a great place for games of all sorts, particularly\ncricket. When in 1852 it was turned into a Park, and play could not go\non to the same extent, by suggestion of the Prince Consort, a piece of\nland, then market-gardens, was let by the Duchy to the Surrey Cricket\nClub, which was formed for the purpose of maintaining it. This is the\nground that has since gained such notoriety as the Oval, the scene of\nmany a match historical in the annals of cricket. The Common, too, was\nfamous for the masses that collected there to hear Whitfield preach.\nHis congregations numbered from 10,000 to 40,000 persons, and his voice\nwould carry to the “extremest part of the audience.” He notes in his\ndiary, Sunday, May 6, 1731--“At six in the evening went and preached\n"} -{"id": 279, "text": "at Kennington; but such a sight I never saw before. Some supposed\nthere were above 30,000 or 40,000 people, and near fourscore coaches,\nbesides great number of horses; and there was such an awful silence\namongst them, and the Word of God came with such power, that all seemed\npleasingly surprised. I continued my discourse for an hour and a half.”\nThe last time he preached there was a farewell sermon before he went to\nAmerica in August 1739.\n\nTwo other incidents are connected with Kennington Common, neither so\npleasant--the scenes of the execution for high treason, with all the\nattendant horrors, of the “Manchester rebels” after the ’45; and the\ngreat Chartist revolutionary meeting under Feargus O’Connor in 1848.\nThe precautions taken by the Duke of Wellington saved the situation,\nand the 200,000 people who it had been proposed should march to\nWestminster melted away, and the whole thing was a fiasco.\n\nIt was soon after this episode that the Common was converted into a\nPark. The ground, "} -{"id": 280, "text": "including all the Common and the site of the Pound,\nwas handed over by the Duchy of Cornwall (by Act of Parliament), to be\nlaid out as “Pleasure grounds for the recreation of the public; but if\nit cease to be so maintained” to “revert to the Duchy.”\n\nThe transformation has been very successful, and the design was\nsuitable and well conceived. The large greens are divided by wide\npaths shaded by trees, and each section can be closed in turn to\npreserve the grass. There is a sunk formal garden, bedded out with\nbright flowers, which show up well on the green turf; and at one end\nthere are shrubberies with twisting walks in the style that is truly\ncharacteristic of the English Park, and seems to appeal to so many\npeople. The whole space is not large, but the most is made of it, and\nboth the formal and the “natural” sections have their attractions. At\nthe “natural” end, near the church--which, by the way, was built as a\nthank-offering after Waterloo--is a handsome granite drinking-fountain,\n"} -{"id": 281, "text": "designed by Driver, and presented by Mr. Felix Slade; and in the centre\nof the Park is a fountain, given by Sir Henry Doulton, with a group of\nfigures by Tinworth, emblematic of “The Pilgrimage of Life.” The Lodge\nwas the model lodging-house erected by the Prince Consort in the Great\nExhibition of 1851.\n\n\nMYATT’S FIELDS\n\nMyatt’s Fields or Camberwell Park is but a short distance to the\nsouth-west of Kennington. This Park of 14½ acres was one of those\nprincely gifts which have been showered on the inhabitants of London.\nIt was presented by Mr. William Minet, in whose family the land has\nbeen since 1770. His ancestors were Huguenots who had come to England\nat the time of the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes.\n\n[Illustration: FOUNTAIN BY TINWORTH, KENNINGTON PARK]\n\nIt was handed over to the newly-formed County Council in 1889,\nhaving been previously laid out. The way in which this was done with\nan avenue, which will some day be one of the great beauties of the\nneighbourhood, and which is i"} -{"id": 282, "text": "n the meantime a pleasant shady walk, has\nalready been commented on. For its size, Myatt’s Fields is one of the\nmost tasteful of the new parks. Its quaint name is a survival of the\ntime when the ground was a market-garden leased by a certain Myatt from\n1818–69. The excellent qualities of the strawberries and rhubarb raised\nthere, gave the Fields such a good reputation in the district, and the\nname became so familiar, that it was retained for the Park.\n\nCamberwell Green is a distinct place, not far distant, and is noticed\namong the village greens of London.\n\n\nRUSKIN PARK\n\nRuskin Park, the newest of all the parks, is not very far from\nCamberwell, and has been formed of a cluster of houses, with grounds\nof their own, on Denmark Hill, known as the Sanders’ Estate. The name,\nwhich has an “Art Nouveau” sound about it, and raises an expectation\nof something beautiful, was given to it because John Ruskin for many\nyears lived in the neighbourhood. From 1823, when he was four, to 1843,\nhis home "} -{"id": 283, "text": "was 28 Herne Hill, and there he wrote “Modern Painters.” From\nthen until 1871 he lived even nearer the present Park, at 163 Denmark\nHill. Describing the house, Ruskin wrote of it: “It stood in command\nof seven acres of healthy ground ... half of it meadow sloping to the\nsunrise, the rest prudently and pleasantly divided into an upper and\nlower kitchen-garden; a fruitful bit of orchard, and chance inlets and\noutlets of wood walk, opening to the sunny path by the field, which\nwas gladdened on its other side in springtime by flushes of almond\nand double peach blossom.” Such might have been the description of\nthe houses and grounds now turned into a park. Some of the lines of\nthe villa gardens have been retained, and some wise and necessary\nadditions and changes have been made to bring the whole together; but\neven the inspiration of Ruskin has not kept out the inevitable edges\nand backbones of uninteresting evergreens. Some of the green-houses\nhave been kept, but six dwellings have been de"} -{"id": 284, "text": "molished, and one of\nthe two retained will be used as a refreshment room. The outside wall\nof the garden front of one, covered with wistaria, has been left,\nfacing its own little terrace and lawn and cedars, and soon after the\nopening, in February 1907, many people found it was possible to get\nsun and shelter and enjoy the prospect from the seats in front of the\nruined drawing-room windows. The dividing wall of two houses has been\ncleverly turned into what will be a charming pergola, and below, the\nground has been levelled to form a bowling-green. The terraces and\nsteps from one level to another are a pleasing feature in the design.\nThe ground is not yet finished, and it is greatly to be hoped that\nthe usual clumps of evergreens will not be multiplied, but Ruskin’s\ndescription borne in mind, and let there be almonds and double peaches\nto gladden the spring, and not drooping, smutty evergreens, or “ever\nblacks,” as they might be more fittingly called, to jar on the picture\nof fresh youn"} -{"id": 285, "text": "g growth. The pond, a stiff oval, has had to have the\nnecessary iron railings, and the trees near it have been substantially\nbarricaded with rustic seats--a most important addition. The avenue of\nchestnuts which crosses the open part of the ground has been left; and\nthere are other good young trees growing up, and a fine old ilex and\nmulberry. There is already a question of adding a further 12 acres to\nthis Park, which is 24 acres at present, but the scheme is still under\nconsideration.\n\n\nBROCKWELL PARK\n\nThose who want a change, from the roar and bustle of streets, can\nattain their object very quickly by the expenditure of a few pence\nand fifteen minutes in the train. Getting out at Herne Hill Station,\nin a few seconds the gates of Brockwell Park are reached. The old\ntrees and undulating ground are all that could be desired, but the\nchief attraction, and the object that well repays a visit, is the\nold walled garden. It is a high brick enclosure, with fine old trees\npeeping above, and f"} -{"id": 286, "text": "estoons of climbing plants brightening the dull red\nwalls. The narrow paths, running in straight lines round and across,\nare here and there, spanned by rustic arches covered with roses, or\nclematis, or gourds, from which hang glowing orange fruit in autumn.\nIn the centre of the garden a small fountain plays on to moss-grown\nstones, and on a hot summer’s day the seats, shaded by the luxuriant\nTraveller’s Joy, make a cool resting-place, though not so sequestered\nas the arbours in the angles of the wall, darkened by other climbers.\nThe rest of the garden is a delightful tangle of herbaceous plants.\nAll the old favourites are there, and a small notice near the entrance\nannounces to those in search of knowledge that the garden contains all\nherbs and garden plants mentioned in Shakespeare’s works. A little\nknowledge is a dangerous thing, and the unwary might not realise that\nthe flowers of Shakespeare’s time, although undoubtedly there, only\nform a small portion of the whole display. The boa"} -{"id": 287, "text": "rd is literally\ntrue, but visitors are apt to go away with the idea that brilliant\ndahlias, and gaudy calceolarias, or even the most modern introduction,\n_Kochia tricophila_, were friends of Shakespeare’s! A large number of\nthe plants, however, are truly of the Elizabethan age, that golden\ntime of progress in gardening as well as of other arts, when spirited\ncourtiers and hardened old sailors alike scoured the seas and brought\nstrange plants from new lands. Many of these now familiar treasures\nfrom east and west flourish in this little enclosure, and recall the\nromantic days of the sixteenth century: the Marvel of Peru--the very\nname tells the delight that heralded its arrival from the West--the\nquaint Egg-plant (_Solanum ovigerum_) brought from Africa, and the\nbright-seeded Capsicums from India. Even the bush, with its wealth of\nwhite or purple flowers, the _Hibiscus Syriacus_, was known in those\ndays, though not by that name. Gerard, in describing it, says it was\na stranger to Englan"} -{"id": 288, "text": "d; “notwithstanding, I have sowen some seedes of\nthem in my garden, expecting successe.” That delightful confidence,\nwhich is the great characteristic of all these old gardeners, was not\nabused, apparently, in this case, for two years later, in the catalogue\nof plants in his garden, 1599, this great tree mallow was flourishing.\nMany of the gourds, which are grown to great advantage in this little\ngarden, were also known at an early date. Gerard says of them, “they\njoy in a fruitful soil, and are common in England.” Were it not for\nthe conspicuous little notice-board, no fault could be found with the\nselection of plants which, from early spring till late autumn, brighten\nthis romantic little garden. The _Solanum jasminoides_ is none the\nless graceful because it has only found a home in sheltered corners in\nEngland, for the last seventy years. _Cobæa scandens_, which festoons\nvery charmingly some of the arches, is certainly an old friend, having\nbeen over a hundred years in this country;"} -{"id": 289, "text": " but it is a new-comer when\ncompared with the Passion Flower growing in profusion near it, and even\nthat did not appear until after Shakespeare’s death. It was unknown to\nGerard, but his editor, Thomas Johnson, illustrates it in the appendix\nto the edition of 1633. It had then arrived from America, “whence it\nhath been brought into our English gardens, where it growes very well,\nbut floures only in some few places, and in hot and seasonable yeares:\nit is in good plenty growing with Mistresse Tuggy at Westminster,\nwhere I have some years seene it beare a great many floures.” Mistress\nTuggy and her friend would have rejoiced at the sight of the house in\nthe centre of Brockwell Park on a warm October day, thickly covered\nwith the golden fruit as well as star-like flowers of their precious\n“Maracoc or Passion-floure.”\n\n[Illustration: OLD ENGLISH GARDEN, BROCKWELL PARK]\n\nThis delightful walled garden was the old kitchen-garden. Luckily,\nthe fashion for the gardens of a past generation was g"} -{"id": 290, "text": "rowing at the\ntime the Park was purchased, and the London County Council must be\ncongratulated on the good taste displayed in dealing with it. The\nhistory of the acquisition of the ground is soon told. The desire for\na park in this neighbourhood led those interested to try and arrange\nto buy Raleigh House in the Brixton Road, with some 10 acres of land,\nfor about £40,000. Having got an Act of Parliament to allow this,\nBrockwell Park came into the market with a ready-made park of 78 acres.\nThe Act of 1888 was repealed, and eventually a sum of nearly £120,000\nwas spent on the purchase of Brockwell, which was opened to the public\nin 1892. Near the entrance gates, close to Herne Hill Railway Station,\na drinking-fountain, with a graceful figure of “Perseverance” and\nportrait bust, has been erected to Mr. Thomas Lynn Bristowe, M.P. for\nNorwood, who was chiefly instrumental in obtaining the Park, and whose\ndeath occurred with tragic suddenness at the opening ceremony. It is\nquite a steep hill"} -{"id": 291, "text": " up to the house, which is of no great antiquity\nor beauty, having been built at the beginning of last century, when\nthe older manor-house was pulled down, by Mr. Blades, the ancestor of\nthe last owner. The view on all sides is extensive, and the timber\nis fine. There are good old oaks, as well as elms and limes; and it\nis satisfactory to see that, in the recent planting, limes have been\ngiven a place, and not only the overdone plane. As a contrast to the\ndelightful formal garden, some pretty wild grouping has been carried\nout beside the artificial water. This series of ponds are an addition\nto the Park as originally purchased. It now measures 84 acres, and\nthe extra piece contained water, which has been enlarged into a big\nbathing-pool and a so-called “Japanese garden.” These ponds are well\narranged; and although there are various kinds of ducks and geese and\nblack swans, and concrete edges and wire netting are inevitable, they\nare not so aggressive as in many parks. In places tall pl"} -{"id": 292, "text": "ants have been\nput in behind the railings and allowed to hang over, to break the undue\nstiffness. In the late autumn purple Michaelmas daisies nearly touched\nthe water, and the red berries of the Pyracantha overhung the ducks\nwithout apparent disagreement.\n\nThe opening of Brockwell as a public Park has had the effect of\nbanishing most of the rooks. There was a large rookery, but year by\nyear the nests decrease. In 1896 there were thirty-five nests, the next\nyear twenty, while in 1898 there were only eight or ten. Thus every\nseason they are getting fewer, but still, in the spring of 1907, one\npair of rooks were bold enough to build.\n\n\nDULWICH PARK\n\nDulwich Park is not very far from Brockwell, but its surroundings\nare more open. A few of the roads near it have some feeling of the\ncountry left. The houses that are springing up are of a cheerful villa\ntype, and have nothing of the monotony and dulness of most of the\nsuburbs. Fine old trees grow along many of the roads. The chestnuts,\nfor i"} -{"id": 293, "text": "nstance, in Half Moon Lane between Herne Hill and Dulwich\nare charming, and also on the further side of the Park, where the\ncelebrated inn, the “Green Man,” was situated, there is a rural aspect\nand a delightful walk between trees. It was within the grounds of the\n“Green Man” that the Wells of chalybeate water were situated. The Wells\nhad been discovered in the reign of Charles II., and the water sold in\nLondon, but the “Green Man” did not become a popular resort until after\n1739. A story connected with this popular spa is recorded in the “Percy\nAnecdotes” in 1823. A well-known literary man was invited to dinner\nthere, and wished to be directed. However, he inquired vainly for the\n“Dull Man at Greenwich,” instead of the “Green Man at Dulwich.” One\nof the entrances to the Park is close to the site of the once famous\nWells. The Park itself, which covers 72 acres, was the munificent gift\nof Dulwich College. The gift was confirmed by an Act of Parliament\nin 1885, and the Park opened to the"} -{"id": 294, "text": " public in 1890. The College was\nfounded by Edward Alleyn in 1614, who called it “The College of God’s\nGift.” Originally, there were besides the Master, Warden, and four\nFellows, six poor brethren and six sisters, and thirty out-members.\nThe value of the property has so enormously increased that the number\nof scholars has been very greatly added to, and now hundreds of boys,\nsome quite free, and some for a very low fee, obtain a sound commercial\neducation. The founder was a friend of Shakespeare, and one of the best\nactors of his plays in the poet’s lifetime. His early biographers go\nout of their way to refute the alleged reason of his founding “God’s\nGift College,” namely, that when on one occasion he was personating the\ndevil, the original appeared, and so frightened him that he gave up the\nstage to devote himself to good works. Were this story true, the vision\nwas certainly well timed, and has produced unexpected and far-reaching\nresults. The educational work, the picture gallery, a"} -{"id": 295, "text": "nd the well laid\nout estate of Dulwich Manor, including the large public Park, are all\nthe direct result!\n\nThere are a few fine old trees in the Park, particularly a row of\ngnarled oaks near the lake. This is a small sheet of water on the\nside nearest the College. The carriage road, which encircles the\nPark, crosses by a stone bridge the trickling stream, formed by the\noverflow from the lake. On the south-east side of the Park there are\nbut few trees, but large masses of rhododendrons and azaleas have\nbeen planted, which make a brilliant show in the summer. The most\ndistinctive feature is the rock gardening. There is a very large\ncollection of Alpine and rock plants, which are growing extremely well\nand covering the stones with delicious soft green cushions, which turn\nto pink, yellow, white, and purple, as the season advances. Even in\nthe cold, early spring, snowdrops, and the pretty little Chionodoxa,\nthe “Glory of the Snow,” begin to peep out amongst the rocks, and\nthese are the har"} -{"id": 296, "text": "bingers of a succession of bloom, through the spring\nand summer months. On either side of one of the entrances, a long and\npleasing line of this rock-work extends, but the plants for the most\npart are grown on mounds like rocky islands rising up from a sea of\ngravel. There are several of these isolated patches in the middle of\nthe carriage drive. It is certainly fortunate, for those who only\ndrive round the Park, thus to have a full view of the charming rock\nplants; but to compare such a display to the rock garden at Kew is\nmisleading. There may be nearly as many plants at Dulwich as at Kew,\nbut the arrangement of that charming little retired valley at Kew is\nso infinitely superior that the comparison is unjustified. The small\nstream which leaves the lake, and other places in the Park, offer,\njust as good a foundation for a really effective rock garden as the\none at Kew. Such an arrangement would give a much better idea of the\nplants, in their own homes, than the islands in the roadway"} -{"id": 297, "text": ", that\nmust suffer from dust, besides looking stiff and unnatural. It is,\nhowever, delightful to see how well these plants are thriving. This is\nhardly astonishing, as it is not in a crowded, smoky district, but in\none of the most favoured of suburbs. Dulwich Park adds greatly to the\nadvantages of the neighbourhood: it has not hitherto been crowded, and\nis by no means a playground of the poorest classes, but now the advent\nof electric trams and rapid communication may somewhat lessen its\nexclusiveness.\n\n\nHORNIMAN GARDENS\n\nThere are gardens of a very different character round the Horniman\nMuseum, not far distant. This collection, as well as the 9¼ acres of\nground adjoining it on Forest Hill, were the gift of the late Mr. J. F.\nHorniman, M.P., and the garden, kept up by the London County Council,\nwas opened in June 1901. The situation is extremely attractive. A\nsteep walk up an avenue from London Road, Forest Hill, near Lordship\nLane Station, leads to a villa standing in its own grounds,"} -{"id": 298, "text": " which is\nutilised for refreshment rooms and caretaker’s house, &c. The lawns\ndescend steeply on three sides, and on the western slope there is a\nwide terrace, with a row of gnarled pollard oaks. From this walk there\nis a wide and beautiful view, over the hills and parks, chimney-pots\nand steeples of South London, with the lawns and pond of Horniman\nGardens in front. On this terrace a shelter and band-stand have been\nput up, and no more favoured spot for enjoying the open-air town life,\nso common on the Continent, but until lately so rare in England, can\nwell be imagined. The country round is still fairly open, between\nForest Hill and Brixton. Near the foot of Horniman Gardens lies Dulwich\nPark, with the shady path known as “Cox’s Walk,” from the proprietor\nof the “Green Man,” and the roads lined with trees connect Dulwich\nwith Brockwell Park, Herne Hill, so that this corner of London is well\nsupplied with trees.\n\n\nDEPTFORD PARK\n\nDeptford Park is a complete contrast to the semi-rural D"} -{"id": 299, "text": "ulwich. It\nis in one of the most densely-populated and poor districts, where\nit is greatly needed, and has been open since 1897. The site was\nmarket-gardens, and was sold by the owner, Mr. Evelyn, below its value,\nto benefit the neighbourhood. It is merely a square, flat, open space\nof 17 acres, with only a few young trees planted round the outskirts.\nNear the principal entrance in Lower Road, the approach is by a short\nwalk between two walls. Along either side of the pathway, and for some\nlittle distance to the right and left, after the open space is reached,\na nice border of herbaceous plants has been made along the wall, and\na few beds placed in the grass on either side, and ornamental trees\nplanted. Thus the entrance to this wide playground is made cheerful and\nattractive, and a pleasant contrast to the grimy streets outside.\n\n\nTELEGRAPH HILL\n\nBetween these two extremes lies a small Park known as Telegraph Hill.\nIt is only 9½ acres, and is cut in two by a road, but it is very\nvarie"} -{"id": 300, "text": "d in surface. The origin of its name is from its having been a\nstation for a kind of telegraphy that was invented before the electric\ntelegraph had been discovered. Two brothers Chappé invented the\nsystem, and were so successful in telegraphing the news of a victory\nin 1793, that their plan was adopted in France, and soon throughout\nEurope. In Russia a large sum was expended in establishing a line of\ncommunication between the German frontier and St. Petersburg; but so\nslow was the building that the stations were hardly at work before\nthey were superseded by electricity. The signals were made by opening\nand shutting six shutters, arranged on two frames on the roofs of a\nsmall house, and by various combinations sixty-three signals could\nbe formed. The Admiralty established the English line, of this form\nof telegraphy between Dover and London in 1795, and the first public\nnews of the battle of Waterloo actually reached London by means of the\none on “Telegraph Hill.” The place was well cho"} -{"id": 301, "text": "sen, for even now, all\nsurrounded by houses, the hill is so steep and conical, that a very\nextensive view is still obtained. The site of the semaphore station is\nnow a level green for lawn tennis. On the other side of the roadway,\nthe descent is steep into the valley, and there are two small ponds at\nthe bottom. The cliffs are covered with turf, interspersed by the usual\nmeaningless clumps of bushes, and a few nice trees.\n\n\nSOUTHWARK PARK\n\nSouthwark Park lies far away from Southwark, beyond Bermondsey, in\nRotherhithe. It was in the parliamentary borough of Southwark, hence\nthe misleading name. The Park is a gloomy enough place when compared\nwith the more distant or West End Parks, but a perfect paradise in\nthis crowded district. Between its creation in 1864 and its completion\nin 1869, a great reformation was worked in the district. Close to the\ndocks, and intersected by streams and canals, with the poorest kind\nof rickety houses so vividly described by Dickens in “Oliver Twist,”\nthe su"} -{"id": 302, "text": "rroundings were among the most dismal imaginable. The actual\nsite of the Park was partly market-gardens, which had for long been\nestablished in this locality owing to the fertility of the alluvial\nsoil. Vines were grown here for wine with success in the first half\nof the eighteenth century, when there was a revival in grape-growing,\nand vineyards were planted at Hoxton and elsewhere. Over 100 gallons of\nwine were made in a year in Rotherhithe. Some of the earth excavated\nfrom the Thames Tunnel was put on the ground covered by the Park before\nthe laying out commenced. When the land, 65 acres, was bought, only 45\nwere to be kept for the Park, and the rest were reserved for building.\nBut when the day of building arrived there was such an outcry that the\nwhole plan was remodelled, the drives which encircled it done away\nwith, and tar-paved paths substituted, only one driving road crossing\nit being left, and the ponds added. It is more the want of design, than\nany special style, that is con"} -{"id": 303, "text": "spicuous, and a good deal more could have\nbeen done to make the Park less gloomy. An avenue is growing up, but\nit will never have the charming effect of the one across Battersea, as\nthe line is neither straight nor a definite curve. The wild fowl on\nthe pond are such an attraction, that perhaps it may be that the wire\nnetting and asphalt edges they apparently require are not drawbacks,\nbut they are not beautiful. The gateway into the Park, near Deptford\nStation, has rather the grim look of a prison, and yet, with the forest\nof masts behind, all it requires is a climbing plant or two to make\na picture. On the opposite end of the Park runs Jamaica Road, which\nperpetuates the name of a well-known Tea Garden, Jamaica House. Pepys\nrecords a visit there, on a Sunday in April 1667. “Took out my wife,\nand the two Mercers, and two of our maids, Barker and Jane, and over\nthe water to Jamaica House, where I never was before, and there the\ngirls did run for wagers over the bowling-green; and there"} -{"id": 304, "text": ", with much\npleasure, spent little and so home.” Pepys’ home in Seething Lane near\nthe Tower would be an easy distance from the Tea Gardens of Redriff, as\nRotherhithe was called then, and in the days when Swift made Gulliver\nlive there. There were other well-known Tea Gardens near, the “Cherry\nGarden,” “Half-way House,” and at a much later date “St. Helena’s\nGardens,” which were only closed in 1881. The disappearance of all the\nTea Gardens and open spaces made the necessity of a Park very obvious,\nand it was to meet this want that Southwark Park was made.\n\n\nMARYON PARK\n\nThere is one more small Park to complete the line of South London\nParks, for which the public is indebted to Sir Spencer Maryon-Wilson,\nthe lord of the manor of Charlton, in which parish it is situated. It\nlies between Greenwich and Woolwich, and the South-Eastern Railway\nskirts the northern side. The ground was chiefly large gravel pits, and\nhas a hill in the middle partly caused by the excavations. This hill\nhas some "} -{"id": 305, "text": "pretty brushwood still growing on its slope, showing it was\nonce joined to Hanging Wood, a well-known hiding-place of highwaymen.\nIt was conveniently thick, and there are many tales of pursuit from\nBlackheath which ended by losing the thieves in Hanging Wood. The hill\nin the Park is locally known as Cox’s Mount, having been rented by an\ninhabitant of that name in 1838, who built a summer-house there and\nplanted poplars. The area of the Park is about 12 acres, and except\nfor one or two trees on the Mount and patches of brushwood, it is open\ngrass. The boys on the _Warspite_ training ship anchored near are\nallowed to play cricket there, provision for this having been made by\nthe generous donor of the Park in the deed of gift to the London County\nCouncil in 1891.\n\nQuite outside these crowded districts, yet within the County of London,\nlie three more Parks maintained by the County Council. The one nearest\nthe heart of London is Manor Park, or Manor House Gardens, between the\nHigh Road, Lee"} -{"id": 306, "text": ", and Hither Green Station, opened in 1902. There are\n8¾ acres here attached to the Lee Manor House, a substantial building\nin the Adams style, now used as the Public Library. The Gardens slope\ngently away from the house to a large pond--or lake as the Council\nwould prefer to call it--and beyond to a rapid little stream, the\nQuaggy, a tributary of the Ravensbourne. Beyond the Quaggy’s steep\nbanks, well protected by spiked railings, is a flat green devoted\nto games. The chief beauty of this little Park is four magnificent\nold elms and a few other good trees--beech, chestnut, _Robinia\nspeudo acacia_, &c. In the spring of 1907 the pond was in process of\ncleaning, so no rooks had ventured to build within the Park, but just\nat the gates a large elm in a small garden had been favoured by these\ncapricious birds, and their hoarse voices were making a deliciously\ncountrified sound.\n\nThe other London County Council Parks are in what is still nearly open\ncountry, although rows of villas are being"} -{"id": 307, "text": " rather rapidly reared in\nthe district. Eltham is one of these. It is at present not enclosed\nwith massive iron railings, but the wide, flat stretch of smooth\nturf, studded with patriarchal trees, is left untouched, except that\na few spaces have been levelled for games. This Park of 41 acres\nwas bought in 1902, the Borough of Woolwich paying half the cost of\npurchase--£9600--with the Council.\n\nStill further into the country is Avery Hill, with the large house\nand grounds, extending over 84 acres, built and laid out by Colonel\nJ. T. North. The London County Council were offered this estate in\n1902, if purchased within a certain limit of time, for £25,000. Usually\nthe Council, in making a purchase, have ascertained beforehand what\ncontributions the local Boroughs were prepared to subscribe towards the\ntotal cost, but, on this occasion, the Boroughs were invited to share\nthe expense after the purchase had been made, with the result that\nall those concerned--Camberwell, Lewisham, Greenwich"} -{"id": 308, "text": ", Deptford, and\nWoolwich--refused; so the whole of the purchase and upkeep devolved on\nthe London County Council. The large mansion is now used as a teachers’\ntraining college for girls, but the greater part of the grounds, and\nthe immense winter gardens are open to the public. It is still so\nfar from the centres of population that the public who make use of\nthese spacious gardens is very limited. The nearest railway station,\nNew Eltham, is three-quarters of a mile distant from the Park, and\nhalf-an-hour or more by train from Charing Cross. Although it is now\nso far into the country, and some people would deprecate the purchase,\nit is only fair to remember that most of the crowded districts were\nalso country not long ago, and that when land is dear and houses being\nbuilt is not a favourable moment to purchase. As a rule it is want of\nforesight that is the complaint, and not excess of zeal, as in this\ncase. The garden is made use of to furnish supplies of plants to some\nof the smaller p"} -{"id": 309, "text": "arks, and a portion is being reserved for growing\nspecimens for demonstration in the Council Schools. On the west side\nof the house there are three terraced gardens, prettily planted with\nroses and fruit-trees. In front of the house a sloping lawn, with\na few large beds, touches the park-like meadows studded with trees.\nSheep feeding with their tinkling bells gives a rural appearance. To\nthe large, modern, very red brick house is attached a huge winter\ngarden. This is on a very large scale, with lofty palms, date, dom, and\ncocoa-nut growing with tropical luxuriance in the central house, with a\nlarge camellia house on one side and a fernery with rock-work, pools,\nand goldfish on the other. All this requires a good deal of keeping\nup--nearly £3000 a year--and although it has been open now some five\nyears, it has been enjoyed by few. It is greatly to be hoped that it\nhas a much-appreciated future before it.\n\nSuch is a slight sketch of some of London’s Parks. No doubt there\nis much that co"} -{"id": 310, "text": "uld be changed for the better, both in design and\nplanting: less sameness and meaningless formality without true lines\nof beauty in design would be an improvement. In planting, there might\nbe more variety of British trees--alder, oak, ash, and hawthorn; and a\nwider range of foreign ones--limes, American or Turkey oaks, and many\nothers; more climbing plants, such as Virginian creepers, more simple\nherbaceous borders and fewer clumps of unattractive bushes, and more\nlilacs, laburnums, thorns, almonds, cherries, and medlars in groups\non the grass. If greater originality was displayed and a thorough\nknowledge of horticulture were shown, especially by the authorities\nthat supervise the largest number of these parks, many improvements\nin existing ones could be easily achieved, and in forming new parks\nthe same idea need not be so rigidly followed. But, in spite of small\ndefects, the Parks as a whole are extremely beautiful, and Londoners\nmay well be proud of them.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nCOMMONS A"} -{"id": 311, "text": "ND OPEN SPACES\n\n _’Tis very bad in man or woman\n To steal a goose from off the common,\n But who shall plead that man’s excuse\n Who steals the common from the goose?_\n\n --AN OLD DITTY.\n\n\nIt was only fifty years ago, when the want of fresh air and room\nfor recreation was being realised, that people began to wake up to\nthe truth that there were already great open spaces in London which\nought to be cared for and preserved. It was brought home by the fact\nthat over £1000 an acre was being paid to purchase market-gardens or\nfields so as to transform them into parks, while at the same time land\nwhich already belonged to the people was being recklessly sold away\nand built over. All through the history of most of the common lands\nencroachments of a more or less serious nature are recorded from time\nto time. The exercise of common rights also was often so unrestrained\nas to inflict permanent injury on the commons. The digging for gravel\nwas "} -{"id": 312, "text": "frequently carried to excess, whins and brushwood were cut, and\ngrass over-grazed until nothing remained. At last, in 1865, a Commons\nPreservation Society was formed with the view of arousing public\nattention to the subject. As is often the case, some people ran to\nthe opposite extreme, and wished to transform the commons into parks\nwithout giving compensation to the freeholders and copyhold tenants,\nwho thereby would lose considerable benefits. In some cases after the\nMetropolitan Commons Act of 1866 was passed, the Lord of the Manor, on\nbehalf of all the freeholders, disputed the right of the Metropolitan\nBoard of Works to take the land without compensation to the owners. The\nlord of the manor was considered unreasonable by some of the agitators\nfor the transference of the common lands to public bodies, but he was\nfighting the battle of all the small owners. The freeholders in some\ncases were as many as fifty for some 40 acres. Many of the commons were\nLammas Lands. The freeholders, "} -{"id": 313, "text": "of which there were a large number, had\nthe use of the land from the 6th of April until the 12th of August,\nand the copyhold tenants of the manor had the right of grazing during\nthe remainder of the year. The number of cattle each could graze\nwas determined by the amount of rent they paid, and the grazing was\nregulated by the “marsh drivers,” men elected annually by the courts\nof the Manor for the purpose. A curious incident in connection with\nthese rights happened on Hackney Downs in 1837. The season was late,\nand the steward of the Manor put up a notice to the effect that as the\nfreeholders’ crops were not gathered the grazing on the Downs could not\nbegin until the 25th, instead of the usual 12th of August. The marshes\nand other common lands in the parish were open, so there was actually\nplenty of pasture available for those entitled to it. There was a fine\ncrop of wheat on some plots on the Downs, and on the morning of Monday\nthe 14th August, “a few persons made their appearance and"} -{"id": 314, "text": " began to help\nthemselves to the corn.” Summoned before the magistrates, the bench\ndecided that after the usual opening day the corn “was common property,\nand could be claimed by no one parishioner more than another.” On the\nstrength of this decision the whole parish turned out, and a terrible\nscene of looting the crop took place, while the poor owners vainly\ntried to save what they could. The freeholder with the most wheat, a\nMr. Adamson, lost over £100 worth, although he worked all night to\nsave what he could. A case followed, as Mr. Adamson prosecuted Thomas\nWright, one of the many looters who thought they had a right to it,\nfor stealing his wheat. This time the magistrates fined the man twenty\nshillings, and half-a-crown, the value of the wheat he had actually\ntaken, as he had no right to take away the crop, although he had a\nright to put cattle on the Downs. Further trials for riot before the\nCourt of Queen’s Bench resulted in the prisoners being discharged after\nthey had pleaded "} -{"id": 315, "text": "guilty. It appeared both the looters and Mr. Adamson\nwere in the wrong. They had no right to remove the corn, neither had\nhe, after the 12th August, and those who had grazing rights could have\nturned on their cattle to eat the standing corn. This incident just\nshows how the right of freeholders and copyholders could not lightly be\ntrifled with.\n\nThe report of the Select Committee on Open Spaces in 1865 pointed out\nin the same way, that although the right to these common lands had\nbeen enjoyed from time immemorial, the rights were vague as far as the\npublic at large were concerned. They were probably limited to a certain\ndefined area or body of persons, as the inhabitants of a parish, and\nit was doubtful if the custom would hold good at law for such a large\nplace as London. Thousands of people from all parts of London trampling\nover a common was a very different thing to the free use of it by\nthe parishioners. This report led to the passing of the Metropolitan\nCommons Act of 1866. Both "} -{"id": 316, "text": "before and after this Act there were several\nothers for the maintenance and regulation of the commons and all the\nparks, gardens, and open spaces too numerous to mention.[9]\n\nUnder the present system most of the metropolitan commons and heaths\nare in the hands of the County Council, and in some cases considerable\nsums have been spent on them. Among the smaller ones is London Fields,\nHackney, the nearest open space to the city. This was in a very untidy\nstate when first taken in hand after 1866. The grass was worn away, and\nit was the scene of a kind of fair, and the resort of all the worst\ncharacters in the neighbourhood. It used to be known as Shoulder of\nMutton Fields, and the name survives in a “Cat and Mutton” public-house\non the site of a tavern which gave its name to the fields. It was in\nthe eighteenth century a well-known haunt of robbers and footpads, and\nin spite of a watch-house and special guard robberies were frequent.\nThe watch must have been rather slack, as about 1732 a"} -{"id": 317, "text": " Mr. Baxter was\nrobbed about five in the morning “by two fellows, who started out on\nhim from behind the Watch-House in the Shoulder of Mutton Fields.”\nHackney is rich in open spaces, as besides London Fields there is\nHackney or Well Street Common, near Victoria Park, Mill Fields, Stoke\nNewington and Clapton Commons, Hackney Downs (over 40 acres) on the\nnorth, and Hackney Marshes (337 acres) on the east. These were Lammas\nLands, and the marshes were used for grazing until within the last few\nyears, when the rights were bought up and the land finally thrown open\nto the public in 1894. The river Lea skirts the marsh, and used not\nunfrequently to flood, doing considerable damage. The London County\nCouncil have made four cuts across the bends of the river, forming\nislands. The water now can more easily flow in a wet season, and the\nperiodical inundations no longer occur. The planting of these islands\nhas not been carried out at all satisfactorily. An utter want of\nappreciation of the habit"} -{"id": 318, "text": "s of plants or the localities suited to them\nhas been shown. A stiff row of the large saxifrage, _S. cordifolia_,\ncharming in a rock garden or mixed border, has been put round the\nwater’s edge, and behind it, berberis, laurels, and a few flowering\nbushes suited to a villa garden shrubbery. The opportunity for a\nreally pleasing effect has thus been missed, and money wasted. A few\nwillows and alders, with groups of iris and common yellow flags, and\nfree growing willow herb, and purple loosestrife, would soon, for much\nless expense, have made the islands worthy of a visit from an artist.\nInstead, an eyesore to every tasteful gardener and lover of nature has\nbeen produced. The beauty of the marsh has always been appreciated by\nthe dwellers in Hackney and Clapton. The view over the fertile fields\nfrom the high land was one of the attractions since the time when Pepys\nwrote, “I every day grow more and more in love with” Hackney.\n\nHackney Downs now form a large open area for recreation, but t"} -{"id": 319, "text": "hey were\nfruitful fields sixty years ago. An engraving, from a drawing by W.\nWalker, dated 1814, represents a “Harvest Scene, Hackney Downs, with\na View of the Old Tower, and Part of the Town of Hackney,” and gives\na delightful picture of harvesters reaping with sickles, and binding\nup sheaves of the tall, thick-growing corn. That some of the Downs\nwere arable land was a grievance to those who had grazing rights, and\nthere was a considerable agitation to get the freeholders to lay it all\ndown in grass, after the incident of looting the corn in 1837, already\nreferred to. The Downs continued rural within the memory of many still\nliving. The Lord of the Manor remembers that an inhabitant stated that\nshe had, whilst walking across the Downs, startled a wild hare from\nher form. This would be about the year 1845, and for ten or twelve\nyears later there were partridges in the larger fields of turnip and\nmangold-wurzel which adjoined the Downs. The rural character has quite\nchanged, and now th"} -{"id": 320, "text": "e Downs are a large open space, with young trees\ngrowing up to supply shade along the roads which encircle the wide\ngrassy area.\n\nHighbury Fields, although much smaller than Hackney Downs, being\nonly 27 instead of 41 acres, play as important a part in the north\nof London, as the Downs do in the north-east. They are not, however,\nCommon Lands, but until recently were actually fields with sheep\ngrazing in them. Tradition points to Highbury Fields as the site of\nthe Roman encampment during the final struggle with Boadicea. In the\nMiddle Ages they belonged to the Order of St. John of Jerusalem, and\nthere the rebels of the Wat Tyler rising, headed by Jack Straw, camped\nafter leaving Hampstead. There are a few old trees still standing in\nthe Fields, which were formerly within the grounds of two detached\nresidences, one of them the Manor House. An old “moated grange,”\nor barn, belonging to the ancient Priory, gives its name to the\npublic-house, Highbury Barn, the goal of motor omnibuses. The "} -{"id": 321, "text": "moat was\nonly filled up fifty years ago, and the old buildings pulled down,\nafter enjoying some notoriety as a Tea Garden for over a century. A\npart of the present Fields was called “the Reedmote,” or “Six Acre\nField,” and is also shown on old maps as “Mother Field.” When Islington\nSpa was a fashionable resort, and Sadler’s Wells at the height of its\nprosperity, the houses facing the Fields were built. On the north-west\nthe row is inscribed in large letters, “Highbury Terrace, 1789,” and\nthis, according to old guide-books, “commands a beautiful prospect.” On\nthe east lies another substantial row of eighteenth-century mansions,\nand the inhabitants are proud to point out to strangers No. 25 Highbury\nPlace as the house in which Mr. Chamberlain lived, from the age of\nnine until he was eighteen, when he went to live in Birmingham. His\npresent home, now so well known, was built in 1879, and was named in\nremembrance of Highbury Place. In the early years of the nineteenth\ncentury several well-"} -{"id": 322, "text": "known people were living in these houses. John\nNichols, the biographer of Hogarth, who was for fifty years editor of\nthe _Gentleman’s Magazine_, died there in 1826. A few years later a\nhistorian of Islington describes Highbury Place as “thirty-nine houses\nbuilt on a large scale, but varying in size, all having good gardens,\nand some of them allotments of meadow land in the front and rear. The\nroad is private, and is frequented only by the carriages passing to and\nfrom the several dwellings situated between the village and Highbury\nHouse.” This description draws a very rural picture, of which nothing\nnow remains but the name. The Fields were turned into a public Park in\n1885, and now consist of wide open spaces for games, with intersecting\npaths well planted with limes, elms, chestnuts, and planes, and an\nabundance of seats. Near the point where Upper Street, Islington ends\nand Holloway Road joins it, a memorial to the soldiers and volunteers\nof Islington who fell in the Boer War has be"} -{"id": 323, "text": "en erected, and the figure\nof Victory stands conspicuously facing the approach from the city.\n\nBy far the most beautiful and the most frequented of all London Commons\nis Hampstead Heath. The original Heath measured 240 acres, but, with\nthe addition of Parliament Hill, there are now over 500 acres of wild\nopen country for ever preserved for the benefit of Londoners. ’Appy\n’Ampstead, the resort not only of ’Arrys and ’Arriets, but poets,\nartists, and people of every rank in life, is too well known to demand\ndescription. The view from it seems more beautiful every time the\noccasional visitor ascends the hill, and gazes down on London and away\nover the lovely country of the Thames valley. The County Council, the\npresent holders of this public trust, have mercifully refrained from\nturning it into a park--the original intention of those who first\nwished to preserve it. The bracken still flourishes, the gorse still\nblooms, and there is yet a wild freshness about it that has not been\n“improved"} -{"id": 324, "text": "” away.\n\nHampstead has had periods of fashion as a residence. In the eighteenth\ncentury it is described as “a village in Middlesex, on the declivity\nof a fine hill, 4 miles from London. On the summit of this hill is\na heath, adorned with many gentlemen’s houses.... The water of the\n[Hampstead] Wells is equal in efficacy to that of Tunbridge, and\nsuperior to that of Islington.” These Wells appear to have first\nattracted notice in the time of Charles II. In 1698, Susanna Noel and\nher son, third Earl of Gainsborough (then the owner of the soil), gave\nthe Well, with six acres of ground, to the poor of Hampstead. For more\nthan thirty years the Wells, with all the attendant attractions of\nthe pump-room, with balls and music, drew the fashionable world up to\nHampstead. It was said to be “much more frequented by good company than\ncan well be expected, considering its vicinity to London; but such care\nhas been taken to discourage the meaner sort from making it a place\nof residence, that it is n"} -{"id": 325, "text": "ow become ... one of the Politest Public\nPlaces in England.” Here Fanny Burney made her heroine, Evelina, attend\ndances, and it plays a part in the fortunes of Richardson’s Clarissa\nHarlowe; and here all the wits and poets of the time mingled in the\ngay throng. Many have been the celebrated residents in Hampstead--Lord\nChatham, Dr. Johnson, Crabbe, Steele, Gay, Keats, William Blake, Leigh\nHunt, Romney and Constable, John Linnell, and David Wilkie among the\nnumber. The site of the pump-room is all built over, but some fine old\nelm trees in Well Walk, still have an air of romance and faded glory\nabout them. The houses near the Heath--such as Shelford, afterwards\nRosslyn House, with a celebrated avenue of Spanish chestnuts, The\nGrove, Belsize Park, the residence of Lord Wotton, and then of Philip,\nEarl of Chesterfield--have all been consumed by the inroads of bricks\nand mortar. It is more than likely that the Heath would have shared\nthe same fate, had not the inhabitants taken active step"} -{"id": 326, "text": "s to arouse\npublic attention to preserve this wild heath, unequalled near any great\ncity. Already aggressive red villas were making their appearance in\nfar too great numbers. The western side was dotted over with them.\nThat the purchase of it for the public benefit has been appreciated\nit is not difficult to prove, when over 100,000 visit it on a Bank\nHoliday. It was the commencement of building operations near the\nFlagstaff by the lord of the manor, Sir Thomas Maryon Wilson, in the\nheart of the Heath, that brought things to a crisis in 1866. A case\nbegan against the lord of the manor, but he died before it was ended,\nand his brother, Sir John, being willing to compromise, the sum of\n£47,000 was agreed on for the sale of the Heath to the Metropolitan\nBoard of Works. The few houses dotted about on the Heath are those of\nsquatters, who have established their right by the length of time they\nhave been in possession. The small hamlet or collection of houses in\nthe “Vale of Health,” those n"} -{"id": 327, "text": "ear the “Spaniards” and round Jack Straw’s\nCastle, have existed from time immemorial, although few old houses of\ninterest remain, and large, unsightly buildings have taken the place\nof the picturesque ones. In the Vale of Health the houses are chiefly\ngiven up to catering for holiday-makers. The “Spaniards,” at the most\nnortherly point of the Heath, is a genuine old house, and it still\nhas a nice garden, although all the alleys and fantastic ornaments\nwhich made it popular, in the eighteenth century, have vanished. The\nname came from the fact that the first owner was a Spaniard. The next\nproprietor was a Mr. Staples, who “improved and beautifully ornamented\nit.” The house was on the site of the toll-gate and lodge to Caen\nWood, and its position saved that house from destruction, at the time\nof the Gordon riots. The rioters had burnt and wantonly destroyed\nLord Mansfield’s house in Bloomsbury Square. Maddened with drink, and\nflushed with triumph at the success of their outrages, they ma"} -{"id": 328, "text": "de\na bonfire in the square of the invaluable books collected by Lord\nMansfield. Their temper may be imagined as they marched by Hampstead to\ncommit the same violence at Caen Wood, Lord Mansfield’s country house.\nThe proprietor of the “Spaniards” invited them in, and threw open his\ncellars to the mob. Fresh barrels of drink were sent down from Caen\nWood, and meanwhile messengers were despatched for soldiers; so that\nby the time all the liquor had been consumed, and the drunken rioters\nbegan to proceed, they were confronted by a troop of Horse Guards,\nwho, in their addled condition, soon put them all to flight. The name\nof the other inn on Hampstead Heath, which stands conspicuously on the\nhighest point, 443 feet above the sea, is Jack Straw’s Castle, and has\nalso some connection with a riot. Jack Straw was one of the leaders in\nthe Wat Tyler rebellion, and after burning the Priory of St. John of\nJerusalem, he came up to Hampstead and Highgate, though there is no\ndirect evidence to conne"} -{"id": 329, "text": "ct him, in 1381, with any tavern on the spot\non which the inn stands. The addition of Castle to the name is from\nthe fact, that there was some sort of fortress or earthworks on this\ncommanding point. The inn on the site was known as the Castle Inn, and\nnot until 1822 is there any mention of it as Jack Straw’s Castle. The\nwood of the gallows on which a famous highwayman was hung behind the\nhouse in 1673 was built into the wall. Jack Straw’s Castle is now quite\nmodernised, but the view from it, on all sides, is still as lovely as\never. The Whitestone Pond in front is really a reservoir, and to the\nsouth of that lies the Grove, with fine trees and some old-fashioned\nhouses. The most picturesque walk is that known as the Judges’ or\nKing’s Bench Walk, from a tradition that justice was administered under\nthe trees there, when the judges fled from London at the time of the\nGreat Plague. This walk is on the south-west side of the Heath, the\nWell Walk on the south-east. To the east of the highe"} -{"id": 330, "text": "st point with\nJack Straw’s Castle and the road which runs northwards towards the\n“Spaniards” is the Vale of Health, and below are a series of ponds.\nHampstead has always furnished a water-supply for the city at its feet.\nWhen more water was required, in the sixteenth century, the Lord Mayor\nproposed to utilise the springs there, and convey the water to London\nby conduits. A pound of pepper at the Feast of St. Michael annually\nto the “Bishop of Westminster,” was the tribute for the use of the\nwater, as the land belonged to the Abbey of Westminster, having been\ngranted to it by King Ethelred in 986. The managers of water-supply\nin 1692 were a company known as the Hampstead Water Company, which\nbecame absorbed in the New River Company. The lakes are very deep, and\ndangerous for boating, bathing, and skating, although used for all\nthose purposes.\n\nThe hill which rises beyond the ponds and stretches away to the east,\nis part of the land adjoining the true Heath, which was bought in\n1887, so"} -{"id": 331, "text": " as to double the area of open country, and prevent that side\nof the Heath being overlooked by houses. The character is quite a\ncontrast, and lacks the wildness, but it is pretty, park-like scenery,\nand Hampstead Heath would have been greatly spoilt had this further\nwide space of pasture land not been saved. The first hill to the east\nof the Heath is crowned by a mound or tumulus, which was opened a\nfew years ago; the investigations leading scientists to believe that\nit was a British burial-place of the bronze age. This used to be very\npicturesque with a group of Scotch firs--now, alas! all dead. The next\nhill is Parliament or Traitor’s Hill, and there is no very definite\nsolution of the name. It may have been a meeting-place of the British\n“Moot” or Parliament, or the origin may only be traced to Cromwell’s\ntime. As if to encourage the tradition being kept up, a stone suggests\nthat meetings may take place within 50 yards of the spot by daylight.\nBelow the hill are flat meadows by Gosp"} -{"id": 332, "text": "el Oak, said to be so named from\nits being a parish boundary, and the Gospel was read under the tree to\nimpress the parishioners, with the same object as the other and more\nfamiliar form of beating the bounds. These Gospel Oak fields are the\ntypical London County Council greens for games, so gradually, after\nleaving the summit of the Heath, the descent is made, from the artistic\nand picturesque, to the practical and prosaic.\n\nHampstead was always famous for its wild flowers. The older botanists\nroamed there in search of rare plants, and the frequent references in\ntheir works, especially in Gerard’s “Herbal,” show how often they were\nsuccessful. Osmundas, or royal ferns, sundew or drosera, and the bog\nbean grew in the damp places, and lilies of the valley were among the\nfamiliar flowers. As late as 1838 a work on London Flora enumerates 290\ngenera, and no less than 650 species, as found round about the Heath.\nThe soil, the aspect, the situation, are all propitious. Even now it\nis so far"} -{"id": 333, "text": " above the densest smoke-fogs that much might be done to\nencourage the growth of wild flowers. It is true notice-boards forbid\nthe plucking of them, and that is a great step in advance--but the\nsowing of a few species, which have become extinct, would add greatly\nto the charm of the place. It is also still the favourite haunt of wild\nbirds, and the more the true wildness is encouraged, the more likely\nthey are to frequent it. It is much to be hoped that the London County\nCouncil will refrain in their planting, from anything but native trees\nand bushes which look at home, and which would attract our native\nsongsters. Within the last ten or twelve years a very great variety of\nbirds have been recorded either as nesting there or as visitors. The\nfollowing list (taken from “Birds in London” by W. H. Hudson, 1898) may\ninterest bird lovers:--\n\nWryneck, cuckoo, blackcap, grasshopper, sedge, reed and garden\nwarblers, both white-throats, wood and willow wrens, chiff-chaff,\nredstart, stonechat, "} -{"id": 334, "text": "pied wagtail, tree pipit, red-backed shrike,\nspotted fly-catcher, swallow, house martin, swift, goldfinch,\nwheat-ears in passage, fieldfare in winter, occasionally redwings, also\nredpoles, siskin, and grey wagtail.\n\nThis list is certainly a revelation to those who only associate dusty\nsparrows and greedy wood-pigeons with the ornithology of London.\nNo better testimony is wanted to prove that Hampstead is still the\nbeautiful wild Heath that has given pleasure to so many generations.\n\nThe only other large space of common land, north of the river within\nthe London area, is Wormwood Scrubs, of very different appearance\nand associations from Hampstead. The manorial and common rights\nwere purchased by the War Office, and the ground made over to the\nMetropolitan Board of Works in 1879, with reservations for the rifle\nrange and military exercises. The space is altogether over 200 acres.\nThe ground in ancient times was a wood, adjoining “Old Oak Common,”\njust beyond the London boundary, which w"} -{"id": 335, "text": "as covered with patriarchal\noaks. The last was felled in 1830. The ground, being flat, is admirably\nsuited for the War Office purposes; it has gone through a process\nof draining, and the only part not downtrodden by soldiers has been\n“improved” by the London County Council, so there is little wildness\nor attraction in the place. The presence of a prison, erected in 1874,\nstill further diminishes its charm as an open space.\n\nThis completes the open large spaces on the north; the south of the\nriver is even richer in commons. One of the most thoroughly rural spots\nwithin the London area is Bostall Wood. There is nothing to spoil the\nillusion, and for quite a considerable walk it would be easy to imagine\nthat a journey on the magic horse of the “Arabian Nights” had been\ntaken to some distant forest land, to forget that the roar of the town\nwas barely out of one’s ears, and that ten minutes’ walk would take\none, out of the enchanted land, back to suburban villas and electric\ntrams.\n\nBeyond "} -{"id": 336, "text": "the inevitable band-stand, which attracts thousands on a summer\nSunday evening, there is nothing to jar, and spoil the illusion of\nreal country. The woods, and Bostall Heath which adjoins them, can\nbe reached from Plumstead or Abbey Wood Station, in twenty minutes’\nwalk up the steep hill. Pine woods crest the summit, and below them\nstretches a delightful thicket, chiefly of oaks and sweet chestnut,\nwith an undergrowth of holly and a pleasant tangle of bracken and\nbramble, where the blackbirds, chaffinches, and robins call to each\nother and flit across the path. Steep slopes, and valleys, and hollows\nclothed with trees, give possibilities of real rambles, in a truly\nsylvan scene. Under the pines, which are tall enough to produce that\nsoothing, soughing sound even in the most gentle breeze, the carpet of\npine needles is cushioned here and there with patches of vivid green\nmoss where the moisture has penetrated. Beyond the Wood lies the Heath,\nstudded with birch trees, among gorse and bra"} -{"id": 337, "text": "cken. There are narrow\ngullies and glades, like miniature “gates” or “gwyles” of the sea\ncoast, and at the foot of the Heath lie the marshes, often in the soft\nlight as blue as the sea, and the silver Thames, a bright streak across\nthe picture, chequered with the red sails of the barges, and tall masts\nof the more stately ships.\n\nThe whole area of woods and common is only about 133 acres, but the\nvaried surface, and the distant views from it, make it appear of larger\nextent. It is little known to most Londoners, although the Heath was\npurchased as far back as 1877, and the Wood bought by the London County\nCouncil in 1891. The place, however, is much frequented and duly\nappreciated by the neighbouring population. This peaceful country-side\ncould be reached within an hour, from any point in the City. It is\nattractive at all times of the year, especially in spring, when the\ngreen is pale and the young brackens, soft and downy, are uncurling\ntheir fronds, and the dark firs stand up in shar"} -{"id": 338, "text": "p contrast to the\ntender greens. Or, perhaps, still more delightful is it in autumn, when\n\n “Red o’er the forest gleams the setting sun,”\n\nand the oaks have turned a rich russet, and the birches, of brilliant\nyellow, shower their tiny leaves on the mossy earth, like the golden\nshowers which fell on Danaë in her prison.\n\nThe attractive wood-clad hills of Bostall are the most remote of\nall London’s open spaces. They lie the furthest east on the fringe\nof the suburbs. From Bostall westward roofs and chimney-pots become\ncontinuous--Woolwich, Greenwich, Deptford, Bermondsey, Southwark\ngetting more and more densely crowded. But westward also begins the\nchain of commons which circle the town round the southern border--with\nbreaks, it is true, yet so nearly continuous that from the highest\npoint of one, the view almost ranges on to the next.\n\nOnly a deep valley, with Wickham Lane on the track of a Roman road,\ndivides Bostall Wood from Plumstead Common. This is open and breezy,\nstan"} -{"id": 339, "text": "ding high above what was in ancient times the marsh overflowed by\nthe Thames. The greater part is, however, used by the military, and the\ntrample of horse artillery makes it look like a desert. It is a curious\neffect to see this part of the Common in winter. It has probably been\nused for manœuvring all the week, and by Saturday afternoon there are\npools of mud, and ruts, and furrows, and hoofmarks all over it. On this\ndreary waste hundreds of boys and young men, sorted according to age,\nplay more or less serious football matches. The coats of the players,\nin four little heaps, do duty for goal-posts, and these are so thickly\nstrewn over the surface, and the players so closely mingled, that the\neffect is like bands of savages fighting among their slain--the ancient\nbarrow in the centre of the ground gives colour to the supposition.\n\nA sudden deep valley, called “the Slade,” cuts the Common in two. In\nthe hollow there are ponds, and on the high ground beyond stood a\nwindmill, the remains"} -{"id": 340, "text": " of which are embedded in the Windmill Tavern.\n\nThe next common west of Plumstead, is Woolwich, maintained by the War\nOffice and given up to military exercises. The extent is 159 acres.\nIt is so much absorbed by the requirements of the War Office that it\ncannot be classed among London’s playgrounds.\n\nGoing westward, the next large space is Blackheath, whose history is\nwrapped up with that of Greenwich, the beautiful Greenwich Park having\nonce been part of the Heath. It is high ground, for the most part bare\nof trees, and with roads intersecting it--one of them, the old Roman\nWatling Street. The wild, bare summit of the Heath was a dangerous\nplace for travellers, and many was the highway robbery committed there\nin times past. It is of very large extent, some 267 acres, and has been\neffectually preserved for public use, for some thirty-five years, since\nearly in the Seventies.\n\nThe Heath has played its part in history--gay scenes, such as when\nthe Mayor and aldermen of London flocked, wi"} -{"id": 341, "text": "th a great assemblage,\nto welcome Henry V. after the battle of Agincourt, or more ominous\nand hostile demonstrations, as when Wat Tyler collected his followers\nthere, or when Jack Cade, some seventy years later, did the same thing.\nA few fine old eighteenth-century houses still stand on the edge of\nthe Heath, and an avenue, “Chesterfield Walk,” perpetuates the name of\none of the distinguished residents. Morden College, at the south-east\ncorner of the Heath, is a fine old building of Wren’s design, founded\nby Sir John Morden, for merchants trading with the East who, through\nunforeseen accidents, had lost their fortunes.\n\nTo the west of Blackheath there was once a Deptford Common, but it\nhas long since been built over, and, with the exception of the small\nDeptford Park, there is a large district of dense population without\nany open space. The nearest is Hilly Fields on the south. This is a\nsteep, conical hill, with little beauty to recommend it, except its\nbreezy height, and views over c"} -{"id": 342, "text": "himney-pots to the Crystal Palace. A\nlarge, bleak-looking building, with a small enclosure on the highest\npoint--at present for sale--marked the West Kent Grammer School, does\nnot improve the appearance of this open space. There are some 45 acres\nof turf, and a line of old elms and another of twisted thorns show that\nthere were once hedgerows. There is some promiscuous planting of young\ntrees, and iron railings, and of course a band-stand; otherwise no\nparticular “beautifying” has been attempted since it was opened to the\npublic in 1896.\n\nIn the valley of the Ravensbourne, below the hill stretches the long,\nnarrow strip of the Ladywell Recreation Ground. It lies on either\nbank of the stream between Ladywell and Catford Bridge stations. It\nis intersected by railways, and the pathway passes sometimes over,\nsometimes under the lines, and constant trains whizz by. But in spite\nof such drawbacks, the place has a special attraction in the stream\nwhich meanders through the patches of grass de"} -{"id": 343, "text": "voted to games. Where\nthe stream has been untouched, and allowed to continue its course\nunmolested between iron railings, even the railings cannot destroy a\ncertain rural aspect it has retained. Alders and elms, with gnarled\nand twisted roots, lean over the banks, and hawthorns dip down towards\nthe rather swiftly flowing water. When the land was bought for public\nuse in 1889 the stream frequently overflowed its sandy banks, and\none or two necessary cuttings were made across some of the sharpest\ncurves, to allow a better flow of water. This has stopped all the\nobjectionable flooding, but the melancholy part is that, having been\nobliged to make these imperative but necessarily artificial cuttings,\nthe London County Council did not plant them with alders, thorns, and\nwillows, like the pretty, natural stream; but instead, the islands thus\nformed, and the banks, were dotted about with box and aucuba bushes.\nThe babbling stream seems to jeer at these poor sickly little black\nbushes, as if to"} -{"id": 344, "text": " say, “What is the good of bravely playing at being in\nthe country, and trying to make believe trout may jump from my ripples\nand water-ousels pop in and out of my banks, if you dreadful Cockneys\ndisfigure me like that?” Very likely it does not jar on the feelings\nof the inhabitants of Lewisham or Catford, but when public money is\nspent by way of improvement, it is cruel to mar and deform instead.\nWhere the churchyard of St. Mary’s, Lewisham, touches the stream is a\npretty spot, but, in places, untidy little back-gardens are the only\nadornment; but that is not the fault of the London County Council.\n\nPeckham Rye Common is more or less flat, without any special feature\nof interest, except at the southern end, which has been converted\ninto a Park. The Rye--what a quaint name it is! and there is no very\nsatisfactory derivation. It may either come from a stream of that name,\nlong since disappeared, or from a Celtic word, _rhyn_, a projecting\npiece of land--Peckham Rye, the village on the s"} -{"id": 345, "text": "pur of the hill, now\nknown as Forest Hill and Honor Oak. This “Rye” has been a place of\nrecreation from time immemorial, and at one time must have extended so\nas to embrace the smaller patches of common known as Nunhead Green (now\nblack asphalt), and Goose Green. The Common was secured by purchase\nfrom further encroachments in 1882.\n\nThe Park has much that savours of the country. An enclosure within\nit, is not open to the public, and for that very reason is one of the\nmost rural spots. There is a delightful public road across it, known\nas “the Avenue.” The old trees form an archway overhead, and on either\nside of the fence the wood is like a covert somewhere miles from\nLondon; brambles and fern and brushwood make shelter for pheasants,\nand squirrels run up the trees. The farm-house, and its out-buildings\nwith their moss-grown tiled roofs, have nothing suburban about them.\nThe front facing the Rye Common has a notice to say it is the Friern\nManor Dairy, but even that is not aggressive, "} -{"id": 346, "text": "as the name carries back\nthe history to the time of Henry I., when the manor was granted to\nthe Earl of Gloucester, and on till it was given by his descendants\nto the Priory of Halliwell, which held it until the church property\nwas taken by Henry VIII. and granted to Robert Draper, and so on\ntill modern days. There is, besides this attractive farm, a regular\npiece of laid-out garden, and a pond and well-planted flower-beds;\nbut the little walk among trees, beside a streamlet which has been\nformed into small cascades, and crossed by rustic bridges, is a more\noriginal conception, and is decidedly a success, and a good imitation\nof a woodland scene. The contrast is all the greater as Peckham is so\neminently prosaic, busy, and unpicturesque; the old houses having for\nthe most part given place to modern suburban edifices.\n\nDue west of Peckham lies Clapham, the largest of the South London\nCommons, 220 acres in extent; although, being flat and compact in\nshape, it does not appear larger than "} -{"id": 347, "text": "Tooting, which is really only\n10 acres less, but of more rambling shape. The Common has suffered\nmuch less than most of its neighbours from enclosures. It was shared\nbetween two manors, Battersea and Clapham, and the rival lords and\ncommonalities, each jealous of their own special rights, were more\ncareful to prevent encroachments than was often the case. At one time\nBattersea went so far as to dig a great ditch to prevent the cattle\nof the Clapham people coming into its part of the ground. The other\nparish resisted and filled up the ditch, and was sued for trespass\nby Battersea, which, however, lost its case--this ended in 1718. The\nCommon has an air of dignified respectability, and is still surrounded\nwith some solid old-fashioned houses, although modern innovations have\ndestroyed a great number of them. A nice old buttressed wall, over\nwhich ilex trees show their heads, and suggest possibilities of a shady\nlawn, carries one back to the time when Pepys retired to Clapham to\n“a very n"} -{"id": 348, "text": "oble house and sweete place, where he enjoyed the fruite of\nhis labour in great prosperity”; or to the days when Wilberforce lived\nthere, and he, together with the other workers in the same cause,\nClarkson, Granville Sharp, and Zachary Macaulay, used to meet at the\nhouse of John Thornton by the Common.\n\nThere is nothing wild now about the Common, and the numbers of paths\nwhich intersect it are edged by high iron railings, to prevent the\nentire wearing away of the grass. The beauty of the ground is its\ntrees. They proclaim it to be an old and honoured open space, and not\na modern creation. Only one tree has any pretentions to historical\ninterest, having been planted by the eldest son of Captain Cook the\nexplorer, but only a stump remains. The ponds are the distinctive\nfeature of the Common, and there are several of them dotted about, the\njoy of boys for bathing and boat-sailing. The origin of most of them\nhas been gravel pits dug in early days. There is the Cock Pond near the\nchurch, th"} -{"id": 349, "text": "e Long Pond, the Mount Pond, and the Eagle House Pond, some\nof them fairly large. The Mount Pond was at one time nearly lost to the\nCommon, as about 1748 a Mr. Henton Brown, who had a house close by, and\nwho kept a boat on the water, obtained leave to fence it in for his own\nprivate gratification. It was not until others followed Mr. Brown’s\nexample, and further encroachments began to frighten the parish, that\nit repented of having let in the thin end of the wedge. A committee was\nformed to watch over the interests of the Common lands, and took away\nMr. Brown’s privileges; but in spite of their vigilance other pieces\nwere from time to time taken away. A little group of houses by the\nWindmill Inn are on the site of one of these shavings off the area,\nfor a house called Windmill Place. The church was built on a corner of\nthe Common in 1774, and has a peaceful, solid, dignified appearance,\nstanding among fine old elms and away from the din of trams, which rush\nin all directions from the c"} -{"id": 350, "text": "orner hard by. It was built to replace an\nolder parish church, which was described as “a mean edifice, without\na steeple” by a writer of the eighteenth century, who admired the\n“elegant” one which took its place. The present generation would hardly\napply that epithet to the massive Georgian edifice, but it seems to\nsuit its surroundings: substantial and unostentatious, recalling\nmemories of the evangelical revival, it seems an essential part of the\nCommon and its history.\n\nAway to the south-west of Clapham lies Tooting (why does the very name\nsound comic, and invariably produce a laugh?), another Common, nearly\nas large, and much more wild and picturesque. Clapham is essentially\na town open space, like an overgrown village green; but on Tooting\nCommon one can successfully play at being in the country. The trees\nare quite patriarchal, and have nothing suburban about them, except\ntheir blackened stems. There are good spreading oaks and grand old\nelms, gnarled thorns, tangles of brambles,"} -{"id": 351, "text": " and golden gorse. The grass\ngrows long, with stretches of mossy turf, and has not the melancholy,\ndown-trodden appearance of Clapham or Peckham Rye.\n\nFine elm avenues overshadow the main roads, and no stiff paths with\niron rails, take away from the rural effect. Even the railway,\nwhich cuts across it in two directions, has only disfigured and not\ncompletely spoilt the park-like appearance. The disused gravel-pits,\nnow filled with water, have been enlarged since the London County\nCouncil had possession; and if only the banks could be left as wild\nand natural, as nature is willing to make them, they may be preserved\nfrom the inevitable stamp which marks every municipal park. The smaller\nholes, excavated by virtue of the former rights of digging gravel, and\nalready overgrown, assist rather than take away from the charms of the\nCommon.\n\nTooting Common consists of two parts, belonging to two ancient manors.\nThe smallest is Tooting Graveney, which derives its name from the De\nGravenelle fam"} -{"id": 352, "text": "ily, who held the manor soon after the Conquest, on\nthe payment of a rose yearly at the feast of St. John the Baptist.\nThe larger half, Tooting Beck, takes its name from the Abbey of Bec\nin Normandy, which was in possession of the Manor from Domesday till\n1414, when it came to the Crown. Both manors can be traced through\nsuccessive owners until the rights were purchased in 1875 and 1873 by\nthe Metropolitan Board of Works. The avenue of elms which runs right\nacross the Common divides the two. Tooting Beck is more than twice\nthe size of Graveney, and has the finest trees. One of the oldest elm\ntrees, now encircled by a railing, was completely hollow, but now has\na young poplar sprouting out of its shell. Tradition associates this\ntree particularly with Dr. Johnson, and though he did not compose his\nDictionary under it, it is more than likely he often enjoyed the shade\nof what must have been a very old tree in his day. For fifteen years\nhe was a constant visitor at Thrale Place close by. "} -{"id": 353, "text": "“He frequently\nresided here,” says a contemporary guide-book, “and experienced that\nsincere respect to which his virtues and talents were entitled,\nand those soothing attentions which his ill-health and melancholy\ndemanded.” The house stood in 100 acres of ground between Tooting and\nStreatham Commons, and has since been pulled down and built over.\nDuring these years, no doubt, Tooting as well as Streatham Common was\noften trodden by the brilliant circle who drank tea and conversed with\nthe accomplished Mrs. Thrale--Sir Joshua Reynolds, Burke, Garrick,\nGoldsmith--to all of them the woodland scenes of both Commons were\nfamiliar.\n\nTo prevent the too free use of the turf by riders, a special track has\nbeen made for them, skirting the Common, and passing down one of the\nfinest avenues. It may save the grass from being too much cut up, but\nto those who don’t feel called to gallop across the Common, the loss\nof the green sward under the tall feathery elms is a cause of regret.\nIt is such, per"} -{"id": 354, "text": "haps necessary, alterations which spoil the delusion of\ngenuine country, otherwise so well counterfeited on Tooting Common. A\ncharming time is when the may is out and the gorse ablaze with bloom,\nthe chestnuts in blossom, and birds are singing all around; or if one\nhappens to be there on a winter’s day, when it is too cold for loungers\nor holiday-makers, there are moments when the nearness of streets and\ntrams could be forgotten. The frosty air, and dew-drops on the vivid\ngreen grass, the brown of the fallen leaves, the dark stems clear\nagainst an amber sky, with the intense blue distance, which London\natmosphere produces so readily, combine harmoniously into a telling\npicture, which remains photographed “upon that inward eye, which is the\ngift of solitude.” The dream is as quickly dispelled. A sight, a sound,\nrecalls the nearness of London, which makes its presence felt even when\none is trying to play Hide-and-seek with the chimney-pots. How well\nRichard Jefferies, that inimitable wri"} -{"id": 355, "text": "ter on nature, describes his\nfeelings in the neighbourhood of London, in spots only a little further\nfrom Hyde Park Corner than Tooting Beck:--\n\n“Though my preconceived ideas were overthrown by the presence of so\nmuch that was beautiful and interesting close to London, yet in course\nof time I came to understand what was at first a dim sense of something\nwanting. In the shadiest lane, in the still pine-woods, on the hills of\npurple heather, after brief contemplation there arose a restlessness,\na feeling that it was essential to be moving. In no grassy mead was\nthere a nook where I could stretch myself in slumbrous ease and\nwatch the swallows ever wheeling, wheeling in the sky. This was the\nunseen influence of mighty London. The strong life of the vast city\nmagnetised me, and I felt it under the calm oaks.”\n\nThe most remote of London open spaces in this direction is Streatham,\nto the south-east of Tooting, close to Norwood, and on the very\nextremity of the County of London. Much smaller "} -{"id": 356, "text": "than the other commons,\nit possesses attractions of its own. It is less spoilt by modern\nbuildings than any of these once country villages, but ominous boards\nforetell the rapid advance of the red-brick villa. The houses which\nnow overlook the upper part are substantial, in the solid, simple\nstyle of the eighteenth century, In those days Streatham possessed a\nmineral spring, and for a few years people flocked to drink at it. But\nlong before the end of the eighteenth century other more fashionable\nwatering-places had supplanted it, and in 1792 Streatham is described\nas “once frequented for its medicinal waters.” The spring was in the\ngrounds afterwards belonging to a house called the Rookery, and near\nthe house called Wellfield, on the southern side of the Common. The\nwaters were said to be so strong that three glasses of Streatham were\nequivalent to nine of Epsom. Although so near London, the journey\nto the springs presented some dangers, as this was one of the most\nnoted localities fo"} -{"id": 357, "text": "r footpads and highwaymen. The woods of Norwood,\nwhich came close to the Common, afforded covert and an easy means of\nescape. This road from London, which went on to Croydon and Brighton,\nhad such a bad reputation that the risk of an adventure must have\ncounterbalanced some of the health-giving properties to any nervous\ninvalid! The lower part of the Common, near the road, is flat and open,\nand not particularly inviting. The charms of the top of the hill are\nall the more delightful, as they come as a surprise. There are fine\nold trees, and a wealth of fern, thorns, and bramble, and the short\ngrass is exchanged for springy turf the moment the crest of the steep\nhill is reached. But by far the greatest surprise is the glorious view.\nAway and away over soft, hazy, blue country the eye can reach. It may\nor may not be true that Woolwich, Windsor, and Stanmore can be seen:\nnobody will care who gazes over that wide stretch of country bathed\nin a mysterious light, perhaps with the rays of the "} -{"id": 358, "text": "sun, like golden\npathways from heaven, carrying the thoughts far from the prosaic villas\nor harrowing slums concealed at one’s feet. Only the wide expanse and\nthe waving bracken and tangled brushwood fill the picture--while one\nrejoices that such a beautiful scene should be within the reach of so\nmany of London’s toilers.\n\nWandsworth is among the least beautiful and the most cut-up of the\ncommons. Large and straggling in extent, it has been so much encroached\nupon that roads, and houses, and railways cross it. It is narrowed to\na strip in places, and all the wildness and all the old trees have\ngone. Some young avenues by the main road have been planted, and no\nmore curtailments can be perpetrated, as it was acquired for the use\nof the public in 1871. For many years the encroachments had roused the\ninhabitants, and about 1760 a species of club was formed to protect\nthe rights of the commoners. When enclosures took place, the members\nall subscribed and went to law, and often won their ca"} -{"id": 359, "text": "ses. The head\nwas called the “Mayor of Garratt,” from Garratt Lane, near the Common,\nwhere a “ridiculous mock election” was held. A mob collected, and\nencouraged by Foote, Wilkes, and others, witty speeches were made.\nFoote wrote a farce called “The Mayor of Garratt,” which for some time\ngave the ceremony no small celebrity. The rowdyism becoming serious\nat the sham elections, they were suppressed in 1796. When the Common\nwas eventually saved, it was in a bad and untidy state: quantities of\ngravel had been dug, and holes, some of them filled with water, were a\ndanger; the trees had all disappeared, and the whole surface was bare\nand muddy. It has improved since then, but there is nothing picturesque\nleft. The “Three Island Pond,” which is supposed to be its greatest\nbeauty, is stiff, formal, and new-looking, with a few straggly trees\ngrowing up. Still it is safely preserved as an open space, and makes a\ngood recreation ground.\n\nAll round London, besides the larger commons, smaller gree"} -{"id": 360, "text": "ns are to be\nfound, which are survivals of the old village greens. They recall the\ntime when London was a walled city, and thickly scattered round it were\nthe little hamlets which have now been absorbed by the ever-growing,\nmonster town.\n\nThere is little that is distinctive about them. For the most part they\nare simply open spaces of well-worn turf without trees. Shepherd’s Bush\nis one of these. Brook Green, in Hammersmith, not very far from it, has\nthe remains of a few fine elm trees. In Fulham there are Parson’s Green\nand Eel Brook Common. Away in South London, Goose Green and Nunhead\nGreen are other examples where grass is even more inconspicuous.\n\n[Illustration: STATUE OF MRS. SIDDONS, PADDINGTON GREEN]\n\nOn the north lies Paddington Green, which is small in extent, but close\nto the large graveyard turned into a public garden. In the centre of\nthe Green a statue to Mrs. Siddons, by Chevaliand, was erected in\n1897, as she lived in the neighbourhood when Paddington was still\nrural. Th"} -{"id": 361, "text": "ere is nothing beautiful about the asphalt paths between\nhigh iron railings surrounding the small space of grass and trees.\nSome of the other greens are more of the ordinary public garden type.\nIslington Green has been planted with trees, and outside the railings\nstands a statue of Sir Hugh Myddelton, who died in 1631, representing\nhim holding a plan of the New River. Stepney was once a very large\ngreen, and has still 3¼ acres of garden cut up into four sections. Some\nquaint old houses, wood with tiled roofs, and good seventeenth-century\nbrick ones, still overlook the gardens. The gardens have been made\nexactly like every other, with a slightly serpentine path, a border\nrunning parallel in irregular curves not following the line of the\npath, and trees dotted about. One really fine, thick-stemmed laburnum\nshows how well that tree will do in smoke, and some curious old wooden\nwater-pipes dug up in 1890, dating from 1570, are placed at intervals\nin the grass.\n\nCamberwell has one of the la"} -{"id": 362, "text": "rge village greens of South London, and has\nbeen made into a satisfactory garden. All the trams seem to meet there,\nbut in spite of the din it is a pleasant garden in which to rest.\nThe 2½ acres are well laid out, and the clipped lime-trees round the\nrailings are a protection from the street which other places would do\nwell to copy. When the trees are in leaf the garden is partially hidden\neven from those on the tops of omnibuses.\n\nThese greens scattered round London help to connect the larger areas,\nthus forming links in the chain of open spaces which encircles London.\nThese natural recreation grounds are the admiration of all foreigners,\nand a priceless boon to the citizens, ensuring the preservation of\ngreen grass and green trees to refresh their fog-dimmed eyes, at no\ngreat distance from the throng of city life.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nSQUARES\n\n _Fountains and Trees our wearied Pride do please,\n Even in the midst of Gilded Palaces;\n And in our Towns, that Prospect gives Deli"} -{"id": 363, "text": "ght,\n Which opens round the Country to our Sight._\n\n --Lines in a Letter from SPRAT to SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN\n on the Translation of Horace.\n\n\nNothing is more essentially characteristic of London than its squares.\nThey have no exact counterpart in any foreign city. The iron railings,\nthe enclosure of dusty bushes and lofty trees, with wood-pigeons and\ntwittering sparrows, have little in common with, say for instance, the\nPlace Vendôme in Paris, or the Grand’ Place in Brussels, or Madison\nSquare, New York. The vicissitudes of some of the London Squares would\nfill a volume, but most of them have had much the same origin. They\nhave been built with residential houses surrounding them, and though\nsome have changed to shops, and in others the houses are dilapidated\nand forsaken by the wealthier classes, nearly every one has had its day\nof popularity.\n\nIn some of those now deserted by the world of fashion, the gardens have\nbeen opened to the public, but by far the"} -{"id": 364, "text": " greater number of squares\nare maintained by the residents in their neighbourhood, who have keys\nto the gardens. But even though they are kept outside the railings\nthe rest of the public receive a benefit from these air spaces and\noxygen-exhaling trees. Sometimes the public get more direct advantage,\nas in such cases as Eaton Square, where seats are placed down the\ncentre on the pavement under the shade of the trees inside the rails,\nand are much frequented in hot weather; or in Lower Grosvenor Gardens,\nwhich are open for six weeks in the autumn, when most of the residents\nin the houses are absent.\n\nSquares are dotted about nearly all over London, but they can, for the\nmost part, be grouped together. There are the older ones, of different\nsizes, and varying in their modern conditions. Among such are Lincoln’s\nInn Fields, Charterhouse, Soho, Golden, Leicester, and St. James’s\nSquares. Then there is the large Bloomsbury group, and further westward\nthe chain of squares begins with Cavendi"} -{"id": 365, "text": "sh, Manchester, Portman, on the\nnorth, and Hanover and Grosvenor to the south of Oxford Street. Then\nfollow the later continuations of the sequence--Bryanston, Montagu, and\nso on to Ladbroke Square, nearly to Shepherd’s Bush. To the south of\nthe Park lies the Belgravia group, with more and more modern additions\nstretching westward till they join the old village of Kensington, with\ndignified squares of its own, or till their further multiplication is\nchecked by the River.\n\nTo describe most of these squares would imply a vast amount of vain\nrepetition. Few have anything original either in design or planting.\nThe majority have elms and planes mixed with ailanthus, while aucubas,\neuonymous, and straggling privet form the staple product of the\nencircling borders, with a pleasant admixture of lilac and laburnum,\nand generally a good supply of iris facing the gravel pathway. A few\nannuals and bedding-out plants brighten the borders in summer, and\nsome can boast of one or two ferns. Occasional"} -{"id": 366, "text": "ly the luxury of a\nsummer-house is indulged in, and here and there a weeping ash has been\nventured upon by way of shelter; a secluded walk or seat is practically\nunknown. The older gardens have some large trees, and the turf in all\nof them is good, and when it is with “daisies pied” it forms the chief\ndelight of the children who play there. It may be that the distance\nof Notting Hill Gate from the smoke of the East End has encouraged\nmore enterprise in gardening; certainly the result of the planting in\nLadbroke Square is satisfactory. Several healthy young oaks are growing\nup; and a fountain and small piece of formal gardening round it, on\nthe highest point of the long, sloping lawn, is effective. In the\nolder squares, such as Grosvenor Square, the bushes are high, and the\nopenings so well arranged that the lawns in the centre are perfectly\nprivate, and hidden from the streets. In the less ancient ones, such as\nEccleston and Warwick, Connaught and Montagu Squares, the long, narrow\nstri"} -{"id": 367, "text": "p leaves little scope for variation.\n\nAn innovation of the usual square is to be seen in Duke Street,\nGrosvenor Square. This small square, which was laid out as a garden\nwith sheltered seats, was made when the new red-brick dwellings\nreplaced the smaller and more crowded houses. The middle is now the\ndistributing centre of an electric power-station, but the roof is low\nand flat, and has been successfully transformed into a formal garden,\nwith trees in tubs and boxes of flowers.\n\n[Illustration: WINTER GARDEN, DUKE STREET, GROSVENOR SQUARE]\n\nSome of the squares have finer trees than others, and in many a statue\nis a feature. Originally these statues formed the central object\ntowards which the garden paths converged, but most of the central\nstatues have been moved, though in a few, like St. James’s and Golden\nSquares, they are still in the middle. These statues were evidently a\ngood deal thought of by Londoners, but they did not strike foreigners\nas very good. In one of Mirabeau’s letters"} -{"id": 368, "text": " he writes in 1784 from\nLondon: “The public monuments in honour of Sovereigns, reflect little\nhonour on English Sculpture.... The Statues of the last Kings, which\nadorn the Squares in the new quarters of London, being cast in\nbrass or copper, have nothing remarkable in them but their lustre; they\nare doubtless kept in repair, cleaned and rubbed with as much care as\nthe larger knockers at gentlemen’s doors, which are of similar metal.”\nThe usual plan now is to place the statue facing the street, where a\nbackground of green shows it off to the passer-by. Thus Lord George\nBentinck is prominent in Cavendish Square, from which the equestrian\ncentral statue of the Duke of Cumberland has gone; and from Hanover\nSquare, built about the same time as Cavendish (between 1717–20),\nChantrey’s statue of Pitt gazes down towards St. George’s Church. In\nGrosvenor Square no statue has replaced the central one of George I. by\nVon Nost, which was placed there in 1726, and is described by Maitland\nas a “sta"} -{"id": 369, "text": "tely gilt equestrian statue.” This Square is older than the\ntwo last mentioned, having been built in 1695. In those days each of\nthe spacious houses had its large garden at the back, with a view of\nthe country away to Hampstead and Highgate. The garden was designed\nby Kent, but a plan of it about 1750 shows a considerable difference\nbetween the arrangements then and now, although some details are the\nsame. The raised square of grass in the centre where the statue stood\nhas now a large, octagonal, covered seat, apparently formed with the\nold pedestal. The walk round and the four wide paths to the centre are\nretained, but the smaller intersecting paths are replaced by lawns\non which grow some fine old elms. The railings with stone piers and\nhandsome gates, shown in the engraving, have given place to much less\nornamental iron rails.\n\n[Illustration: STATUE OF PITT, HANOVER SQUARE]\n\nManchester Square is of later date. It was an open space approached by\nshady lanes from Cavendish Square for "} -{"id": 370, "text": "some fifty years after that was\nbuilt. The houses in Manchester Square were not begun till 1776--some\nten years after the commencement of Portman Square. This district was\nall very semi-rural and unfinished until much later. Southey, in a\nletter, writes of Portman Square as “on the outskirts of the town,” and\napproached “on one side by a road, unlit, unpaved, and inaccessible by\ncarriages.” The large corner house, now occupied by Lord Portman, was\nbuilt for Mrs. Montagu, “Queen of the Blue Stockings,” and during her\ntime “Montagu House” was the salon to which the literary celebrities\nof the day flocked. When Mrs. Montagu moved there from Hill Street\nshe wrote to a friend, “My health has not been interrupted by the\nbad weather we have had; I believe Portman Square is the Montpellier\nof England.” In the centre of the Square garden was planted a\n“wilderness,” after the fashion of the day, and early in the nineteenth\ncentury, when the Turkish Ambassador resided in the Square, he erected\na "} -{"id": 371, "text": "kiosk in this “wilderness,” where he used to smoke and imagine\nhimself in a perfumed garden of the East. It is still one of the best\nkept-up of the squares.\n\nBerkeley Square dates from nearly the same time as Grosvenor, having\nbeen begun in 1698, on the site of the extensive gardens of Berkeley\nHouse, which John Evelyn so much admired, and where flourished the\nholly hedges of which he advised the planting. The central statue here\nwas one by Beaupré and Wilton of George III., which was removed in\n1827, and the base of the statue made into a summer-house. In the place\nof the usual statesman, a drinking fountain, with a figure pouring\nthe water--the gift of the Marquess of Lansdowne--has been placed\noutside the rails at the southern end. The plane trees are very fine,\nand were planted at the end of the eighteenth century, it is said,\nby Mr. Edward Bouverie in 1789. The plane has been so long grown in\nLondon these cannot be said with certainty to be the oldest, as is\nso often stated. Some "} -{"id": 372, "text": "in Lincoln’s Inn Fields are decidedly larger.\nIn 1722 Fairchild writes in praise of the plane trees, about 40 feet\nhigh, in the churchyard of St. Dunstan-in-the-East. Loudon mentions\none at the Physic Garden, planted by Philip Miller, which was 115 feet\nhigh in 1837 (a western Plane--not the great oriental Plane which fell\ndown a few years ago). The western Plane (_Platinus occidentalis_)\nwas introduced to this country many years after the eastern Plane\n(_Platinus orientalis_). The tree most common in town is a variety of\neastern Plane called _accrifolia_, known as the “London Plane”: this\nmust have been a good deal planted all through the eighteenth century,\nso it is difficult to assign to any actual tree the priority.\n\nSt. James’s Square is older than any of the squares already glanced\nat, having been built in the time of Charles II. It was known as Pall\nMall Field or Close, originally part of St. James’s Fields, and the\nactual site of the Square was a meadow used by those attached t"} -{"id": 373, "text": "o the\nCourt as a sort of recreation ground. Henry Jermyn, Earl of St. Albans,\nleased it in 1665 from Charles II., and began to plan the Square or\n“Piazza,” as it was called at first. The deadly year of the Plague,\nfollowed by the Great Fire, delayed the building, and the houses were\nnot finished and lived in till 1676. No. 6 in the Square, belonging to\nthe Marquess of Bristol, has been in his family since that time. Every\none of the fine old houses has its story of history and romance. Here\nCharles II. was frequently seen visiting Moll Davis, Sir Cyril Wyche,\nand the Earl of Ranelagh. The Earl of Romney, and the Duke of Ormond,\nand Count Tallard the French Ambassador, are names connected with the\nSquare in William III.’s time, and Josiah Wedgwood lived at No. 7. But\nthese and many other historical personages did not look from their\nwindows on to a well-ordered garden, and the Court beauties did not\nwander with their admirers under the spreading trees. The centre of the\nSquare was left "} -{"id": 374, "text": "open, and merely like a field. The chief use to which\nthe space seems to have been put was for displays of fireworks. One\nof the great occasions for these was after the Peace of Ryswick, but\nunfortunately they were not always very successful. An eye-witness,\nwriting to Sir Christopher Hatton, says of Sir Martin Beckman, who\nhad the management of them, that he “hath got the curses of a good\nmany and the praises of nobody.” The open space eventually became so\nuntidy that the residents in 1726 petitioned Parliament to allow them\nto levy a special rate to “cleanse, adorn, and beautify the Square,”\nas “the ground hath for some years past lain, and doth now lie, rude\nand in great disorder, contrary to the design of King Charles II., who\ngranted the soil for erecting capital buildings.” So badly used was\nit that even a coach-builder had erected a shed in the middle of it,\nin which to store his timber. Strong measures were taken, and any one\n“annoying the Square” after May 1, 1726, was to be f"} -{"id": 375, "text": "ined 20s., and any\none encroaching on it, £50. No hackney coach was allowed to ply there,\nand unless a coachman, after setting down his fare, immediately drove\nout of the Square, he was to be fined 10s. The whole place was levelled\nand paved, and a round basin of water, which was intended to have a\nfountain in it, and never did, was dug in the centre. Round it ran an\noctagon railing with stone obelisks, surmounted with lamps at each\nangle. A road of flat paving-stones with posts went round the Square in\nfront of the houses; the rest was paved with cobble stones. As early\nas 1697 it was proposed to place a statue of William III., and figures\nemblematical of his victories, in the Square, but nothing was done. In\n1721 the Chevalier de David tried to get up a subscription for a sum of\n£2500 for a statute of George I. to be done by himself and set up, but,\nas he only collected £100 towards it, that scheme also fell through.\nOnce more an effort was made which bore tardy fruit, for in 1724 Sa"} -{"id": 376, "text": "muel\nTravers bequeathed a sum of money by will “to purchase and erect an\nequestrian statue in brass to the glorious memory of my master, King\nWilliam III.” Somehow this was not carried out at the time, but in 1806\nthe money appeared in a list of unclaimed dividends, and John Bacon the\nyounger was given the commission to model the statue, which was cast\nin bronze at the artist’s own studio in Newman Street, and put up in\nthe centre of the pond. Thus it remained until towards the middle of\nlast century the stagnant pool was drained. In the 1780 riots the mob\ncarried off the keys of Newgate and flung them into this basin, where\nyears afterwards they were found. It was 150 feet in diameter, and 6 or\n7 feet deep. When the pond was drained, the garden was planted in the\nform it now is, and the statue left standing in the centre. St. James’s\nis still one of the finest residential squares in London, and the old\nrhyme, picturing the attractions in store for the lady of quality who\nbecame a duch"} -{"id": 377, "text": "ess and lived in the Square, might have been written in\nthe twentieth instead of the eighteenth century.\n\n “She shall have all that’s fine and fair,\n And the best of silk and satin shall wear;\n And ride in a coach to take the air,\n And have a house in St. James’s Square.”\n\n[Illustration: STATUE OF WILLIAM III. IN ST. JAMES’S SQUARE]\n\nLess cheerful has been the fate of Golden Square, which has a forsaken\nlook, and the days when it may have justified its name are past.\nOriginally Gelding Square, from the name of an inn hard by, the\ngrander-sounding and more attractive corruption supplanted the older\nname. Another derivation for the word is also given--“Golding,” from\nthe name of the first builder; but anyhow it was called Golden Square\nsoon after it came into being. The houses round it were built about\nthe opening years of the eighteenth century, when the dismal memories\nof the Plague were growing faint. For the site of Golden Square, “far\nfrom the haunts of men,” was "} -{"id": 378, "text": "one of the spots where, during the Plague,\nthousands of dead were cast, by scores every night. These gloomy\nscenes forgotten, the Square was built, and at one time fashionable\nLord Bolingbroke lived here, while Secretary for War. It is still “not\nexactly in anybody’s way, to or from anywhere.” The garden is neat,\nwith a row of trees round the Square enclosure, and a path following\nthe same lines. In the centre stands a statue of George II., looking\nthoroughly out of place, like a dilapidated Roman emperor. It was\nbought from Canons, the Duke of Chandos’s house, near Edgware, when\nthe house was pulled down and everything sold in 1747. There are a\nfew seats, but they are rarely used, and it has a very quiet and\ndreary aspect when compared with the cheerful crowds enjoying the\ngardens in its larger neighbour, Leicester Square. This was known as\nLeicester Fields, and was traversed by two rows of elm trees; and even\nafter the houses round it were begun, about 1635, the name of Fields\nclung "} -{"id": 379, "text": "to it. The ground was part of the Lammas Lands belonging to\nthe parish of St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields, and Robert Sydney, Earl of\nLeicester, who built the house from which the Square takes its name,\npaid compensation for the land, to the poor of the parish £3 yearly.\nThe house occupied the north-east corner of the Square, and in after\nyears became famous as a royal residence. It has been called “the\npouting-place” of princes, as it was to Leicester House that the Prince\nof Wales retired when he quarrelled with his father, George I.; and\nthere Caroline the Illustrious gathered all the dissatisfied courtiers,\nand such wit and beauty as could be found, round her. When he became\nGeorge II., and quarrelled in his turn with his son, Frederick, Prince\nof Wales, the latter came to live in Leicester House. The statue of\nGeorge I. which stood in the centre of the garden was, it was said,\nput up by Frederick, with the express purpose of annoying his father.\nA view of the Square in 1700, shows a ne"} -{"id": 380, "text": "atly-kept square garden with\nfour straight walks, and trees at even distances, and Leicester House\nstanding back, with a forecourt and large entrance gates, and a garden\nof its own with lawns and statues at the back. Savile House, next door\nto Leicester House, on the site of the present Empire Theatre, was\nalso the scene of many interesting incidents, until it was practically\ndestroyed during the Gordon Riots. The list of great names connected\nwith the Square is too long to recite, but four of the greatest are\ncommemorated by the four busts in the modern garden--Sir Joshua\nReynolds, Hogarth, John Hunter, the eminent surgeon, and Sir Isaac\nNewton. But before these monuments were erected Leicester Square Garden\nhad gone through a period of decay. It was left unkept up and uncared\nfor; the gilt statue was tumbling to pieces, and was only propped up\nwith wooden posts. The garden from 1851 for ten years, was used to\nexhibit the Great Globe of Wylde, the geographer, who leased the space\nfrom"} -{"id": 381, "text": " the Tulk family, then the owners of the land. Leicester House,\nafter it ceased to be a royal residence, was in the hands of Sir Ashton\nLever, who turned it into a museum, which was open from 1771 to 1784,\nbut failed to obtain much popularity. The collection was dispersed,\nand soon after the house was pulled down and the site built over, and\nthe Square was allowed to get more and more untidy. Several efforts\nwere made to purchase it for the public, but the price asked was\nprohibitive, as the owners wished to build on it. When, however, after\nmuch litigation, the Court of Appeal decided it could not be built on,\nbut must be maintained as an open space, they were more ready to come\nto terms. A generous purchaser came forward, Mr. Albert (afterwards\nBaron) Grant, who bought the land, laid it out as a garden, and\npresented it to the public, to be kept up by the Metropolitan Board of\nWorks. The plans for the newly-restored garden, were made for Mr. Grant\nby Mr. James Knowles, and the planti"} -{"id": 382, "text": "ng done by Mr. John Gibson, who\nwas then occupied with the sub-tropical garden in Battersea Park. The\nstatue of Shakespeare in the centre, and the four busts, were also the\ngift of the same public benefactor, who presented the Square complete,\nwith trees, statues, railings, and seats, in 1874.\n\nSoho Square was another of the fashionable squares of London, now\ngloomy and deserted by its former aristocratic residents. The gardens\nare kept up for the benefit of those living in the Square only, and are\nnot enjoyed by the masses, like Leicester Square. Maitland describes\nthe building and consecration of St. Anne’s, Soho, or, as he calls\nit, St. Anne’s, Westminster, which was in 1685 separated from St.\nMartin’s-in-the-Fields, and a new parish created, just in the same way\nas scores of parishes have to be treated nowadays, to meet the needs\nof the much more rapidly-growing population. Of the new parish, he\nsays the only remarkable things were “its beautiful streets, spacious\nand handsome Chur"} -{"id": 383, "text": "ch, and stately Quadrate, denominated King’s-Square,\nbut vulgarly Soho-Square.” Various suggestions have been made as to\nthe origin of the name, and the most popular explanation is that it\nwas a hunting-cry used in hunting hares, which sport was indulged in\nover these fields. The word Soho occurs in the parish registers as\nearly as 1632. When first built the Square was called King Square,\nfrom Geoffrey King, who surveyed it, not after King Charles II. But\nthe old name of the fields became for ever attached to the Square,\nto the entire exclusion of the more modern one, after the battle of\nSedgemoor. Monmouth’s supporters on that occasion took the word Soho\nfor their watchword, from the fact that Monmouth lived in the Square.\nIn 1690 John Evelyn notes that he went with his family “to winter at\nSoho in the Great Square.” Monmouth House was built by Wren, when the\nSquare was begun in 1681, and it was pulled down, to make room for\nsmaller houses on the south side of the Square, in 1773. The"} -{"id": 384, "text": "re are\nsome fine old trees in the garden, and a statue of Charles II. used,\ntill the middle of last century, like the one in St. James’s Square,\nto stand in a basin of water, with figures round it, emblematic of the\nrivers Thames, Severn, Tyne, and Humber, spouting water. Nollekens, the\nsculptor, who was born in 28 Dean Street, Soho, in 1738, recalled how\nhe stood as a boy “for hours together to see the water run out of the\njug of the old river-gods in the basin in the middle of the Square, but\nthe water never would run out of their jugs but when the windmill was\ngoing round at the top of Rathbone Place.” The centre of the Square was\nin 1748 “new made and inclosed with iron railings on a stone kirb,”\nand “eight lamp Irons 3 ft. 6 in. high above the spikes in each of the\nEight corner Angles”: the “Channell all round the Square” was paved\nwith “good new Kentish Ragg stones.”\n\nBeyond Oxford Street are collected a great number of squares in the\ndistrict of Bloomsbury. They are all surround"} -{"id": 385, "text": "ed by solid, well-built\nhouses, which seem to hold their own with dignity, even though fashion\nhas moved away from them westward. Before the squares arose, this\nwas the site of two great palaces with their gardens. One of them,\nSouthampton House, afterwards known as Bedford or Russell House, was\nwhere Bloomsbury Square now is. In 1665, February 9, Evelyn notes\nthat he “dined at my Lord Treasurer’s the Earl of Southampton, in\nBloomsbury, where he was building a noble square or piazza, a little\ntown; his own house stands too low--some noble rooms, a pretty cedar\nchapel, a naked garden to the North, but good air.” This house was\npulled down in 1800, and Russell Square was built on the garden. Both\nBloomsbury, or Southampton Square, as it was sometimes called, and\nRussell Square have good trees, and in each garden there is a statue by\nWestmacott. Charles James Fox, seated in classical drapery, erected in\n1816, looks down Bedford Place, where stood Southampton House, towards\nthe larger stat"} -{"id": 386, "text": "ue, with elaborate pedestal and cupids, of Francis, Duke\nof Bedford, in Russell Square. This is one of London’s largest Squares,\nbeing only about 140 feet smaller than Lincoln’s Inn Fields, and\nincluded most of the garden of Southampton House, with its fine limes,\nand a large locust-tree, _Robinia pseudo acacia_.\n\nThe laying out is more original in design than most of the squares,\nhaving been done by Repton in 1810. In Repton’s book on Landscape\nGardening he goes fully into his reasons for the design of Russell\nSquare. “The ground,�� he said, “had all been brought to one level\nplain at too great expense to admit of its being altered.” He approves\nof the novel plan of placing the statue at the edge instead of in\nthe usual position in the centre of the Square. “To screen the broad\ngravel-walk from the street, a compact hedge is intended to be kept\nclipt to about six feet high; this, composed of privet and hornbeam,\nwill become almost as impervious as a hedge of laurels, or other\nevergreen"} -{"id": 387, "text": "s, which will not succeed in a London atmosphere.” He says he\nhas not “clothed the lawn” with plantation, so that children playing\nthere could be seen from the windows, to meet “the particular wishes\nof some mothers.” “The outline of this area is formed by a walk under\ntwo rows of lime-trees, regularly planted at equal distances, not in\na perfect circle, but finishing towards the statue in two straight\nlines.” He imagines that fanciful advocates of landscape gardening will\nobject to this as too formal, and be “further shocked” by learning that\nhe hoped they would be kept cut and trimmed. Within were to be “groves\nin one quarter of the area, the other three enriched with flowers and\nshrubs, each disposed in a different manner, to indulge the various\ntastes for regular or irregular gardens.” He ends his description\nby saying: “A few years hence, when the present patches of shrubs\nshall have become thickets--when the present meagre rows of trees\nshall have become an umbrageous avenue--and"} -{"id": 388, "text": " the children now in their\nnurses’ arms shall have become the parents or grand-sires of future\ngenerations--this square may serve to record, that the Art of Landscape\nGardening in the beginning of the nineteenth century was not directed\nby whim or caprice, but founded on a due consideration of utility as\nwell as beauty, without a bigoted adherence to forms and lines, whether\nstraight, or crooked, or serpentine.”\n\nRepton always put forth his ideas in high-sounding language, often not\nso well justified as in the present case. The lime-trees have been\nallowed to grow taller than he desired, and yet are not fine trees\nfrom having at one period been kept trimmed; but they certainly form\nan attractive addition to the usual design, and looking at them, after\nnearly a hundred years, from the outside, where they form a background\nto the statue, the effect in summer is very attractive.\n\nBedford Square is on the gardens of the other great house--Montagu\nHouse, built by the Duke of Montagu. Evelyn"} -{"id": 389, "text": " also notes going to see\nthat. In 1676, “I dined,” he says, “with Mr. Charleton and went to see\nMr. Montagu’s new palace near Bloomsbury, built by Mr. Hooke of our\nSociety [the Royal] after the French manner.” This house was burnt down\nten years later, and rebuilt with equal magnificence; but when the\nDuke moved to Montagu House, Whitehall, in 1757, it became the home\nof the British Museum. The old house was pulled down and the present\nbuilding erected in 1845. The Square was laid out at the end of the\neighteenth century on the gardens and the open fields of the parish\nof St. Giles-in-the-Fields beyond. Lord Loughborough lived in No. 6,\nand after him Lord Eldon from 1804 to 1815. At the time of the Gordon\nRiots in 1780, when Lord Mansfield’s house was plundered, troops were\nstationed near, and a camp formed in the garden of the British Museum.\nThat garden was also of use when, in March 1815, Lord Eldon’s house in\nBedford Square was attacked by a mob, and he was forced to make his\nescap"} -{"id": 390, "text": "e out of the back into the Museum garden.\n\nOf Queen’s Square, built in Queen Anne’s time, but containing a statue\nof Queen Charlotte, and all the other squares of this district there\nis little of special interest to record directly connected with their\ngardens. They all have good trees, and are kept up much in the same\nstyle.\n\nRed Lion Square is an exception. It has a longer history, and now\nits garden differs from the rest, as it is open to the public, and\na great boon in this crowded district. It takes its name from a Red\nLion Inn, which stood in the fields long before any other houses had\ngrown up near it. It was to this inn that the bodies of the regicides\nCromwell, Ireton, and Bradshaw were carried, when they were exhumed\nfrom Westminster Abbey and taken, with all the horrible indignities\nmeted out to traitors, to Tyburn. A tradition, probably without\nfoundation, was for long current that a rough stone obelisk, which\nstood afterwards in the Square, marked the spot where Cromwell’s"} -{"id": 391, "text": " body\nwas buried by friends who rescued the remains from the scaffold. The\nhouses were built round it at the end of the seventeenth century, but\nthe space in the middle seems, like all other squares at this time,\nto have been more or less a rubbish heap, and a resort of “vagabonds\nand other disorderly persons.” In 1737 the inhabitants got an Act of\nParliament to allow them to levy a rate to keep the Square in order. A\ncontemporary, in praising this determination to beautify the Square,\n“which had run much to decay,” hopes that “Leicester Fields and Golden\nSquare will soon follow these good examples.” The “beautifying”\nconsisted in setting up a railing round it, with watch-houses at the\ncorners, while the obelisk rose in the centre out of the rank grass.\n\nThe present garden, when first opened to the public, was managed by\nthe Metropolitan Gardens Association, but since 1895 the London County\nCouncil have looked after it; the inhabitants having made a practically\nfree gift of it for the "} -{"id": 392, "text": "public benefit. The nice old trees, flowers,\nseats, and fountain make it a much less gloomy spot than during any\ntime of its history since the Red Lion kept solitary watch in the\nfields.\n\nThe largest of all the squares is Lincoln’s Inn Fields. The garden,\nwhich is 7¼ acres in extent, was, after many lengthy negotiations,\nfinally opened to the public in 1895. The fine old houses which\nsurvive, show the importance and size of Inigo Jones’s original\nconception. It has been said that the Square is exactly the same size\nas the base of the Great Pyramid, but this is not the case. The west\nside, which was completed by Inigo Jones, was begun in 1618, but the\ncentre of the Square was left an open waste till long after that\ndate. The Fields, before the building commenced, were used as a place\nof execution, and Babington and his associates met a traitor’s death,\nin 1586, on the spot where it was supposed they had planned some of\ntheir conspiracy. The surrounding houses had been built, and the gro"} -{"id": 393, "text": "und\nwas no longer an open field when William, Lord Russell, was beheaded\nthere in 1683. The scaffold was erected in what is now the centre of\nthe garden. The Fields for many years bore a bad name, and were the\nhaunt of thieves and ruffians of all sorts. When things reached such\na climax, that the Master of the Rolls was knocked down in crossing\nthe Fields, the centre was railed in. This was done about 1735, with\na view to improving their condition, and they remained closed, and\nkept up by the inhabitants, until a few years ago. The chief feature\nin the pleasant gardens now are the very fine trees. There are some\npatriarchal planes, with immense branches, under which numbers of\npeople are always to be seen resting. The houses, Old Lindsay House,\nNewcastle House, the College of Surgeons, Sir John Soane’s Museum, with\nlong histories of their own, and all the lesser ones, with a sleepy air\nof dingy respectability and ancient splendour, now look down on a most\npeaceful, well-kept garden, an"} -{"id": 394, "text": "d Gay’s lines of warning are no longer a\nnecessary caution:--\n\n “Where Lincoln’s Inn wide space is rail’d around,\n Cross not with venturous step; there oft is found\n The lurking thief, who, while the daylight shone,\n Made the walls echo with his begging tone;\n That crutch, which late compassion moved, shall wound\n Thy bleeding head, and fell thee to the ground.”\n\nAdjoining the Fields is New Square, which used to be known as Little\nLincoln’s Inn Fields, and earlier still as Fickett’s Field or Croft.\nIt was built in 1687. Fickett’s Fields occupied a wider area, and until\n1620 they, like the larger Fields, were a place of execution. The\nsite of New Square was planted and laid out in very early days. The\nKnights of St. John in 1376 made it into a walking place, planted with\ntrees, for the clerks, apprentices, and students of the law. In 1399\na certain Roger Legit was fined and imprisoned for setting mantraps\nwith a “malicious intention to maim the said clerks a"} -{"id": 395, "text": "nd others,” as\nthey strolled in their shaded walks. This Square, like all others, went\nthrough phases of being unkept and untidy, but was finally remodelled,\ninto its present neat form, in 1845.\n\nEastwards, into the heart of London there are the squares which are the\nremains of the open ground without the City walls. Charterhouse Square,\nwhich is now a retired, quiet spot with old houses telling of a former\nprosperity, has a history reaching back to the fourteenth century. In\nthe days of the Black Death, when people were dying so fast that the\nChronicler of London, Stowe, says that “scarce the tenth person of all\nsorts was left alive,” the “churchyards were not sufficient to receive\nthe dead, but men were forced to chuse out certaine fields for burials:\nwhereupon Ralph Stratford, Bishop of London, in the yeere 1348 bought a\npiece of ground, called _No man’s land_, which he inclosed with a wall\nof Bricke, and dedicated for buriall of the dead, builded thereupon\na proper Chappell, which "} -{"id": 396, "text": "is now enlarged, and made a dwelling-house:\nand this burying plot is become a faire Garden, retaining the old\nname of Pardon Churchyard.” It was very soon after this purchase,\nthat the Carthusian monastery was founded hard by; but although the\nland was bought by the Order, Pardon Churchyard was maintained as a\nburial-ground for felons and suicides. After the dissolution of the\nmonasteries, when Charterhouse School and Hospital had been established\nby Thomas Sutton, the houses round the other three sides of the Square\nbegan to be built. One of the finest was Rutland House, once the\nresidence of the Venetian Ambassador. It is still a quiet, quaint place\nof old memories; and the garden, with two walks crossing each other\ndiagonally, and some fair-sized trees, has a solemn look, as if, even\nafter all the centuries that have passed, it had some trace of its\norigin. Finsbury Circus and Finsbury Square are very different. They\nare more modern, bustling places which have entirely effaced the p"} -{"id": 397, "text": "ast.\nThat they were, for long years, the most resorted to of open spaces,\nwhere Londoners took their walks is well-nigh forgotten, except in the\nname Finsbury, or Fensbury, the fen or moor-like fields without the\nwalls. Bethlehem Hospital, known as Bedlam, was, for many generations,\nthe only large building on the Fields. Finsbury Square was begun more\nthan a hundred years ago, and but for the few green trees, nothing\nsuggests the former country origin. Trinity Square, by the Tower, is\nso unique in aspect and association that it must be mentioned. In the\nsixteenth century the “tenements and garden plots” encroached on Tower\nHill right up to the “Tower Ditch,” and from the earliest time some\nkind of garden existed at the Tower. When it was a royal residence,\nfrequent entries appear in the accounts of payments for the upkeep of\nthe garden. Although so much has changed, and the wild animals that\nafforded amusement for centuries are removed, it is pleasant to see the\nmoat turned into walks,"} -{"id": 398, "text": " and well planted with iris and hardy plants,\nand making quite a bright show in summer, in contrast to the sombre\ngrey walls.\n\nAway in the East End there are numbers of other gloomy little squares\nwhose gardens are the playground of the neighbourhood. They are\nuseful spaces of air and light, and the few trees and low houses\nsurrounding them give a little ventilation in some of the very crowded\ndistricts. They are all much alike; in some more care has been taken\nin the planting and selection of the trees than in others. There is\nDe Beauvoir Square, Dalston; Arbour Square, off the Commercial Road;\nYork Square, Stepney; Wellclose, near the Mint and London Docks;\nTrafalgar Square, Mile End; and many others dotted about among the\ndismal streets. Turning to the West End again, the largest of the\nsquare spaces is Vincent Square, which forms the playground of the\nWestminster boys. It derives its name from Dr. Vincent, the head-master\nwho was chiefly instrumental in obtaining it for the use of "} -{"id": 399, "text": "the boys.\nIt was first marked out in 1810, and enclosed by railings in 1842. The\n10 acres of ground were part of Tothill Fields, and the site was a\nburial-place in the time of the Great Plague.\n\nThere is nothing of historical interest in the Squares of Belgravia.\nThe ground covered by Belgrave Square was known as Five Fields,\nwhich were so swampy that no one had attempted to build on them. It\nwas the celebrated builder, Thomas Cubitt, who in 1825 was able by\ndraining, and removing clay, which he used for bricks, to reach a solid\nfoundation, and in a few years had built Belgrave and Eaton Squares and\nthe streets adjoining. The site of the centre of Belgrave Square was\nthen a market-garden. Ebury Square, the garden of which is open to the\npublic, and tastefully laid out, was built about 1820. The farm on\nthat spot, which in 1676 came to the Grosvenor family, was a farm of\n430 acres in Queen Elizabeth’s time, and is mentioned as early as 1307,\nwhen Edward I. gave John de Benstede permissi"} -{"id": 400, "text": "on to fortify it. There\nwas only one road across the swampy ground from St. James’s to Chelsea,\nand that was the King’s Road, which followed the line of the centre\nof Eaton Square. There were, however, numerous footpaths, infested\nby footpads and robbers at night, and bright with wild flowers and\nscented by briar roses by day. There is a great sameness among all the\nsquares between Vauxhall Bridge and the Pimlico Road. Of this latter\noriginal-sounding name there seems no satisfactory explanation. The\nspace between Warwick Street and the river, was in old times occupied\nby the Manor House of Neyte, and in later days by nurseries and a tea\ngarden, known as the Neat House. The ground near Eccleston Square was\nan osier bed. The whole surface was raised by Cubitt, with soil from\nSt. Katherine’s Docks in 1827, and the houses built, and square gardens\nlaid out; Eccleston in 1835, Warwick 1843, St. George’s 1850, and so\non until the whole was covered. The gardens are all in the same style,\nand"} -{"id": 401, "text": " have no horticultural interest. The garden in front of Cadogan\nPlace varied most from the usual pattern, having been designed by\nRepton. “Instead of raising the surface to the level of the street, as\nhad usually been the custom, by bringing earth from a distance,” he\n“recommended a valley to be formed through its whole length, with other\nlesser valleys flowing from it, and hills to be raised by the ground\nso taken from the valleys.” The original intention was to bring the\noverflow of the Serpentine down Repton’s valley, but this was never\ndone, and the gardens now only show the variation of level in one part.\nThere is a good assortment of trees, and a group of mulberries which\nbear fruit every year.\n\nFurther west again, the old hamlet of Brompton has small, quiet squares\nof its own. The trees of Brompton Square, that quiet _cul-de-sac_, and\nthe way through with a nice row of trees to Holy Trinity Church (built\nin 1829), with Cottage Place running parallel with it, is rather unlike\nany"} -{"id": 402, "text": " other corner of London. Before it was built over Brompton was\nfamous for its gardens--first that of London and Wise, in the reign of\nWilliam III. and Anne, and then that of William Curtis, the editor of\nthe _Botanical Magazine_. A guide-book of 1792, describes Brompton as\n“a populous hamlet of Kensington, adjoining Knightsbridge, remarkable\nfor the salubrity of its air. This place was the residence of Oliver\nCromwell.” Kensington Square is older than any of the Brompton Squares,\nhaving been begun in James II.’s reign, and completed after William\nIII. was living in Kensington Palace. From the first it was very\nfashionable, and has many celebrated names connected with it--Addison,\nTalleyrand, Archbishop Herring, John Stuart Mill, and many others.\nThe weeping ash trees and circular beds give the gardens a character\nof their own. Edwardes differs from all other London Squares. The\nsmall houses and large square garden are said by Leigh Hunt, who lived\nthere at one time, to have been laid o"} -{"id": 403, "text": "ut to suit the taste of French\nrefugees, who it was thought might take up their quarters there. The\nsmall houses were to suit their empty pockets, and the large garden\ntheir taste for a sociable out-of-door life. Loudon was an admirer\nof the design of the garden, which he says was made by Aiglio, an\neminent landscape painter, in 1819. The arrangement is quite distinct\nfrom other squares--small paths, partly hidden by groups of bushes and\nlarger trees, all round the edge, and from them twisting walks diverge\ntowards the centre. At their meeting-point now stands a shell from the\nbattle of the Alma. The Square with its nice trees, standard hollies,\nand even a few conifers and carefully-planted beds, is further original\nin possessing a beadle. This gentleman, who lives in a delightful\nlittle house, with a portico in which the visitors to the Square\ncan shelter from the rain, looks most imposing in his uniform and\ngold-braided hat, and adds greatly to the old-world appearance of the\nplace. "} -{"id": 404, "text": "It is sad to think the leases all fall in within the next few\nyears, and this quaint personage and vast garden (it is 3¼ acres) and\nfunny little houses may all disappear from London.\n\nIt is impossible in such a hasty glance to give more than a very\nfaint sketch of the story of the squares, or a mere suggestion of the\nromance attached to them. Though the gardening in many leaves much to\nbe desired, it is well to appreciate things as they are, and enjoy\nto the full the pleasure the sight of the huge planes in Berkeley\nor Bedford Squares, or Lincoln’s Inn Fields, can bring even to the\nharassed Londoner. When the sun shines through the large leaves, and\nthe chequered light and shade play on the grass beneath, and sunbeams\neven light up the massive black stems, which defy the injurious fogs,\nthey possess a soothing and refreshing power. They, indeed, add to the\nenjoyment, the health, and the beauty of London.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nBURIAL-GROUNDS\n\n _Praises on tombs are trifles vainly spent,\n "} -{"id": 405, "text": " A man’s good name is his best monument._\n\n --EPITAPH IN ST. BOTOLPH, ALDERSGATE.\n\n\nThe disused burial-grounds within the London area must now be counted\namong its gardens. There are those who would not have the living\nbenefit by these hallowed spots set apart for the dead, but the vast\nmajority of people have welcomed the movement which has led to this\nchange. In some instances there is no doubt the transformation has been\nbadly done. Here and there graves have been disturbed and tombstones\nheedlessly moved, but on the whole the improvement of the last fifty\nyears has been immense. It is appalling even to read the accounts of\nmany of the London graveyards before this reaction set in. The hideous\nsights, the foul condition in which God’s acre was often allowed to\nremain, as revealed by the inquiry held about 1850, together with the\nhorrors of body-snatchers, are such a disagreeable contrast to the\norderly graveyards of to-day, that the removal of a few head"} -{"id": 406, "text": "-stones is\na much lesser evil.\n\nLoudon, in the _Botanical Magazine_, was one of the first to write\nabout the improvement of public cemeteries, and to point out how they\ncould be beautified, and the suggestion that the smaller burial-grounds\ncould be turned into gardens was made as early as 1843 by Sir Edwin\nChadwick. But the closing of them did not come until ten years later,\nand it was many years after that, before any attempt was made to turn\nthem into gardens. By 1877 eight had been transformed, and from that\ntime onwards, every year something has been done. The Metropolitan\nGardens Association, started by Lord Meath (then Lord Brabazon) in\n1882, has done much towards accomplishing this work. One of the\nearliest churchyards taken in hand was that of St. Pancras, and joined\nto it St. Giles-in-the-Fields. The Act permitting this was in 1875.\nPerhaps because it was one of the first, it is also one of the worst in\ntaste and arrangement. The church of St. Pancras-in-the-Fields is one\nof "} -{"id": 407, "text": "the oldest in Middlesex. “For the antiquity thereof” it “is thought\nnot to yield to St. Paul’s in London.” In 1593 the houses standing\nnear this old Norman church were much “decaied, leaving poore Pancras\nwithout companie or comfort.” The bell of St. Pancras Church was said\nto be the last tolled in England at the time of the Reformation,\nto call people to Mass. In the seventeenth and eighteenth century,\nadjoining to the south side of the churchyard, was “a good spaw,\nwhose water is of a sweet taste,” very clear, and imbued with various\nmedicinal qualities. These “Pancras Wells” had a large garden, which\nextended from the Spa buildings by the churchyard, between the coach\nroad from Hampstead, and the footpath across the meadows to Gray’s Inn.\nAs late as 1772 the coach was stopped and robbed at this corner, and\nthe footpads, armed with cutlasses, made off through the churchyard.\nIt was of this then lonely, rural churchyard that it was said the dead\nwould rest “as secure against the day o"} -{"id": 408, "text": "f resurrection as ... in stately\nPaules”; but, alas for modern exigencies, the Midland Railway now spans\nthe sacred ground by a viaduct, and the would-be improvers, in turning\nwhat remained into a garden, have moved the tombstones, levelled the\nundulating ground, and heaped the head-stones into terrible rocky\nmounds, or pushed them in rows along the wall. Numerous were the\ninteresting monuments it contained; many a courtly French _emigré_ here\nfound a resting-place, such as the Comte de Front, on whose tomb was\nthe line, “A foreign land preserves his ashes with respect.” Although\na monumental tablet put up to record the opening, and the names of the\ndesigners of the garden, proclaims it to be “a boon to the living, a\ngrace to the dead”; it is doubtful how that respect to the dead was\nshown. The lines go on to say it was “not for the culture of health\nonly, but also of thought.” Surely health and thought could have been\nequally well stimulated by making pretty paths, lined with trees an"} -{"id": 409, "text": "d\nflowers, wind reverently in and out among the tombs, and up and down\nthe undulating ground, with seats in shade or sun, arranged with peeps\nof the old church; and there might even have been room for the fine\nsun-dial (the gift of Baroness Burdett-Coutts) without levelling the\nwhole area and laying it out with geometrically straight asphalt walks.\nThe asphalt paths are in themselves a necessity in most cases, as the\nexpense of keeping gravel in order is too great, and the majority of\nthe renovated disused burial-grounds suffer from this fact.\n\nWestward from St. Pancras the next large churchyard is that of\nMarylebone, and further to the north is St. John’s Wood burial-ground.\nIts large trees and shaded walks are familiar to the thousands who go\nevery year to Lord’s Cricket Ground. Another large one, still more\nwestward, now used as a garden, is Paddington. The small green patch\nround St. Mary’s Church, and a large cemetery beyond, together make\nover 4 acres. All round London these spac"} -{"id": 410, "text": "es are being used, and in\nmost cases little has been done to upset the ground--among the more\nprominent are St. George’s, Hanover Square, in Bayswater; St. John’s,\nWaterloo Road; Brixton Parish Church, with a row of yew trees; Fulham\nParish Church, with Irish yews, and tall, closely clipped hollies;\nSt. Mary’s, Upper Street, Islington, and many others. Some are large\nspaces, such as St. John-at-Hackney, which covers 3 acres, and in it\nstands the tower of the old church, the present very large church which\ndominates it being in the Georgian style of 1797.\n\nStepney is the largest of all these disused churchyards, and covers\n7 acres. It was opened as a public garden in 1887. The beautiful old\nPerpendicular church of St. Dunstan, with its carved gargoyles and fine\nold tower, which escaped the fire that destroyed the roof, stands on\na low level, with the large square stone graves, of which there are a\ngreat quantity, on higher mounds round it. The central path, the old\napproach to the churc"} -{"id": 411, "text": "h, has trees on either side, and runs straight\nacross the graveyard, and is as peaceful-looking as the walk in many\na country churchyard. The way the laying out as a garden has been\ncarried out is unfortunate in many respects. The number of the big,\nstone, box-like monuments made it difficult to carry intersecting\npaths across between them, so a plan hardly to be commended has been\nfollowed, of half burying a number of these, and planting bushes in the\nearth thus thrown about, and putting the necessary frames for raising\nplants in the centre. To place the frames against the wall, and make a\nraised path or terrace among the tombs, and not to have banked them up\nwith a kind of rockery of broken pieces, might have been more fitting.\nThe part of the ground which is less crowded is well planted. Birch and\nalder (_Alnus cordifolia_) are doing well, and a nice clump of gorse\nflourishes.\n\nOne of the best-arranged of these old East End graveyards is that of\nSt. George’s-in-the-East, near Ratcli"} -{"id": 412, "text": "ffe Highway. It is kept up by the\nBorough of Stepney, having been put in order under the direction of the\nrector, Rev. C. H. Turner (now Bishop of Islington), at the expense of\nMr. A. G. Crowder, in 1866. The tombstones have for the most part been\nplaced against the wall, or left standing if out of the way, as in the\ncase of the one to the Marr family, whose murder caused horror in 1811.\nIn the centre stands the obelisk monument to Mrs. Raine, a benefactress\nof the parish, who died in 1725. The whole of the ground is laid out\nwith great taste and simplicity, and is thoroughly well cared for.\nThe flowers seem to flourish particularly well, and the borders in\nsummer are redolent with the scent of old clove carnations, which are\nactually raised and kept from year to year on the premises. A small\ngreen-house supplies the needs of the flower-beds, The superintendence\nof the garden is left to Miss Kate Hall, who takes charge of the\nBorough of Stepney Museum in Whitechapel Road, and also of t"} -{"id": 413, "text": "he charming\nlittle nature-study museum in the St. George’s Churchyard Garden. What\nformerly was the mortuary has been turned to good account, and hundreds\nof children in the borough benefit by Miss Hall’s instruction. Aquaria\nboth for fresh-water fish and shells, and salt-water collections,\nwith a lobster, starfish, sea anemones, and growing sea weeds are to\nbe seen, and moths, butterflies, dragon-flies, pass through all their\nstages, while toads, frogs, and salamanders and such-like are a great\ndelight. The hedgehog spends his summer in the garden, and hibernates\ncomfortably in the museum. The bees at work in the glass hive are\nanother source of instruction. Outside the museum a special plot is\ntended by the pupils, who are allowed in turn to work, dig, and prune,\nand who obtain, under the eye of their sympathetic teacher, most\ncreditable results. The charm of this East End garden, and the special\neducational uses it has been put to, shows what can be achieved, and\nsets a good example"} -{"id": 414, "text": " to others, where similar opportunities exist. A\nless promising neighbourhood for gardening could hardly be imagined,\nwhich surely shows that no one need be disheartened.\n\nSome of the burial-grounds were in such a shocking state before they\nwere taken in hand, that very few of the head-stones remained in their\nright places, and many had gone altogether, while some even reappeared\nas paving-stones in the district. Spa Fields, Clerkenwell, had a very\nchequered history. The site was first a tea garden, near the famous\nSadler’s Wells. For a few years, from 1770, its “little Pantheon” and\npretty garden, with a pond or “canal” stocked with fish, and alcoves\nfor tea drinkers, was thronged by the middle class, small tradesmen,\nand apprentices, while the more fashionable world flocked to Ranelagh\nor Almack’s. It was the sort of place in which John Gilpin and his\nspouse might have amused themselves, on a less important holiday than\ntheir wedding anniversary. Twenty years later the scene had chan"} -{"id": 415, "text": "ged.\nThe rotunda was turned into a chapel, by the Countess of Huntingdon,\nwho took up her residence in a jessamine-covered house that had\nbeen a tavern, near to it. The gardens had already been turned into\na private burial-ground, which soon became notorious for the evil\ncondition in which it was kept. There every single gravestone had\ndisappeared long before it was converted into the neat little garden,\nthe delight of poor Clerkenwell children. The rotunda was at length\npulled down, and in 1888 a new church was erected on the site. The\nsame disgraceful story of neglect and repulsive overcrowding, can be\ntold of the Victoria Park Cemetery, although the ground had not such a\nstrange early history. It was one of those private cemeteries which the\nlegislation with regard to other burial-places did not touch. It was\nnever consecrated, and abuses of every kind were connected with it. It\nis a space of 9½ acres in a crowded district between Bethnal Green and\nBow, a little to the south of Vict"} -{"id": 416, "text": "oria Park. After various difficulties\nin raising funds and so forth, it was laid out by the Metropolitan\nGardens Association, opened to the public in 1894, and is kept up by\nthe London County Council, and is an extremely popular recreation\nground, under the name of “Meath Gardens.”\n\nOne of the quiet spots near the City is Bunhill Fields. This has for\nover two hundred years been the Nonconformist burial-ground. The\nland was enclosed by a brick wall, by the City of London in 1665 for\ninterments “in that dreadful year of Pestilence. However, it not\nbeing made use of on that occasion,” a man called “Tindal took a\nlease thereof, and converted it into a burial-ground for the use of\nDissenters.” As late as 1756 it appears to have been known as “Tindal’s\nBurial-ground.” The name Bunhill Fields was given to that part of\nFinsbury Fields, on to which quantities of bones were taken from St.\nPaul’s in 1549. It is said “above a thousand cartloads of human bones”\nwere deposited there. No wonder the g"} -{"id": 417, "text": "hastly name of “bone hill,”\ncorrupted into Bunhill, has clung to the place. At the present time the\ngravestones here are undisturbed, and more respect has been shown to\nthem than to the bones in the sixteenth century. Asphalt paths meander\nthrough a forest of monuments, and a few seats are placed in the shade\nof some of the trees. Those who live in this poor and busy district no\ndoubt make much use of these places of rest, but the visitor is only\nbrought to this depressing, gloomy spot on a pilgrimage to the tomb of\nJohn Bunyan. He rests near the centre of the ground, under a modern\neffigy. Not far off is the tomb of Dr. Isaac Watts, whose hymns are\nrepeated wherever the British tongue is spoken, and near him lies the\nauthor of “Robinson Crusoe,” Daniel Defoe. This quaint old enclosure\nopens off the City Road, opposite Wesley’s Chapel, and on the western\nside it is skirted by Bunhill Row. But a few yards distant is another\ngraveyard of very different aspect, as it contains only one sto"} -{"id": 418, "text": "ne,\nand that a very small one, with the name of George Fox, who died in\n1690. The other graves in this, the “Friends’ Burial-ground,” never\nhaving been marked in any way, it has the appearance of a dismal little\ngarden, like the approach or “gravel sweep” to a suburban villa. But it\nis neatly kept.\n\nOf all the churchyards, that of St. Paul’s is best known, and least\nlike the ordinary idea of one. But this was not always so. It was\nfor centuries an actual burying-place. When the foundations of the\npresent cathedral were dug, after the Great Fire, a series of early\nburials were disclosed. There were Saxon coffins, and below them\nBritish graves, where wooden and ivory pins were found, which fastened\nthe woollen shrouds of those who rested there, and below that again,\nbetween twenty and thirty feet deep, were Roman remains, with fragments\nof pottery, rings, beads, and such-like.\n\nThe original churchyard was very much larger, as the present houses in\n“St. Paul’s Churchyard” are actually on "} -{"id": 419, "text": "part of the ground included in\nit. It extended from Old Change in Cheapside to Paternoster Row, and on\nthe south to Carter Lane, and the whole was surrounded by a wall built\nin 1109, with the principal gateway opening into “Ludgate Street.” This\nwall seems to have been unfinished, or else part of it became ruinous\nin course of time, and the churchyard became the resort of thieves\nand ruffians. To remedy this state of things, the wall was completed\nand fortified early in the fourteenth century. It had six gates, and\nremained like this until the Great Fire, although long before that date\nhouses had been built against the wall both within and without. Round\nhere were collected the shops of the most famous booksellers, such as\nJohn Day, who came here in 1575.\n\n[Illustration: ST. PAUL’S CHURCHYARD]\n\nOn the north side was a plot of ground known as Pardon’s Churchyard,\nand here was built a cloister in Henry V.’s time, decorated with\npaintings to illustrate Lidgate’s translation of “The Dance "} -{"id": 420, "text": "of Death.”\nHere, too, was a chapel and charnel-house, and the whole was\npulled down by order of the Protector Somerset, who used some of the\nmaterial in building Somerset House. It was on that occasion that the\ncartloads of bones were removed to Finsbury Fields. There, covered\nwith earth, they made a solid, conspicuous hill on which windmills\nwere erected. It was part of this same ground which has already been\nreferred to as Bunhill Fields. Great as was the damage done by the\nFire, perhaps no site has been so completely altered as that of St.\nPaul’s. The modern cathedral, dearly loved by all Londoners, stands at\nquite a different angle from the old one, the western limit of which is\nmarked by the statue of Queen Anne. Nestling close to the south-west\ncorner of the great Gothic cathedral with its lofty spire, was the\nparish church of St. Gregory, and the crypt was the parish church\nof St. Faith’s. Both these parishes were allocated a portion of the\nchurchyard for their burials.\n\nTo the "} -{"id": 421, "text": "north-east of the cathedral stood Paul’s Cross, the out-door\npulpit whence many notable sermons were preached. It is described\nby Stowe. “About the middest of this Churchyard is a pulpit-crosse\nof timber, mounted upon steps of stone, and covered with Lead, in\nwhich are Sermons preached by learned Divines, every Sunday in the\nfore-noone. The very antiquity of which Crosse is to me unknowne.” The\nearliest scene he records as taking place at this “crosse,” was when\nHenry III., in 1259, commanded the Mayor to cause “every stripling of\ntwelve years of age and upward to assemble there,” to swear “to be\ntrue to the King and his heires, Kings of England.” In later times,\nthe most distinguished preachers of the day were summoned to preach\nbefore the Court and the Mayor, Aldermen and citizens, and the\npolitical significance of such harangues may well be imagined. It was\nhere Papal Bulls were promulgated; here Tyndal’s translation of the\nNew Testament was publicly burnt; here Queen Elizabeth list"} -{"id": 422, "text": "ened to a\nsermon of thanksgiving on the defeat of the Armada--only to mention a\nfew of the associations that cling round the spot, which, until within\nthe last fifty years, was marked by an old elm tree which kept its\nmemory green. Now it is treated with scant respect. There is, indeed,\na little wooden notice-board, like a giant flower-label, stuck into\nthe ground by an iron support, which records the fact that here stood\nPaul’s Cross, destroyed by the Fire of 1666. The notice is not so large\nor conspicuous as the one a few feet from it, beseeching the kindly\nfriends of the pigeons not to feed them on the flower-beds! It is to be\nhoped that before long the bequest of £5000 of the late H. C. Richards,\nfor the re-erection of the Cross, may be embodied in some visible form.\n\nWhat a picture such recollections call up!--the excited crowds with\nall the colour of Tudor costumes, the eager, fanatical faces of the\n“defenders of the Faith,” the sad and despondent faces of the intensely\nserious R"} -{"id": 423, "text": "eformers, as they see the blue smoke curl upwards, and the\nflames consume the sacred volumes.\n\nPicture the churchyard once more in still earlier times, when strange,\nfantastic customs clung round the cathedral services. One of the most\noriginal seems to have arisen from the tenure of land in Essex granted\nto Sir William Baud by the Dean and Chapter. The twenty-two acres of\nland were held on the condition that “hee would (for ever) upon the\nFeast day of the Conversion of Paul in Winter give unto them a good\nDoe, seasonable and sweete, and upon the Feast of the Commemoration of\nSt. Paul in Summer, a good Buck, and offer the same at the high Altar,\nthe same to bee spent amongst the Canons residents.” On the appointed\ndays the keeper who had brought the deer carried it through the\nprocession to the high altar. There the head was severed, and the body\nsent off to be cooked, while the horns, stuck on a spear, were carried\nround the cathedral. The procession consisted of the Dean and Chapter\n"} -{"id": 424, "text": "in their copes--special ones for the two occasions--one embroidered\nwith does, the other with bucks, the gift of the Baud family, and on\ntheir heads garlands of roses. Having performed the ceremony within the\nchurch, the whole procession issued out of the west door, and there\nthe keeper blew a blast upon his horn, and when he had “blowed the\ndeath of the Bucke,” the “Horners that were about the City presently\nanswered him in like manner.” The Dean and Chapter paid the blowers of\nhorns fourpence each and their dinner, while the man who brought the\nvenison got five shillings and his food and lodgings, and a “loafe of\nbread, having the picture of Saint Paul upon it,” to take away with\nhim. What a strange picture of mediæval life and half-pagan rites! yet\nall conducted with perfect good faith, in all seriousness. It is just\none of the great charms of knowing London and its traditions, that one\nis able to clear away in imagination the growth of centuries, and throw\nback one’s mind to the pa"} -{"id": 425, "text": "st--to stand at the top of Ludgate Hill and to\nremove Wren’s building and to see the Gothic pinnacles; to blot out the\ngarden and fountain and modern seats, and see Paul’s Cross; on the left\nto see the arches of the cloisters, and on the right the high wall and\ntimbered houses; then to open the western door and see this strange\nprocession issue forth, with the antlers borne aloft, and hear the\nbugle-blast and answering notes.\n\nSurely no place can be more crowded with memories than busy, “roaring\nLondon,” and nowhere are the past and present so unexpectedly brought\ntogether. The City is full of surprises to those who have leisure to\nwander among its narrow, crowded streets. The quiet little graveyards\nafford many of these telling contrasts. Suddenly, in the busiest\nthoroughfares, where a constant stream of men are walking by every\nweekday, come these quiet little back-waters. In many cases the\nchurches themselves have vanished, or only remain in part. St. Mary’s\nStaining is one of these"} -{"id": 426, "text": ", so hidden away that one might walk along\nFenchurch Street hundreds of times and never find it. The approach\nis by a very narrow alley, at the end of which is this quiet little\ngraveyard, where, among other worthies, reposes Sir Arthur Savage,\nknighted at Cadiz in 1596. The church, all except the tower, was\ndestroyed in the Great Fire, and never rebuilt. The picturesque old\ntower stands in the centre of this little plot, which now forms the\ngarden of the Clothworkers’ Company, whose hall opens on to one side of\nit.\n\nAnother church which perished in the Fire and was never rebuilt is St.\nOlave’s, Hart Street, but its churchyard remains, and a few large tombs\nstand in a small garden with seats, where at all times of the year some\nweary wayfarers are resting.\n\nAnother such graveyard where the burnt church was not restored is at\nthe corner of Wood Street and Cheapside. The old tree inside the closed\nrailings may have inspired the lark to carol so joyously as to call up\nthe “vision of poor "} -{"id": 427, "text": "Susan.”\n\nSt. Botolph’s, Aldersgate, has one of the largest churchyards in the\nCity, but it really consists of four pieces of land thrown into one\nin 1892, by a scheme under the London Parochial Charities, which\ncontributed part of the purchase-money of some of the land, and gives\n£150 a year for the upkeep--£100 being paid to them by the General Post\nOffice, which has the right of light over the whole space. One-half\nof the churchyard is St. Botolph’s, and the rest is made up of the\nburial-grounds of St. Leonard, Foster Lane, and Christ Church, Newgate\nStreet, and a strip of land which might have been built on, but which,\nunder the revised scheme in 1900, became permanently part of this open\nspace. The garden is carefully laid out; there are nice plane trees\nand a little fountain, regular paths and numerous seats. A sheltered\ngallery runs along one side, and in it are tablets to commemorate deeds\nof heroism in humble life--Londoners who lost their lives in saving\nthe lives of others. T"} -{"id": 428, "text": "he church of St. Botolph was one which escaped\nthe Fire, but had fallen into such disrepair that it was rebuilt, by\nAct of Parliament, in 1754. The Act specially stipulates that none of\nthe gravestones were to be removed, but where some of them are, now\nthat it is a trim garden, it would be hard to say. Being not far from\nthe General Post Office, this garden is so much used by its officials\nduring the middle of the day, it has earned the name of the “Postman’s\nPark.”\n\n[Illustration: SUN-DIAL, ST. BOTOLPH’S]\n\nAnother much-frequented but much smaller churchyard is that of St.\nKatharine Coleman. Suddenly, in a corner of crowded Fenchurch Street,\ncomes this retired shade. The church, with its old high pews, and tiny\ngraveyard, devoid of monuments, is a peaceful oasis. These surprises\nin the densest parts of the City are very refreshing, and they are too\nnumerous to mention each individually. Most of them now are neatly\nkept, though some look dreary enough. None of them recall the neglect\no"} -{"id": 429, "text": "f half a century ago. St. Olave’s, Hart Street, in Seething Lane, is\nperhaps among the most gloomy. It is the church Pepys speaks of so\noften as “our owne church,” and was one of the churches that escaped\nthe Fire. The archway with the skulls over it, leads from Seething\nLane to the dismal-looking churchyard. Nothing is done to alter or\nbrighten this place of many memories. One shudders to think of what it\nmust have been like when Pepys crossed it for the first time after the\nGreat Plague, when he went to the memorial service for King Charles\nI., on 30th January 1666. No wonder he says it “frighted me indeed to\ngo through the church more than I thought it could have done, to see\nso many graves lie so high upon the churchyard, where people have been\nburied of the Plague. I was much troubled about it, and do not think\nto go through it again a good while.” The parish registers show that\nno less than 326 were interred in this very small place, during the\nprevious six months, so Pepys’ feel"} -{"id": 430, "text": "ings were well justified. The old\nchurch has a special interest to lovers of gardens, as in it is the\ntomb of William Turner, the author of the first English Herbal.\n\nIn more than one City churchyard a portion of the old wall\nmakes its appearance. There is St. Alphage, London Wall, and\nAllhallows-in-the-Wall, where the little gardens by the wall have\nbeen formed with a view to preserving it. The most picturesque is St.\nGiles’s, Cripplegate, where Milton is buried. The graveyard is large,\nand the ground rises above the footpath, which was made across it some\nthirty years ago, to a bastion of the wall, of rough stones and flint,\nwhich is in its old state, although part of the wall was rebuilt in\n1803. There has been no attempt here to make it a resting-place for the\nliving, although it is used as a thoroughfare.\n\n[Illustration: THE BANK GARDEN]\n\nFew people who have not entered the Bank of England would suspect it\nof enclosing an extremely pretty garden. There the inner courtyard\npossesse"} -{"id": 431, "text": "s tall lime trees, gay rhododendrons, and a cool splashing\nfountain, with ferns and iris glistening in the spray. It is quite\none of the most delightfully fresh and peaceful corners on a hot\nsummer’s day, and carries one in imagination to Italy. Yet this is\nbut another of the many old City churchyards. The parish of St.\nChristopher-le-Stocks was absorbed, with five other parishes, into\nSt. Margaret’s, Lothbury, in 1781. Some of the tombs, and pictures of\nMoses and Aaron, were removed from it, and are still to be seen in St.\nMargaret’s, which is crowded with monuments from all six churches.\nThe Bank was already in possession of most of the land within the\nparish, and by the Act of Parliament of 1781, the church and churchyard\nbecame part of the Bank premises, which cover nearly three acres. The\nchurch site was built over, but the graveyard became the garden. This\nenclosure at first was a simple grass plot, as shown in an engraving\ndated 1790. The lime trees may have been planted soon af"} -{"id": 432, "text": "ter, as they\nappear as large trees sixty years later, and are spoken of in 1855\nas two of the finest lime trees in London. The fountain was put up in\n1852 by Mr. Thomas Hankey, then the governor. The water for it came\nfrom the tanks belonging to the Bank, supplied by an artesian well 330\nfeet deep, said to be very pure, and free from lime. Perhaps that is\nwhy the rhododendrons look so flourishing. Most of the Bank, as is well\nknown, was the work of the architect Sir John Soane, but some of the\nportions built by Sir Robert Taylor, before his death in 1788, when\nSoane was appointed to succeed him, are to be seen in the garden court.\nIt is said that the last person buried there was a Bank clerk named\nJenkins, who was 7½ feet in height. He was allowed to rest there, as he\nfeared he might be disinterred on account of his gigantic proportions.\n\nVery different is the churchyard of St. Martin’s, on Ludgate Hill. It\nbelongs to Stationers’ Hall, and although it boasts of one fine plane\ntree, is "} -{"id": 433, "text": "an untidy, grimy, dingy little square. By permission of all\nthe necessary authorities, the coffins (480 in number) were removed and\nreverently buried in Brookwood Cemetery in 1893, a careful register\nof all the names and dates, that could be deciphered, being kept.\nThis having been done, the earth was merely left in an irregular heap\nround the tree, and no attempt has been made to improve in any way the\nforsaken appearance of the place.\n\nThis sketch does not aim at being a guide-book, and it would only be\ntedious to enumerate the many churchyards, without as well as within\nthe City, which of late years have been made worthy “gardens of sleep.”\nSt. Luke’s, Old Street; St. Leonard’s, Shoreditch; St. Anne’s, Soho;\nSt. Sepulchre, Holborn, and many others in every part of the town, from\nbeing dreary and untidy, have become orderly and well kept; and instead\nof being unwholesome and unsightly, have become attractive harbours of\nrefuge in the sea of streets and houses.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\nINNS OF"} -{"id": 434, "text": " COURT\n\n _Sweete Themmes! runne softly, till I end my Song.\n At length they all to mery London came,_\n\n * * * * *\n\n _There when they came, whereas those brickly towers\n The which on Themmes brode aged backe doe ryde\n Where now the studious Lawyers have their bowers,\n There whylome wont the Templer Knights to byde,\n Till they decayed through pride:_\n\n * * * * *\n\n _Sweete Themmes! runne softly, till I end my Song._\n\n --SPENSER: “Prothalamion, or a Spousall Verse.”\n\n\nThere are no more peaceful gardens in all London than those among\nthe venerable buildings devoted to the study of the law. There is a\nsense of dignity and repose, the moment one has entered from the noisy\nthoroughfares which surround these quiet courts. They may be dark,\ndull, and dingy, as seen by a Dickens, and sombre and serious, to those\nwhose business lies there; but to the ordinary Londoner,"} -{"id": 435, "text": " who loves the\nold world of the City, and the links that bind the present with the\npast, there are no more reposeful places than these gardens. The courts\nand buildings seem peopled with those who have worked and lived there.\nIf stones could speak, what tales some of these could tell!\n\nThe best-known, perhaps, of the gardens are those belonging to the\nInner and Middle Temple, as their green lawns are visible from the\nEmbankment. They add greatly to the charm of one of London’s most\nbeautiful roadways, now, alas! desecrated by the rush of electric\ntrams, and its fine young trees sacrificed to make yet more rapid the\nstream of beings hourly passing between South London and the City.\nThe modern whirl of business life can leave nothing untouched in this\nage of bustle, money-making, ceaseless toil, and care. Even pleasures\nhave to be provided by united effort, and partake of noise and hurry.\nThought and contemplation are hardly counted among the pleasures of\nlife; yet to those who value the"} -{"id": 436, "text": "m, even to look through the iron\nrailings on the smooth turf brings a sense of relief. Even to those\nwho scarcely seem to feel it, the very existence of these haunts of\ncomparative peace, which flash on their vision as they hurry by, leaves\nsomething, a subtle influence, a faint impression on the brain. It\nmust make a difference to a child who knows nothing beyond the noisy\nstreets and alleys in which its lot is cast, to hear the rooks caw and\nthe birds sing in the quiet gardens of Gray’s Inn. It must come as a\nwelcome relief, even though unperceived and unappreciated, from the din\nand clatter in which most of its days are passed. One cannot be too\ngrateful that it has not been thought necessary to change and modernise\n“our English juridical university.”\n\nAlthough the four great Inns of Court are untouched, the lesser Inns\nhave vanished or are vanishing. Clement’s Inn has gone. The garden\nthere was small, but had a special feature of its own--a sun-dial\nupheld by the kneeling figure of"} -{"id": 437, "text": " a blackamoor. This is now preserved\nin the Temple Garden, where it appeared soon after Clement’s Inn\nwas disestablished in 1884. Clement’s Inn, which appertained to the\nInner Temple, was so named from the Church of St. Clement Danes and\nSt. Clement’s Well, where “the City Youth on Festival Days used to\nentertain themselves with a variety of Diversions.” The sun-dial is\nsaid to have been presented to the Inn by a Holles, Lord Clare, and\nsome writers state that it was brought from Italy. It was, however,\nmore probably made in London by John Van Nost, a Dutch sculptor, who\ncame to England in William III.’s time, and established himself in\nPiccadilly. When he died in 1711 the business was continued by John\nCheere, brother of Sir Henry Cheere, who executed various monuments\nin Westminster Abbey. Similar work is known to have issued from this\nstudio. At Clifford’s Inn, which was also attached to the Inner Temple,\nthere is still a vestige of the garden, but it looks a miserable doomed\nwreck,"} -{"id": 438, "text": " a few black trees rising among heaps of earth and rubbish. It\nwas described in 1756 as “an airy place, and neatly kept; the garden\nbeing inclosed with a pallisado Pale, and adorned with Rows of Lime\ntrees, set round the gravel Plats and gravel walks.” Its present\nforlorn appearance is certainly not suggestive of its past glories.\nBarnard’s Inn has been converted into a school by the Mercers’ Company;\nit also has its court and trees on a very small scale. Staples Inn,\nso familiar from the timbered, gabled front it presents to Holborn,\ncarefully preserved by the Prudential Assurance Company, its present\nowners, still has its quiet little quadrangle of green at the back.\nIt was of that Dickens wrote such an inimitable description. “It is\none of those nooks, the turning into which out of the clashing streets\nimparts to the relieved pedestrian the sensation of having put cotton\nin his ears and velvet soles on his boots.” Furnival’s, Thavies’, and\nall the other Inns famous in olden days, ha"} -{"id": 439, "text": "ve disappeared, and their\nquiet little gardens with them.\n\nThe Temple Gardens are larger now than in the earlier days of their\nhistory, as then there was nothing to keep the Thames within its\nchannel at high tide. The landing steps from the river were approached\nby a causeway of arches across the muddy banks. It was not until 1528\nthat a protecting wall was built, and a pathway ran outside the wall\nbetween it and the river. Gardens must have existed on this site from\na very early date. When the Templars moved there from Holborn and\nbuilt the church in 1185, it was all open country round, with a few\ngreat houses and conventual buildings standing in their own orchards\nand gardens. After the suppression of the Order, it was in the hands\nof Aimer de Valence, Earl of Pembroke, and in 1324 the land was given\nto the Knights of St. John. As they had their own buildings and church\nnot far off, they granted it “to the Students of the Common Lawes of\nEngland: in whose possession the same hath sit"} -{"id": 440, "text": "hence remained.” All the\nconsecrated land, and all within the City, was included in the grant to\nthe Knights of St. John: besides this there was some land outside the\nCity, or the Outer Temple, part of which remained in secular hands, and\nin later times was covered by Essex House, with its famous gardens. The\nsection belonging to the Law Societies, beyond the City, is spoken of\nin early records as the Outer Garden, and from time to time buildings\nwere erected on it--at first under protest, as in 1565 there was an\norder “for the plucking down of a study newly erected,” and again in\n1567, “the nuisance made by Woodye, by building his house in the Outer\nGarden, shall be abated and plucked down, or as much thereof as is upon\nTemple ground.” All this garden has long ago been completely built\nover, and the large spaces now forming the Temple Gardens are those\nanciently known as the “Great Garden,” belonging to the Inner Temple\nand the Middle Temple Garden. The Outer Temple (never another Inn"} -{"id": 441, "text": ") was\nmerely the ground outside the limits of the City.\n\nThe long green slopes down to the Embankment, are much larger than the\nolder gardens, as the wall which was built in 1528 to keep out the\nriver, cut across from where No. 10 King’s Bench Walk now stands. The\nwall must have been a vast improvement, and was greatly appreciated.\nIn 1534 a vote of thanks was passed by the “parliament” of the Inner\nTemple to the late Treasurer, John Parkynton, who had “takyn many and\nsundrie payns in the buylding of the walle betwene the Thamez and\nthe garden,” for which “greate dyligens” they gave unto him “hartey\nthankes.” And, indeed, the garden must sorely have needed this\nprotection. It is difficult to picture the Temple in the sixteenth\ncentury, and the little gardens must have been as bewildering as the\npresent courts and buildings. In the records there are references to\nvarious gardens, no doubt small enclosures like the present courts,\nbesides the Great Garden and the kitchen-garden. There wa"} -{"id": 442, "text": "s the nut\ngarden, perhaps adorned with nut trees, as Fig-tree Court probably was\nwith figs. There is more than one record of payments for attending to\nthe fig-tree or painting rails round it. In 1610, just at the time\nJames I. brought them into notice, a mulberry was “set in Fairfield’s\nCourt.” In 1605 seats were set “about the trees in Hare’s Court”; thus\nall the courts were more or less little gardens. In 1510 a chamber is\nassigned to some one “in the garden called le Olyvaunte.” This was\nprobably the Elephant, from a sign carved or painted to distinguish a\nparticular house facing it. There was similarly “le Talbott,” probably\nfrom a greyhound sign, in another court. The houses facing the Great\nGarden apparently had steps descending into it from the chief rooms,\nand it was a special privilege to have your staircase opening on to it.\nThus, “May 1573, Mr. Wyott and Mr. Hall, licensed to have ‘a steeyrs’\n(stairs) from their chamber into the garden.” The Great Garden was\nconstantly being"} -{"id": 443, "text": " encroached on as new chambers were built. Entries in\nthe records with regard to permission to build into the garden often\noccur; for instance--\n\n“1581. Thomas Compton ... to build ... within the compass of the garden\nor little Court ... from the south corner of the brick wall of the said\ngarden ... 57 feet ... and from the said wall into the garden 22 feet.”\n\nOn one occasion a license to build was exceeded, and the offence\nfurther aggravated by cutting down “divers timber trees.” The offender\nwas at first put out of commons, and fined £20, which was afterwards\nmitigated to £5, with the addition of a most wise proviso, that “he\nshall plant double the number of trees he caused to be cut down.” Would\nthat the fault of felling timber always met with the same punishment!\n\nWhen houses were put on the site of the present Paper Buildings in\n1610, the Great Garden was cut in two, and the eastern portion went\nto form the broad stretch with its trees known as King’s Bench Walk.\nElm trees were pl"} -{"id": 444, "text": "anted, and the walks and seats under them repaired\nfrom time to time, and kept in good order. The part to the west was\ncarefully tended, and became from that year the chief garden. In James\nI.’s reign, that age of gardening, when every house of any pretensions\nwas having its garden enlarged, and Bacon was laying out the grounds of\nGray’s Inn, the Temple was not behind-hand. The accounts show constant\nrepairs and additions and buying of trees. The items for painting posts\nand rails are very frequent. Probably they do not always refer to\nouter palings, but it may be that the Tudor fashion of railing round\nthe beds, with a low trellis and posts at the angles, still prevailed.\nOne of the largest items of the expenses was for making “the pound” in\n1618. This, it is said, was a pond, but no record of digging it out, or\nfilling it with water occurs, while all the payments in connection with\nit went to painters or carpenters, and therefore it was more probably a\nkind of garden-house, much in f"} -{"id": 445, "text": "avour at that time, made by the wall, to\ncommand a view over the river. The chief items with regard to it are:--\n\n“1618, To John Fielde, the carpenter, for making ‘the pound’ in the\ngarden, £19.”\n\n“To Bowden, the painter, for stopping and ‘refreshing’ the rails in the\n‘wakes’ (walks), the posts, seats and balusters belonging to the same,\nand for stopping and finishing the ‘pound’ by the waterside, £9, 10s.”\n\nAgain in 1639 the entry certainly implies some kind of summer-house and\nnot “a pond”: “Edward Simmes, carpenter, for repairing ‘the pound’ and\nother seats in the garden and walks, &c., £15, 8s.” There must have\nbeen another summer-house at the same time, unless the sums paid to\na plasterer “for work done about the summer-house in the garden,” in\n1630, refers to the same “pound.”\n\nA great deal seems to have been done to the Garden during the first few\nyears of the Commonwealth, and large sums were expended in procuring\nnew gravel and turf: “392 loads of gravel at 2s. 6d. the load” i"} -{"id": 446, "text": "s one\nentry. But the chief work was the re-turfing. An arrangement was made,\nby payment of various small sums to the poor of Greenwich, to cut\n3000 turfs on Blackheath, and convey them in lighters to the Temple\nStairs. A second transaction procured them 2000 more, each turf being\na foot broad and a yard long. These amounts would cover a third of\nan acre with turf. The head gardeners seem to have been particularly\nunruly people. Although they remained in office many years, there were\nfrequent complaints. On one occasion this official had cut down trees,\nanother time he had the plague, and his house was frequented by rogues\nand beggars. At first the gardener’s house was on the present King’s\nBench Walk side of the Garden, near the river; later on, near where\nHarcourt Buildings are now. In 1690 the house, then in Middle Temple\nLane, was turned into an ale-house, and evidently none of the quietest,\nfor the occupier was forbidden to sell drink, and the “door out of the\ngardener’s lodge towa"} -{"id": 447, "text": "rds the water gate” was ordered to be bricked up,\nso as to prevent all the riffraff from the river rioting in his rooms.\nYet the post descended from father to son. In 1687 Thomas Elliott\nsucceeded his father, Seth Elliott, who had been there some years, and\nwhen in 1708 Charles Gardner had taken the second Elliott’s place, his\ndaughter Elizabeth’s name occurs as a recipient of money, and Elliott\nhimself received a pension of £20 a-year, although he was the culprit\nof the riotous ale-house. During the years succeeding the Restoration,\nthe Garden seems to have been little touched. The kitchen-garden would\nstill be maintained, and either it was farmed by the gardener, or its\nsupplies were inadequate, as on fast-days there was always a special\npayment to the gardener for vegetables. Such items as the following\nare of frequent occurrence: “Sallating for the hall in grass week,\nstrewings and ‘bow pots’ for the hall in Easter and Trinity terms.”\n\nThough the French fashions in gardening of Cha"} -{"id": 448, "text": "rles II.’s reign do not\nseem to have affected the Temple precincts, yet the Dutch influence\nthat came in with William and Mary made itself felt. A small garden\nwas specially set apart for the Benchers, and done up entirely in\nthe prevailing style. A piece of ground between King’s Bench Office\nand Serjeants’ Inn was made use of for this. It had been let to the\nAlienation Office, but after the Great Fire the Temple resumed the\ncontrol of it, and finally did it up and replanted it for the use of\nthe Benchers. It was known as the “Benchers’,” the “Little” or the\n“Privy” Garden, and great care, attention, and money were expended\non it. Turf, gravel, and plants were bought; a sun-dial put on\nthe wall; orange trees set out in tubs; and a fountain erected in\nthe middle. This fountain must have been the chief feature of the\nGarden, and from the immense amount of care it required to keep it\nin order, it seems that it was one of those elaborate “waterworks,”\nwithout which no garden was then compl"} -{"id": 449, "text": "ete. Such fountains were made\nwith secret arrangements for turning on the water, which dropped\nfrom birds’ bills, or spurted out of dolphins or such-like, with an\nunpleasant suddenness which gave the unwary visitor a shower-bath.\nOther fountains played tunes or set curious machinery in motion, or\notherwise surprised the beholder. From the descriptions, this one in\nthe Benchers’ Garden doubtless concealed some original variation. It\nconsisted of a lion’s face with a copper scallop shell, and a copper\ncherry-tree with branches, and perhaps the water dropped from the\nleaves. One payment in 1700 occurs for “a new scallop shell to the\nfountain, for a cock and a lion’s face to draw the water out of the\nfountain, and for keeping the fountain in repair, £12.” The copper\ncherry-tree was painted, and perhaps the Pegasus--the arms of the Inner\nTemple--figured in the strange medley, as the cost of painting the tree\nand “gilding the horse” are together paid to the man “Fowler,” who had\ncharge of th"} -{"id": 450, "text": "e fountain. The “best way to bring the water” had to be\ncarefully considered for these “waterworks” which Fowler was designing\nand carrying out, and it evidently was brought up to the pitch of\nperfection required of a fountain in those days. There was also a\nsummer-house with a paved floor, and an alcove with seats. Altogether,\neven without the glories of the strange fountain, the little enclosed\nDutch garden must have been an attractive place.\n\n[Illustration: THE INNER TEMPLE GARDEN]\n\nWhile the Benchers’ Garden was being made, the Great Garden was not\nneglected. Its form was altered to suit the prevailing taste. This\nremodelling must have begun in the winter of 1703, as it was then\nresolved that “the trees in the Great Garden be cut down, and the\nGarden to be put in the same model as the gardener hath proposed.” The\ndelightful terrace, which is still one of the most beautiful features\nin the Garden, existed before these alterations began, but the sun-dial\nwhich still adorns it was add"} -{"id": 451, "text": "ed during these changes. The payment for\nit was made to Strong, who was contractor for St. Paul’s under Wren:\n“To Edward Strong, for the pedestal for the dial in the Great Garden\nsteps, &c., £25.” The beautiful gates of wrought iron were put up in\n1730. The design shows the arms of Gray’s Inn, as well as the winged\nhorse of the Inner Temple, in compliment to the other learned society,\nits close ally. In the same way the Pegasus occurs at Gray’s Inn. It\nwas probably along this terrace that some of the orange trees in pots\nwere placed during the summer. The pots in which these oranges and\nother “greens” were grown seem to have been specially decorative. It\nwas a serious offence when Allgood, a member of the Inn, broke some,\nand was obliged to “furnish other pots of like fashion and value,”\notherwise he would “be put out of commons.” After this others were\npurchased, as the payment of £8 was made “for a large mould, carved\nin wood, for casting of earthen pots for the Garden”; and in other"} -{"id": 452, "text": "\nyears further similar expenses occur, one in 1690 “to the potter for\na large pot made for the Garden, painted in oil, £1, 5s.” Some of the\nplants grown would stand the winter in the open, but after the oranges\nmade their appearance a shelter had to be provided. Green-houses owed\ntheir origin to this necessity, and as they were only used in winter,\nand merely sheltered the large pots of “greens,” these green-houses or\norangeries were built like rooms, and used as summer-houses during warm\nmonths. All the larger gardens had their green-houses, but the smaller\nproprietors frequently sent their plants away to a nurseryman to be\nhoused during the winter. Even the “greens” at Kensington Palace were\nkept by London and Wise, until the new orangery was built. The Temple\norange trees were first sent to the house of Cadrow at Islington.\nIn 1704 the green-house seems to have been made, and used as a\ngarden-house in summer. Such items in the accounts as “a chimney-glass\nand sconces for the green-h"} -{"id": 453, "text": "ouse” show that it was in the usual solid\narchitectural style then in fashion. That the “panierman,” an officer,\none of whose duties was to summon members to meals by blowing a horn,\nwas appointed to take charge of it as well as of the library, is a\nfurther proof that it bore the character of a room, and was more or\nless outside the gardener’s department. The panierman also had the\ncare of the elaborate fountain, after it had been supervised for some\nyears by the maker. This green-house stood at the end of the terrace,\nwhich still runs parallel with Crown Office Row, and near the site of\nHarcourt Buildings, behind the gardener’s house. This gardener’s house\nwas pulled down two or three years later to make way for Harcourt\nBuildings, which was joined to the summer-house. The first or ground\nfloor opened on to the garden below the “paved walk” or terrace, on\nwhich level stood the summer-house.\n\nThe most fascinating feature of a garden ought to be its flowers,\nand of these also some parti"} -{"id": 454, "text": "culars can be gleaned from the accounts.\nThere is enough to show that the Temple Garden was quite up to date\nin its horticulture, and that it followed fashion as closely in its\nplants as in its design. It is not surprising to find Dutch bulbs, and\nespecially tulips, being bought when such a lover of those flowers\nas Sir Thomas Hanmer was a member. He was one of those who devoted\nmuch time to the culture of that flower, when the tulip mania was at\nits height, and raised new varieties, which were known by his name,\n“the agate Hanmer.” In 1703 the list of bulbs purchased is carefully\nnoted. There were “200 ‘junquiles’ at 6s. a hundred; for 200 tulips\nat 5s. a hundred; for 100 yellow Dutch crocus, for 50 Armathagalum.”\nThe spelling of “junquiles” is much more correct than our modern\n“jonquil,” and all the old writers would have written it so. Parkinson,\nin 1629, describes them as “Narcissus juncifolius” or the “Junquilia\nor Rush Daffodill”; but “Ornithogalum” was too much for the Temple\nsc"} -{"id": 455, "text": "ribe. The “Ornithogalum” or “Starre of Bethlehem,” and probably one\nof the rarer varieties, must be meant by “Armathagalum.” The Arabian\nvariety was then “nursed in gardens,” but it should be “housed all the\nwinter, that so it may bee defended from the frosts,” wrote Parkinson,\nand sadly admitted that the two roots sent to him “out of Spain” had\n“prospered not” “for want of knowledge” of this “rule.” There was also\nthe “Starre flower of Æthiopia,” which “was gathered by some Hollanders\non the West side of the Cape of Good Hope”; and this is more likely\nto have been the variety bought for the Temple with the other Dutch\nbulbs. Among the other purchases were various shrubs, on which the\ntopiary art was then commonly practised. There were “15 yew trees for\nthe Great Garden in pots, ... 4 box trees for the grass plots, ...\n12 striped ‘fillerayes’”--this latter being variegated phillyreas\n(most likely _angustifolia_), which were largely used for cutting\ninto quaint shapes. Another account i"} -{"id": 456, "text": "s for “28 standard laurels, 4\n‘perimic’ (laurels), 6 junipers, 4 hollies, and 2 perimic box trees.”\nThese “perimetric” trees had already gone through the necessary\nclipping and training, to enable them to take their place in the trim\nDutch garden. Another year flowering shrubs are got for the Benchers’\nGarden: “2 messerius at 2s., and 2 lorrestines at 2s.” The _Daphne\nmezereum_ had been a favourite in English gardens from the earliest\ntimes, and the laurestinus (_Viburnum tinus_) came from South Europe in\nthe sixteenth century. Parkinson, the most attractive of all the old\ngardening authors, has a delightfully true description of the “Laurus\nTinus,” with its “many small white sweete-smelling flowers thrusting\ntogether, ... the edges whereof have a shew of a wash purple or light\nblush in them; which for the most part fall away without bearing any\nperfect ripe fruit in our countrey: yet sometimes it hath small black\nberries, as if they were good, but are not”! Fruit-trees were also\nto be"} -{"id": 457, "text": " found--peaches, “nectrons,” cherries, and plums, besides figs\nand mulberries. That the walls were covered with climbing roses and\njessamine is certain, from the oft-recurring cost of nailing them up.\n“Nails and list for the jessamy wall,” and the needful bits of old felt\nrequired to fasten them up, was another time supplied by “hatt parings\nfor the jessamines.”\n\nThus it is easy, bit by bit, out of the old accounts, to piece together\nthe Garden, until the mind’s eye can see back into the days of Queen\nAnne, and take an imaginary walk through it on a fine spring evening.\nThe Bencher walks out of the large window of the “green-house” on to\nthe terrace, where the sun-dial points the hour: the orange trees,\nglossy and fresh from their winter quarters, stand in stiff array, in\nthe large artistic pots. Down the steps, a few stiff beds are bright\nwith Dutch bulbs in flower. The turf, well rolled (for a new stone\nroller has just been purchased), stretches down to the river between\nstraight lin"} -{"id": 458, "text": "es of quaintly cut box, yews, and hollies. He sees Surrey\nhills clear in the early evening light, and the barges sail by, and\nboats pass up and down the river. He may linger on one of the seats\nin the garden-house overlooking the river, or wander back under the\nstately elms of King’s Bench Walk, to rest awhile in the Privy Garden,\nwhere the air is scented with mezereum, and cooled by the drops that\nfall from the metal leaves hanging over the basin of the fountain.\n\nThe Middle Temple, too, had its Benchers’ Garden, and part of it\nsurvives to this day in the delightful Fountain Court. The Benchers’\nGarden was larger, covering the ground where Garden Court now stands,\nup to the wall of the famous gardens of Essex House. A garden covered\nthe space where the library has been built, and the terrace and steps\nin front of the fountain reached right across to the Essex House\nwall. Below the beautiful old hall which Queen Elizabeth opened in\nperson, and where Shakespeare’s contemporaries witness"} -{"id": 459, "text": "ed “Twelfth\nNight,” lay the rest of the Garden, with green lawns and shady trees\ndown the water’s edge. The fountain, once the glory of the Benchers’\nprivate garden, is still one of the most delightful in all London. Sir\nChristopher Hatton, whose garden of Ely Place--wrung by Queen Elizabeth\nfrom the unwilling Bishop--was not far off, was an admirer of the\nMiddle Temple fountain. It was kept, he says, “in so good order as\nalways to force its stream to a vast and almost incredible altitude.\nIt is fenced with timber palisades, constituting a quadrangle, wherein\ngrow several lofty trees, and without are walks extending on every\nside of the quadrangle, all paved with Purbeck, very pleasant and\ndelightful.” In an eighteenth-century picture, with groups of strollers\nand a lady passing the gay company in her sedan chair, the palings are\nsuperseded by fine iron railings enclosing the lofty jet, its marble\nbasin, and shady trees. The pavement ended with the terrace wall\noverlooking the garden b"} -{"id": 460, "text": "elow, and the Thames covered at high tide what\nis now the lower part of the lawn. The Fountain Court has inspired\nmany a thought which has found expression in prose and verse, but no\npicture is more vivid or well known than the figure of Ruth Pinch, in\n“Martin Chuzzlewit,” waiting for her brother “with the best little\nlaugh upon her face that ever played in opposition to the fountain,”\nor the description at the end, of that crowning day to her happiness,\nwhen she walks there with John Westlock, and “Brilliantly the Temple\nFountain splashed in the sun, and laughingly its liquid music played,\nand merrily the idle drops of water danced and danced, and peeping out\nin sport among the trees, plunged lightly down to hide themselves,\nas little Ruth and her companion came towards it.” The fountain has\nsuffered some modernising changes since Dickens wrote those lines; but\nin spite of them there is still music in its sound, which calls up\ndreams of other ages and of brighter gardens as it tosses "} -{"id": 461, "text": "its spray\ninto the murky air.\n\n “Away in the distance is heard the vast sound\n From the streets of the city that compass it round,\n Like the echo of mountains or ocean’s deep call:\n Yet that fountain’s low singing is heard over all.”\n\n --MISS LANDON.\n\nOf all the incidents that are associated with particular places, none\nstands out more vividly than the scene told by Shakespeare, of the\nfirst beginning to the Wars of the Roses in the Temple Garden.\n\n[Illustration: THE FOUNTAIN COURT, MIDDLE TEMPLE]\n\nRichard Plantagenet, with the Earls of Somerset, Suffolk, and Warwick,\nVernon, and a lawyer, enter the Temple Garden (“Henry VI.” Pt. I. Act\n2, sc. iv.).\n\n _Suffolk._ Within the Temple Hall we were too loud;\n The garden here is more convenient.\n\n _Plantagenet._ Then say at once if I maintained the truth,\n Or else was wrangling Somerset in the error?\n\n * * * * "} -{"id": 462, "text": " *\n\n\nThe direct answer being evaded, Plantagenet continues--\n\n Since you are tongue-tied and so loath to speak,\n In dumb significants proclaim your thoughts;\n Let him that is a true-born gentleman,\n And stands upon the honour of his birth,\n If he suppose that I have pleaded truth,\n From off this brier pluck a white rose with me.\n\n _Somerset._ Let him that is no coward nor no flatterer,\n But dare maintain the party of the truth,\n Pluck a red rose from off this thorn with me.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _Warwick._ I pluck this white rose with Plantagenet.\n\n _Suffolk._ I pluck this red rose with young Somerset.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _Vernon._ I pluck this pale and maiden blossom here,\n Giving my verdict on the white rose side.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _Lawyer_ (t"} -{"id": 463, "text": "o _Somerset_) ... The argument you held was wrong in you,\n In sign whereof I pluck a white rose too.\n\n _Plan._ Now, Somerset, where is your argument?\n\n _Som._ Here, in my scabbard, meditating that\n Shall dye your white rose in a bloody red.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _Plan._ Hath not thy rose a canker, Somerset?\n\n _Som._ Hath not thy rose a thorn, Plantagenet?\n\n _Plan._ Ay, sharp and piercing to maintain his truth;\n Whiles thy consuming canker eats his falsehood.\n\n _Som._ Well, I’ll find friends to wear my bleeding roses,\n That shall maintain what I have said is true.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _Warwick._ And here I prophesy this brawl to-day,\n Grown to this faction in the Temple-garden,\n Shall send between the red rose and the white\n A thousand souls to death and deadly night.\n\nWith such a"} -{"id": 464, "text": " tradition the Temple Garden should never be without its\nroses. They are one of those friendly plants which will do their best\nto fight against fog and smoke, and flower boldly for two or three\nyears in succession: so a supply of red and white, and the delightful\n_Rosa mundi_, the “York and Lancaster,” could without much difficulty\nbe seen there every summer. Certainly some of the finest roses in\nexistence have been in the Temple Gardens, as the Flower Shows, which\nare looked forward to by all lovers of horticulture, have for many\nyears been permitted to take place in these historic grounds. How\nastonished those adherents of the red or white roses would have been\nto see the colours, shades, and forms which the descendants of those\nbriars now produce. The Plantagenet Garden would not contain many\nvarieties, although every known one was cherished in every garden,\nas roses have always been first favourites. Besides the briars, dog\nroses, and sweet briars, there was the double white and do"} -{"id": 465, "text": "uble red, a\nvariety of _Rosa gallica_. Many so-called old-fashioned roses, such\nas the common monthly roses, came to England very much later, and\nthe vast number of gorgeous hybrids are absolutely new. Elizabethan\ngardens had a fair show of roses with centifolia, including moss and\nProvence roses, and York and Lancaster, _Rosa lutea_, musk, damask,\nand cinnamon roses in several varieties; and as the old records show,\nthe Temple Garden was well supplied with roses. All these probably\nflourished there in the days of Shakespeare, and would readily suggest\nthe scene he immortalised.\n\nAmong the spirits that haunt the Temple Garden, there is none that\nseems to cling to it more than that of Charles Lamb. It should be a\npride of these peaceful gardens that they helped to mould that lovable\nand unselfish character. A schoolfellow, who describes his ways as a\nboy at Christ’s Hospital, recalls how all his young days were spent in\nthe solemn surrounding of the Temple, and how, while at school, “On"} -{"id": 466, "text": "\nevery half holiday (and there were two in the week), in ten minutes he\nwas in the gardens, on the terrace, or at the fountain of the Temple.\nHere was his home, here his recreation; and the influence they had\non his infant mind is vividly shown in his description of the old\nBenchers.”\n\n“Shadows we are and like shadows depart,” suggests the sun-dial on the\nwall of Pump Court, but shadows of such gentle spirits as Charles Lamb\nleave something behind, and those “footprints on the sands of time” are\nnowhere more traceable than in these solemn precincts of law with their\nquiet, restful gardens.\n\nThe attractions of the Temple are so great, one feels loth to cross\nthe noisy thoroughfare and plunge through the traffic till the stately\nold gateway out of Chancery Lane, on which Ben Jonson is said to have\nworked, affords an opening towards the spacious gardens of Lincoln’s\nInn.\n\nLincoln’s Inn Gardens have a special claim to antiquity as they are\npartly on the site of the famous garden of the Ear"} -{"id": 467, "text": "l of Lincoln, of\nwhich some of the accounts are preserved in a splendid big old manor\nroll now at the Record Office. It is supposed that at his death in\n1311, Henry de Lacy, Earl of Lincoln, assigned these lands to the\n“Professors of the Law as a residence.” Additions were made later from\nthe ground belonging to the Bishop of Chichester, round the palace\nwhich Ralph Neville had built in 1228. Part of the site was the “coney\ngarth,” which belonged to one William Cotterell, and hence is often\nmentioned as “Cotterell’s Garden.” Garden of course only meant a garth\nor yard, and though the name now signifies an enclosure for plants, in\nearly times other enclosures were common. There was the “grass yard”\nor lawn, the “cook’s garth” or kitchen-garden, and “coney garth” where\nrabbits were kept, as well as the “wyrt yard” or plant yard, the “ort\nyard” or orchard, apple yard, cherry yard, and so on. The coney garth\nwas not a mere name, but was well stocked with game, and even at a\nmuch later date"} -{"id": 468, "text": ", from Edward IV. to Henry VIII., there were various\nordinances in force for punishing law students who hunted rabbits with\nbows and arrows or darts.\n\n[Illustration: LINCOLN’S INN]\n\nIn the first year of Queen Elizabeth the Garden was separated from the\nfields by a clay embankment, and a little later a brick wall was added,\nwith a gate into the fields, which is probably the same as the present\nlittle gate to the north of the new hall, at the end of the border,\nshown in the illustration. The Garden continued much further along the\nwall then, and only was curtailed when the new hall and library were\nbuilt in 1843. The delightful terrace which is raised against the wall\noverlooking the “fields” was made in 1663. On June 27th of that year,\nPepys, who on other occasions mentions his walks there with his\nwife, went to see the alterations. “So to Lincoln’s Inne, and there\nwalked up and down to see the new garden which they are making, and\nwill be very pretty.” The outside world seems to have h"} -{"id": 469, "text": "ad easy access\nto the gardens of all the Inns of Court in those days, but it was\nregarded as a special privilege granted to a very wide circle, and\na favour not accorded to the public at large. In the _Tatler_ occur\nsuch passages as, “I went into Lincoln’s Inn walks, and having taken\na round or two I sat down according to the allowed familiarity of\nthese places.” Again, “I was last week taking a solitary walk in the\ngarden of Lincoln’s Inn, a favour that is indulged me by several of the\nbenchers who are my intimate friends.”\n\nThey were, however, so much frequented by all the fashionable world\nof London, that the foreigner arriving there naturally took them for\npublic gardens. Mr. Grosley, who came to London in 1765, thus describes\nthem:--\n\n“Besides St. James’s Park, the Green Park, and Hyde Park, the two last\nof which are continuations of the first, which, like the Tuileries\nat Paris, lie at the extremity of the metropolis, London has several\npublic walks, which are much more agreeable"} -{"id": 470, "text": " to the English, as they are\nless frequented and more solitary than the Park. Such are the gardens\ncontained within the compass of the Temple, of Gray’s Inn and Lincoln’s\nInn. They consist of grass plots, which are kept in excellent order,\nand planted with trees, either cut regularly, or with high stocks: some\nof them have a part laid out for culinary uses. The grass plots of the\ngardens at Lincoln’s Inn are adorned with statues, which, taken all\ntogether, form a scene very pleasing to the eye.”\n\nThe students must certainly have aimed at keeping their gardens from\nthe vulgar gaze, and showed their displeasure at some one who had built\na house with windows overlooking the Garden in 1632 in an uproarious\nmanner. They flung brickbats at the offending window until “one out of\nthe house discharged haile shot upon Mr. Attornie’s sonne’s face, which\nthough by good chance it missed his eyes yet it pitifully mangled his\nvisage.”\n\nOld maps of the gardens show a wall dividing the large upper gard"} -{"id": 471, "text": "en\nfrom the smaller, but by 1772 the partition had disappeared. It was\ndoubtless unnecessary when the terrace was made and the rabbits done\naway with.\n\nThe 1658 map with the wall in it shows the upper garden intersected by\nfour paths, and an avenue of trees round three sides, and the small\ngarden with a single row of trees round it divided into two large grass\nplots. The lovely shady avenue below the terrace in the large garden\nhas still a great charm, and although not so extensive as it once was,\nthe great green-sward and walks seem very spacious in these days of\ncrowding. The terrace overlooking Lincoln’s Inn Fields, with the broad\nwalk and border of suitable old-fashioned herbaceous plants, has great\nattractions. The view from here must have improved since the days when\nthe Fields were a wild-looking place of evil repute, and the scene of\nbloody executions. In the lonely darkness below the terrace wall, deeds\nof violence were only too common.\n\n “Though thou are tempted by the li"} -{"id": 472, "text": "nkman’s call,\n Yet trust him not along the lonely wall.\n In the mid-way he’ll quench the flaming brand,\n And share the booty with the pilfering band.”\n\n --GAY.\n\nCertainly when one is sentimental over the departed charms of Old\nLondon, it would be an excellent antidote to call up some of the\ninconveniences that electric light and the metropolitan police have\nbanished.\n\nThere is more character about the gardens of Gray’s Inn than either\nthe Temple or Lincoln’s Inn. They have come down with but little\nalteration from the hands of that great lover of gardens, Bacon.\nBut long before his time gardens existed. The land on which Gray’s\nInn stands formed part of a prebend of St. Paul’s of the manor of\nPortpoole, and subsequently belonged to the family of Grey de Wilton,\nand in the fourteenth century the Inn of Court was established. Between\nits grounds and the villages of Highgate and Hampstead was an unbroken\nstretch of open country."} -{"id": 473, "text": " There, in Mary’s reign, Henry Lord Berkeley\nused daily to hunt “in Gray’s Inne fields and in those parts towards\nIslington and Heygate with his hounds,” and in his company were “many\ngentlemen of the Innes of Court and others of lower condition ... and\n150 servants in livery that daily attended him in their tawny coates.”\nIn Bacon’s time it must still have been as open, and Theobald’s Road\na country lane with hedgerows. The Garden already boasted of fine\ntrees, and among the records of the Society there is a list of the\nelms in 1583 all carefully enumerated, and the exact places they were\ngrowing: “In the grene Courte xi Elmes and iii Walnut trees,” and so\non. Eighty-seven elms, besides four young elms and one young ash,\nappear on the list; so the Garden was well furnished with trees even\nbefore Bacon commenced his work. Gray’s Inn was the most popular of\nthe four Inns of Court in the Elizabethan period, and many famous men,\nsuch as Lord Burghley, belonged to it. It was in 1597 that B"} -{"id": 474, "text": "acon\ntook the Garden in hand, some ten years after he became a Bencher. In\nthe accounts of that year £7. 15s. 4d. appears “due to Mr. Bacon for\nplanting of trees in the walkes.” In 1598 it was resolved to “supply\nmore yonge elme trees in the places of such as are decayed, and that a\nnew Rayle and quicksett hedge be sett upon the upper long walke at the\ngood discretion of Mr. Bacon, and Mr. Wilbraham, soe that the charges\nthereof doe not exceed the sum of seventy pounds.” On 29th April\n1600, £60. 6s. 8d. was paid to “Mr. Bacon for money disbursed about\ngarnishing of the walkes.”\n\nBacon’s own ideas of what a garden should be are so delightfully set\nforth in his essay on gardens, that the whole as it left his hand\nis not difficult to imagine. The fair alleys, the great hedge, were\nessentials, and the green, “because nothing is more pleasant to the eye\nthan green grass kept finely shorn.” His list of plants which bloom\nin all the months of the year was compiled of those specially suited\n“f"} -{"id": 475, "text": "or the Climate of London,” so no doubt some would be included in this\nGarden under his eye, although they do not appear in the records. He\nwished “also in the very middle a fair mount,” and even this desire\nhe carried out in Gray’s Inn. In a description of the Garden as late\nas 1761, a summer-house which Bacon put up in 1609 to the memory of\nhis friend Jeremiah Bettenham is mentioned as only recently destroyed.\n“Till lately,” it says, “there was a summer-house erected by the great\nSir Francis Bacon upon a small mount: it was open on all sides, and the\nroof supported by slender pillars. A few years ago the uninterrupted\nprospect of the neighbouring fields, as far as the hills of Highgate\nand Hampstead, was obstructed by a handsome row of houses on the\nnorth; since which the above summer-house has been levelled, and many\ntrees cut down to lay the Garden more open.” The view, even then, was\nfairly open, as Sir Samuel Romilly, in 1780, complains of the cold, as\nthere was “only one row of h"} -{"id": 476, "text": "ouses” between him and Hampstead, and “a\nnorth-west wind blows full against” his chambers. This “most gallant\nprospect into the country, and its beautiful walks” were the great\nattractions of these Gardens. They appear to have been one of the most\nfashionable walks, especially on Sundays. Pepys was frequently there,\nand his diary records, several times, that he went to morning church,\nthen had dinner, then to church again, and after went for a walk in\nGray’s Inn. That he met there “great store of gallants,” or “saw many\nbeauties,” is the usual comment after a visit. On one occasion, he\ntook his wife there to “observe the fashions of the ladies,” because\nshe was “making some clothes.” The walks and trees are redolent with\nassociations, and the Gardens, though curtailed, have much the same\nappearance as of yore. When a portion of the ground was sacrificed to\nthe new buildings, those who loved the Garden deeply bewailed. “Those\naccursed Verulam Buildings,” wrote Charles Lamb, recalling hi"} -{"id": 477, "text": "s early\nwalks in Gray’s Inn Gardens, “had not encroached upon all the east side\nof them, cutting out delicate green crankles, and shouldering away\none of two stately alcoves of the terrace. The survivor stands gaping\nand relationless, as if it remembered its brother. They are still\nthe best gardens of any of the Inns of Court--my beloved Temple not\nforgotten--have the gravest character, their aspect being altogether\nreserved and law-breathing. Bacon has left the impress of his foot\nupon their gravel walks.”\n\nAfter such a delightful summary of their charms it seems cruel to\ntry and dispel one of their most treasured traditions--namely, that\nBacon planted the catalpa. It is a splendid and venerable tree, and\nthere is no wish to pull it from its proud position of the first\ncatalpa planted, and the finest in existence in this country; but it\nis hard to believe that Bacon planted it, in the light of the history\nof the plant. There is no mention of a catalpa in any of the earlier\nwriters--Ge"} -{"id": 478, "text": "rard did not know it, and it is not in the later edition of\nhis work by Thomas Johnson, in 1633, or in Parkinson’s “Paradisus,”\nin 1629, or in Evelyn’s “Sylva,” in 1664, all published after Bacon’s\ndeath.\n\nThe tree was first described by Catesby in his “Natural History of\nCarolina,” a splendid folio which appeared in 1731. There it is classed\nas _Bignonia urucu foliis_, or _Catalpa_, as it was not until later\nthat Jussieu separated the genus _Catalpa_. He says the tree was not\nknown to the inhabitants of Carolina till the seeds “were brought there\nfrom the remoter parts of the country,” “and though the inhabitants are\nlittle curious in gardening, the uncommon beauty of this tree induced\nthem to propagate it, and it is become an ornament to many of their\ngardens, and probably will be the same to ours in England, it being as\nhardy as most of our American plants: many of them, now at Mr. Bacon’s,\nat Hoxton, having stood out several winters without any protection,\nexcept the first year.” H"} -{"id": 479, "text": "oxton was then a place famous for its nursery\ngardens. In 1767, in Catesby’s volume on the trees of North America,\nhe gives the same story, and adds, “in August 1748” it produced, “at\nMr. Gray’s, such numbers of blossoms, that the leaves were almost hid\nthereby.” This Mr. Gray owned the nurseries in Brompton, famous under\nthe management of London and Wise.\n\nIn Philip Miller’s dictionary, Catesby’s history of the plant is\nreferred to, and also in 1808, in the _Botanical Magazine_, when the\nplant was figured. There it says the plant “has been long an inhabitant\nof our gardens, being introduced by the same Botanist [Catesby] about\nthe year 1728.” “It bears the smoke of large towns better than most\ntrees; the largest specimen we have ever seen grows in the garden\nbelonging to the Society of Gray’s Inn.” There is no hint that the\ntree in question could have been here before Catesby’s discovery, and\nit is not till Loudon’s Encyclopædia in 1822 that the planting is\nattributed to Bacon. Such a"} -{"id": 480, "text": " remarkable tree could hardly have escaped\nall gardeners for more than a century, during a time when gardening\nwas greatly in fashion, and every new plant greedily sought after. We\nknow that nearly a hundred years ago this specimen was the finest in\nEngland, and therefore it may have been planted not more than a hundred\nyears or so after Bacon’s death. Raleigh very likely walked with Bacon\non the spot where it now stands, but, alas! the possibility that he\nbrought Bacon a tree from Virginia, which was only discovered near the\nMississippi a century later, is hardly credible.\n\nThe entrance to the Gardens on the Holborn side is through massive\nwrought-iron gates, on which the date 1723 is legible. The letters\n“W. I. G.” are the initials of the Treasurer during whose tenure of\noffice they were erected, the “T” above standing for Treasurer. In\nthe Inns of Chancery a “P” for Principal, associated with the various\ninitials, is often to be noticed. These fine gates are a charming\napproach to t"} -{"id": 481, "text": "he sequestered walks and ancient trees. Gray’s Inn Gardens\nhave another delightful speciality, in that the rooks delight to honour\nthem by building there. They have a warm welcome, and good food in cold\nweather, and seem likely to remain. Looking through the lofty iron\ngates, the rooks’ nests are seen, and the pleasant cawing sound adds\ngreatly to the attraction of the place.\n\n[Illustration: THE GARDEN GATES, GRAY’S INN]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\nHISTORICAL GARDENS\n\n _History is philosophy teaching by examples._\n\n --BOLINGBROKE.\n\n\nAlthough their number has sadly diminished of late years, London still\nhas a few spaces remaining which may be classed as gardens. Often they\nare merely green patches of a formal type, which are better suited to\nthe present climate than attempts at flowers; but a few regular gardens\nstill exist, bringing dreams of a former period. In St. Bartholomew’s\nHospital, the oldest of all such institutions, the square, with a\nhand"} -{"id": 482, "text": "some fountain in the centre, is more what one expects to find in\nItaly than in Smithfield. It is this sort of surprise that makes the\ncharm of London, and renders a wander through its mazes so attractive.\nWhat a contrast the walk of a few minutes can bring in the heart of\nLondon! but of all these changes none is more impressive than the\nhush of the Charterhouse after the rush of Aldermanbury or the noise\nof Clerkenwell. There is still lingering there the touch of the old\nmonastery; a breath of a bygone age seems to pervade the courtyards and\ngateways, and something in the silence speaks of another world. The\nfirst indication of its hidden green courts are the mulberry leaves\npeeping over the worn stone wall, near the gateway which leads to the\nweathered archway, the entrance of the old Carthusian monastery. This\nis the very spot where, with the brutal severity of Tudor times, the\narm of the last Prior was exposed after his cruel execution at Tyburn.\nThe monastery, founded in 1371, was "} -{"id": 483, "text": "dissolved with unusual barbarity,\nand passed into secular hands. The possession of it by the Duke of\nNorfolk has left its mark in many of the existing buildings, as he\nconverted it from a cloister to a palace, but its palatial days did not\nlast long. It was bought by the benevolent Thomas Sutton, a portion\nof whose large fortune, amassed from profitably working coal mines,\nwas bestowed in founding “a hospital for poor brethren and scholars.”\nThe scholars have been taken away from the historical associations,\nto the purer air of Godalming, and the parts of the buildings devoted\nto their accommodation were in 1872 bought by the Merchants Taylors’\nCompany for their school. The playing field of the boys is the ample\nspace which was enclosed by the cloister of the monastery. Part of the\nland to the north has been built over, and a tall warehouse overlooks\nthe burying-ground of the monks, which is still a large green sward\nof hallowed ground, with a row of mulberries. This lies so far below\n"} -{"id": 484, "text": "the level of Clerkenwell Road that a flight of steps leads to the\npostern gate in the high wall, overhung with climbing plants. This\n“God’s acre” is covered with smooth turf, and some day the two walnut\ntrees planted by the master in 1901 may afford grateful shade. It is\nin keeping with the spirit of the place to plant trees of such slow\nand stately growth. The Preachers’ Court and the smaller Pensioners’\nCourt are like college quadrangles, with that perfect turf that England\nalone produces. The smooth surface is broken only by the regular\nintersecting gravel paths, and one row of mulberry trees some seventy\nyears old. The red-brick buildings have a venerable appearance,\nalthough they do not carry the weight of centuries with dignity, like\nthe “Wash-house Court,” the hall, the library, or the brick cloister,\nand the delightful old walls with their deliciously-scented fig-trees.\nThe whole place has a mediæval look and feeling, and teems with ghosts\nand recollections of the monks of the "} -{"id": 485, "text": "early peaceful days, and their\ncourageous successors at the Dissolution. The pious founder, as the\nchorus of the old Carthusian melody says, must not be forgotten:--\n\n “Then blessed be the memory\n Of good old Thomas Sutton,\n Who gave us lodging, learning,\n As well as beef and mutton.”\n\nOf the shades which surround these peaceful green courts none appear\nmore real than that of Colonel Newcome. The guardian will point out the\nroom in which he died, or his pew in the chapel, as if he belonged to\nhistory as much as Wray, who bequeathed the old books in the “Officers’\nLibrary,” or any of the well-known pensioners. With such true and\npathetic touches has Thackeray drawn the character of Colonel Newcome\nthat fiction has here become entwined round the walls almost as closely\nas fact.\n\nFurther eastward is an open piece of ground, which is hardly a garden;\nbut as it is green, and took the place of what was known as the\nArtillery Garden, it may claim a moment’s consideration. P"} -{"id": 486, "text": "ush open\na door in the modern-looking castellated building in the City Road\nnear Bunhill Fields, and a large, quiet, open space is discovered. Old\nguns look inoffensively down on a wide square of green turf. This is\nthe home of the Honourable Artillery Company, the descendants of the\n“Trained Bands” of citizens, first enrolled in 1585 in the fear of\na Spanish invasion. They have been here since 1622, when they moved\nfrom near Bishopsgate Without. “Artillery Garden,” or Teazel Close or\nGarden, was the name of the older place, from the teazel grown there\nfor the cloth workers.\n\n “Teazel of ground we enlarge St. Mary’s Spittle,\n Trees cut down, and gardens added to it,\n Thanks to the lords that gave us leave to do it,”\n\nsays an old poem. The existing Artillery Ground was a great place for\ncricket matches, where county met county in the eighteenth century. It\nwas here that a vast crowd witnessed the first balloon ever launched\ninto the air in England, sent up by Count Zambecc"} -{"id": 487, "text": "ari in 1783. The next\nyear, from the same place, Lunardi was more ambitious, and actually\nwent up in his balloon. It proved too small for the friend who was\nready to risk his life in his company, so he took a dog, a cat, and a\npigeon with him instead.\n\nPassing on into the City, the remains of the once extensive Drapers’\nGarden is met with.[10] Only a small piece, seen from the street\nthrough iron railings, and approached through the hall, has been\nretained; a few trees and bright flowers survive of what was once a\nfashionable and much sought after resort.\n\n[Illustration: TRINITY ALMSHOUSES, MILE END ROAD]\n\nMost of the other patches of green in the City are disused\nburial-grounds, and are considered in a chapter by themselves. Beyond\nthe City, on the east, in the Mile End Road, is the quiet old Trinity\nHospital. It stands on the north of that wide road, which might be\nmade one of the most beautiful entrances to the City. The simple good\ntaste of these delightful old almshouses is a grea"} -{"id": 488, "text": "t contrast to some\nof the surroundings. They were probably designed by John Evelyn,\nwith the assistance of Wren. His father-in-law, Sir Richard Browne,\nfounded and built very similar almshouses at Deptford, long since\nswept away. Of these Evelyn writes, “It was a good and charitable\nwork and gift, but would have been better bestowed on the poor of\nthat parish than on seamen’s widows, the Trinity Company being very\nrich, and the rest of the poor of the parish exceedingly indigent.”\nIn spite of these sentiments, he is believed to have had a hand in\nthe Mile End Almshouses, which were founded by Captain Henry Mudd of\nRatcliffe, Captain Sandes or Sanders, and Captain Maples. The two last\nare remembered by statues still standing in the little formal gardens.\nMaples, who appears in the dress of a naval officer of the period, left\na fortune for the use of the guild in diamonds, collected in India,\nwhere he was an early pioneer, and where he died in 1680. A similar\nendowment in Hull is describ"} -{"id": 489, "text": "ed in a poem in 1662:--\n\n “It is a comely built, well-ordered place,\n But that which most of all the house doth grace\n Are rooms for widowes, who are old and poore,\n And have been wives to mariners before.”\n\nCertainly Trinity Hospital, Mile End, is comely and well ordered. The\npensioners take a pride in keeping every nook and corner scrupulously\nclean. Everything is, in fact, in “ship-shape” order. The grass is\nneatly mown, the trees on either side well trimmed and clipped. Outside\neach little house a few plants are carefully tended, the pots arranged\nwith precision, and every flower looked after with pride. It is indeed\na peaceful place for these old people to pass their declining years\nin, and the sight makes the regret for St. Katharine’s and the other\nvanished charitable buildings all the more keen.\n\nThe site of another benevolent institution near is fulfilling a useful\nand delightful task, although the old houses attached to it have\ndisappeared. It was a row of "} -{"id": 490, "text": "almshouses founded by a member of the\nBrewers’ Company, named Baker, about 150 years ago, for widows. The\ngarden was much too large for these decrepid old women to cultivate,\nso the place was taken in hand some twenty-five years ago by the Rev.\nSidney Vatcher, who built the beautiful church of St. Philip, Stepney,\nhard by, and he became the tenant of the Brewers’ Company. This\ncharming garden was at first more or less opened by him to the parish,\nbut lately it has been put to the most suitable use of giving a quiet\nplace for rest and recreation to the nurses of the London Hospital. The\nalmshouses were pulled down about four years ago, to make way for the\nlaundries of the Hospital. Here, indeed, is one of those sudden and\nsurprising contrasts to be found in London. A high brick wall encloses\nthis oasis, and the nurses and some privileged people have keys to the\ndoor, which opens, from a side street close to the noise of the Mile\nEnd Road, suddenly into a peaceful, picturesque garden. Th"} -{"id": 491, "text": "e idea in\nthe formation was a willow-pattern plate, and the little bridge over\na miniature stream is reproduced. Plane trees in a formal array are\nkept trimmed to give a dense shade, and the hammocks hung from them in\nsummer provide the most ideal resting-places for the worn-out nurses.\nAt one time animals were kept here in cages, as a kind of small “Zoo”\nfor Whitechapel; but since the last alterations the animals have been\nrelinquished, and the bear-pit makes a delightful rock garden, and\nthe various other cages form summer-houses. One thoughtful addition\nof the vicar was placing a small stove in one of these shelters, with\nan array of kettles, teapots, cups and saucers, so that any of the\nnurses resting can have their _al fresco_ cup of tea--and what could\nbe more grateful and comforting? A French writer who recently gave her\nimpressions of L’Ile Inconnue was charmed with the peace and repose\nof this little East End Paradise. After seeing the Hospital and all\nits wonderful appliances"} -{"id": 492, "text": ", “You will now see our Eden,” said the guide.\n“Ici! l’Eden! m’écriai-je, après le péché alors!” Then, when she had\nfor a moment looked within those mysterious high walls, “N’avais-je pas\nraison d’appeler ce jardin l’Eden?” said the friend. “Oui, repondis-je,\nc’est l’Eden après la Rédemption.” Certainly any one who sees this\nlittle garden, and realises the devoted lives of those who made it and\nthose who enjoy it, must agree with this writer.\n\nIt is not often that, when the old almshouses vanish, the neighbourhood\nbenefits to such an extent. What will be the fate of the Ironmongers’\nAlmshouses in Kingsland Road, between Shoreditch and Dalston? A large\nboard in the garden that fronts the street announces the site is for\nsale!\n\nThe Foundling Hospital has large green courts, on which the merry but\nsombrely-clad little children are seen running about, through the\nfine iron gates which face Guildford Street. This was founded in 1739\nby Captain Thomas Coram, who gave so much of his wealth to"} -{"id": 493, "text": " objects\nof charity and philanthropy that a subscription had to be raised to\nsupport him in his old age. Theodore Jacobson (died 1772) was the\narchitect of the building. A colonnade runs round the whole length of\nthe forecourt up to the gates, part of which is used as laundries, or\nother things necessary to the institution. A writer in 1773 describes\nthe “large area between the gates and the hospital” as “adorned with\ngrass plats, gravel walks, and lamps erected upon handsome posts:\nbeside which there are two convenient gardens,” and exactly the same\ndescription holds good to-day. Brunswick Square lies to the west, and\nMecklenburgh Square to the east, so the Hospital grounds are still\nairy. There is a small garden at the back of the building in front of\nthe Infirmary; on the east is the Treasurer’s Garden, a fair-sized\nenclosure, and on the other side, with the poplars growing in Brunswick\nSquare overhanging it, lies the other and larger of the two “convenient\ngardens.” There is nothin"} -{"id": 494, "text": "g old-fashioned or attractive in these gardens\nleft; merely a green lawn, a weeping ash, and a few commonplace\n“bedding-out” plants; not altogether in keeping with the age or dignity\nof the building and spacious forecourt.\n\nLess well known is the delightful Garden of the Grey-coat School\nin Westminster. Most of the old foundations in Westminster have\nvanished, such as Emanuel Hospital and the “Blue-coat School,” which\ndisappeared a few years ago, but so far this charming old house has\nbeen respected. Quaint figures of the children in the dress of the\ntime--it was founded by the citizens of Westminster in 1698--stand\non either side of the entrance. The children from the parishes of\nSt. Margaret and St. John the Evangelist, who have attended the\nelementary schools for three years, are eligible for admission, up\nto the age of ten. The school was reconstituted as a day school for\n300 girls in 1873, and, in spite of all educational vicissitudes,\nhas been allowed to survive, and the sweet an"} -{"id": 495, "text": "d wholesome influence\nof those old-fashioned surroundings would be a great loss, should\nit ever be swept away. The Garden is delightful. It is practical as\nwell as ornamental, as it furnishes the staff of teachers with a good\nsupply of vegetables. They have each a small flower-bed too, tended\nwith great care, and the children are allowed a place of their own,\nwhere they work, dig, and plant. Down the centre runs a wide gravel\nwalk, with a deep herbaceous border along either side, sweet-scented\npinks and low-growing plants near the front, then a long row of\nspiderwort, and behind that a regiment of magnificent hollyhocks. The\nspiderwort or Tradescantia is a flower eminently suited to London\ngardens, not only because it seems to withstand any amount of smoke\nand bad air, but because of its association with the famous garden\nin Lambeth, where it was first grown. Parkinson, in 1629, gives the\nhistory of his friend’s introduction of the plant. “The Spiderwort,”\nhe writes, “is of late knowle"} -{"id": 496, "text": "dge, and for it the Christian World is\nindebted unto that painfull industrious searcher, and lover of all\nnature’s varieties, John Tradescant (sometimes belonging to the Right\nHonourable Lord Robert Earle of Salisbury, Lord Treasurer of England in\nhis time, and unto the Right Honourable the Lord Wotton at Canterbury\nin Kent, and lastly unto the late Duke of Buckingham), who first\nreceived it of a friend, that brought it out of Virginia, thinking it\nto bee the Silke Grasse that groweth there, and hath imparted hereof,\nas of many other things, both to me and others.” “Unto this plant I\nconfess I first imposed the name ... which untill some can finde a\nmore proper, I desire may still continue ... John Tradescant’s Spider\nWort of Virginia.” Courageous as herbalists generally were in tasting\nplants, Parkinson confesses there had “not beene any tryall made of\nthe properties” or “vertues.” Luckily no one has disputed Parkinson’s\nchoice of a name, and his friend’s memory is still preserved. Th"} -{"id": 497, "text": "e\nplant is not confined to Virginia, but grows much further into the\nWild West, and is common in Kansas, Nebraska, and distant States.\nYet it will still adapt itself to the grimy limits of a London garden,\nand flower year after year. The Grey-coat School Garden is quite\nrefreshing; the plants look so healthy and prosperous that it is really\nencouraging. The interior of the house, with oak beams and panels, is\nall in keeping, and the long class-room, with windows looking out on\nthe bright Garden, is most ideal. As, at the close of their afternoon\nstudies, the girls, singing sweetly in parts, join in some familiar\nhymn, and the melodious sounds are wafted across the sunlit Garden, it\nis hard to believe in the existence of the crowded, unsavoury slums of\nWestminster, only a stone’s throw from this “haunt of ancient peace.”\n\n[Illustration: GREY COAT SCHOOL, WESTMINSTER]\n\nAmong its many charms and associations Westminster Abbey can lay\nclaim to possessing one of the oldest gardens in Englan"} -{"id": 498, "text": "d. The ground\nstill occupied by the space known as the “College Garden” was part\nof the infirmary garden of the ancient monastery. It cannot trace\nback its history with the Abbey to the Saxon Sebert, but when Edward\nthe Confessor’s pile began to rise, and all the usual adjuncts of\na monastery gathered round it, the infirmary with the necessary\nherb-garden of simples for treating the sick monks would be one of the\nfirst buildings to be completed. One of the most peaceful and retired\nspots within the Abbey precincts is the Little Cloister, which was\nthe infirmary in early days. When the Great Cloister was finished in\n1365, the Little Cloister was taken in hand. Payments for work on\n“the New Cloister of the Infirmary” appear in the accounts from 1377,\nand it was completed in 1390, and that year the centre was laid down\nin turf. The garden belonging to the infirmary covered all the space\nnow occupied by the “College Garden,” and joined the “Grete Garden,”\nwhich lay to the west. It was prob"} -{"id": 499, "text": "ably, like all the gardens of that\ndate, laid out in long, narrow, straight beds, in which were grown all\nthe healing herbs used for the sick of the monastery. Probably there\nwere fruit-trees, too, as in 1362 John de Mordon, the infirmarer, got\n9s. for his apples, and the following year 10s. for pears and apples.\nNo doubt the favourite Wardon pear was among them, as in another\nrecord, between 1380–90, it is specially mentioned. The chapel of St.\nKatharine, which stood on the north side of the Garden, was destroyed\nin Elizabeth’s reign. This, the infirmary chapel of Norman building,\nwas as replete with history as every other nook and corner of the Abbey\nbuildings. Here St. Hugh of Lincoln and most of the early bishops were\nconsecrated, and here took place the unseemly dispute for precedence,\nbetween the Primates of Canterbury and York in 1186, which led to the\nsettling of their respective ranks by the Pope. While so many changes\nhave swept over the Abbey, and whole buildings have vanish"} -{"id": 500, "text": "ed, the\nherb-garden of early days has kept its place, and is still a garden,\nthough bereft of its neat little beds.\n\n[Illustration: ABBEY GARDEN, WESTMINSTER]\n\nThe Little Cloister has been greatly altered since then, having been\nrefashioned in the early part of the eighteenth century under the\ninfluence of Wren. Although so changed since the time when strange\ndecoctions of medicinal herbs were administered within its walls, it\nhas retained much of its fascination, and the approach to it by the dim\nvaulted entrance, dating from the Confessor’s time, out of the narrow\npassage known as the “Dark Entry,” adds to its charm. The sun streams\ndown on this small court, with its tree and ferns and old moss-grown\nfountain, lighting it with a kind of “dusky splendour.” Any one\nstanding in this suggestive spot will feel with Washington Irving,\nthat “The Cloisters still retain something of the quiet and seclusion\nof former days. The gray walls are discoloured by damps, and crumbling\nwith age; a coat"} -{"id": 501, "text": " of hoary moss has gathered over the inscriptions of\nthe mural monuments, and obscured the death’s heads, and other mural\nemblems. The sharp touches of the chisel are gone from the rich tracery\nof the arches; the roses which adorned the keystones have lost their\nleafy beauty; everything bears marks of the gradual dilapidations of\ntime, which yet has something touching and pleasing in its very decay.”\n\nThese lines refer to the Great Cloister, but the quiet and repose are\nstill more noticeable in the Little Cloister, which rarely echoes to\nthe sound of hurrying feet. The noise and laughter of Westminster\nscholars is only dimly heard in this secluded corner. The boys are not\nas boisterous as when Horace Walpole feared to face them alone, even to\nvisit his mother’s tomb. “I literally had not courage to venture alone\namong the Westminster boys; they are as formidable to me as the ship\ncarpenters at Portsmouth,” he wrote in 1754. Even in those days the\nlist of eminent scholars was already a "} -{"id": 502, "text": "long one--Hakluyt, Ben Jonson,\nGeorge Herbert, Dryden, Wren, being on the roll of those who had passed\naway, besides others then living, such as Gibbon and Warren Hastings,\nwho carried on the tradition of this classic ground.\n\n[Illustration: THE LITTLE CLOISTER, WESTMINSTER ABBEY]\n\nIn monastic times there were many gardens within the precincts of the\nAbbey, besides the infirmary garden; but it is difficult to locate\nall of them with certainty, although the sites of some are known. The\nabbot’s garden lay in the north-west angle of the wall, and must have\ncovered part of the present Broad Sanctuary, including the spot\nwhere the Crimean monument now stands. Beyond the abbot’s house, just\nwest of the cloister, was the abbot’s little garden. The northern part\nof Dean’s Yard was from very early times known as “The Elms,” from\nthe grove of fine trees, some of which remain. It is said that when\nElizabeth ascended the throne and summoned Abbot Feckenham, who had\nbeen reinstated by Mary, he was "} -{"id": 503, "text": "planting some, perhaps these identical,\nelm trees. Among them formerly stood a huge oak, which was blown down\nin 1791. The horse pool was on the west of the Elms, and beyond both to\nthe south lay the numerous adjuncts of the monastery, the brewhouse,\nbakehouse, and granaries. Skirting this enclosure was the “Long Ditch,”\nwhich flowed by the line of the present Delahay Street and Prince’s\nStreets, and passed along outside of the wall of the Infirmary Garden,\nin what is now Great College Street, and fell into the Thames. This\nstream turned the mill from which “Millbank” took its name. In it, to\nthe south of the granary, was a small island osier bed. The sale of the\nosiers on it used to bring in 10s. annually in the fourteenth century.\nBeyond the stream were more gardens. The “Hostry Garden” was a large\none on the site of the church of St. John, and next to it the “Bowling\nAlley,” where Bowling Street ran in later times, and to the west of\nthat was a kitchen-garden. Somewhere also on the "} -{"id": 504, "text": "west of the “Long\nDitch,” before it turned towards the Thames near the osier island, must\nhave been the “Precentor’s Mede,” or, as it was sometimes called, the\n“Chaunter’s-hull,” and also the “Almoner’s Mede” or “Almery Garden.”\nOn the other side of the “Hostry Garden,” southwards on the site of\n“Vine Street” and “Market Street,” was situated the vineyard, without\nwhich no thirteenth-century monastery was complete, and “Market Mede.”\nEven this does not exhaust the list of separate gardens, but the\nothers probably lay further away. The cellarer had charge of a large\ngarden, which may have been the “Convent Garden,” which is so familiar\nas “Covent Garden” that the connection between the site of the market\nand the Abbey has been lost sight of. One of the large gardens which\nwas generally let was “Maudit’s Garden.” In the records it is spoken\nof as “Maudit’s” or “Caleys.” The name Maudit was given to it because\nThomas Maudit, Earl of Warwick, in the thirteenth century effected an\nexchange "} -{"id": 505, "text": "of lands with the Abbey, of which the garden formed a part.\nThe other name, “Caleys,” was “Calais,” named from the wool staplers\nwho came from that town and resided near there, just as “Petty France”\n(where Milton lived) was called so from the French merchants. An Act\nof interchange of land between Henry VIII. and the Abbey, in the\ntwenty-third year of his reign, mentions “a certain great messuage\nor tenement commonly called Pety Caleys, and all messuages, houses,\nbarns, stables, dove-houses, orchards, gardens, pools, fisheries,\nwaters, ditches, lands, meadows, and pastures.” Part of this was\n“Maudit’s” garden, which was sometimes in the hands of the convent, but\nmore frequently let out. Among the muniments in 1350, “a toft called\nMaudit’s garden, and a croft called Maudit’s croft,” are referred to.\nThere seems to have been an enclosure within this “toft” which was let\nout separately, and in the twentieth year of Edward IV., Matilda, the\nwidow of Richard Willy, who had held it, gave up"} -{"id": 506, "text": " this enclosure or\n“conyn garth.” This was probably a “coney garth” or rabbit enclosure,\nlike the one at Lincoln’s Inn, which was kept up for a long time. Such\nrabbit gardens were by no means uncommon. All gardening operations\nmust at times have been rendered difficult by reason of the wet soil\nand frequent flooding of the river, but with the patient persistence\ncharacteristic of gardeners in those days, the gardens in monastic\ntimes were probably well kept, and yielded profitable crops. It is\ndelightful to know that, in spite of all the changes, one portion of\nthe old gardens actually remains to this day.\n\nLambeth, on the opposite bank, fared no better than Westminster for\nhigh tides, and wet seasons did occasional damage there. In Archbishop\nLaud’s Diary, he notes the inroad of a high tide, which certainly would\nbe destructive:--“November 15, 1635, Sunday. At afternoon the greatest\ntide that hath been seen. It came within my gates, walks, cloysters,\nand stables at Lambeth.” Nothing o"} -{"id": 507, "text": "f great antiquity now remains in\nthese Lambeth Gardens, although they are indeed historic ground. The\nlong terrace and wide herbaceous border, with a profusion of madonna\nlilies, backed by a wooden paling, and fruit-trees peeping over, is\nnow a charming walk. The trees on the right of the illustration are\nplanes, ailanthus, and catalpas, all smoke-resisting and suitable,\nbut not such as would have ornamented the Garden in older days, when\nArchbishop Cranmer adorned his garden with “a summer-house of exquisite\nworkmanship.” It was designed by his chaplain, Dr. John Ponet or\nPoynet, who is said to have had “great skill and taste in works of\nthat kind.” The summer-house was repaired by Archbishop Parker, but\nafterwards fell into decay and was removed, and in 1828 not even a\ntradition of where it had stood remained. The site of “Clarendon’s\nWalk,” another historical corner of the Lambeth Garden, is also\nuncertain. It appears to have received the name from a conversation\nwhich took place in"} -{"id": 508, "text": " the Garden between Laud and Hyde, in which the\nlatter seems to have told the Archbishop pretty plainly that “people\nwere universally discontented ... and many people spoke extreme ill of\nhis grace,” on account of his discourteous manners, which culminated on\none occasion by his telling a guest “he had no time for compliments,”\nwhich greatly incensed him. The only survivals of former years are\nthe delightfully fragrant fig-trees, which flourish between the\nbuttresses on the sunny side of the library--the great hall rebuilt by\nArchbishop Juxon after the destruction in Cromwell’s time. These figs\nare now fair-sized trees, but they are only cuttings of the older ones\ndestroyed in 1829, when Archbishop Howley commenced his rebuilding.\nThe two parent trees, in 1792, measured 28 inches and 21 inches in\ncircumference, and were 50 feet high and 40 feet in breadth, and,\naccording to contemporary evidence, bore delicious fruit of the white\nMarseilles variety. Tradition ascribed their planting to"} -{"id": 509, "text": " Cardinal Pole\nduring his brief sojourn as Archbishop.\n\n[Illustration: HERBACEOUS BORDER, LAMBETH PALACE]\n\nLatimer seems much to have appreciated the Lambeth Garden, when\nbusiness called him to the Palace. Sir Thomas More describes, in\n1534, how he watched him walking in the Garden from the windows.\nLatimer himself, in writing to Edward VI., says, “I trouble my Lord of\nCanterbury, and being at his house now and then, I walk in the Garden\nlooking at my book, as I can do but little good at it. But something I\nmust needs do to satisfy the place. I am no sooner in the Garden and\nhave read awhile, but by-and-by cometh there some one or other\nknocking at the gate. Anon cometh my man and saith, ‘Sir, there is\none at the gate would speak with you.’” How many of us that have been\ncalled in from a pleasant garden to perform some unpleasant task will\nsympathise with the Bishop!\n\nOne famous inhabitant of the Garden lived through many and great\nchanges. This was a tortoise, which is said to have be"} -{"id": 510, "text": "en put into the\nGarden by Archbishop Laud, and lived until 1757, when he perished by\nthe negligence of a gardener. This legend is apparently quite true, so\nit had been there for over 110 years.\n\nA short account of the principal gardens near London, written by Gibson\nin 1691, describes that of Lambeth Palace. It “has,” he says, “little\nin it but walks, the late Archbishop [Sancroft] not delighting in”\ngardens, “but they are now making them better; and they have already\nmade a green-house, one of the finest and costliest about the town. It\nis of three rooms, the middle having a stove under it; ... but it is\nplaced so near Lambeth Church, that the sun shines most on it in winter\nafter eleven o’clock, a fault owned by the gardener, but not thought\nof by the contrivers. Most of the greens are oranges and lemons, which\nhave very large ripe fruit on them.” The Archbishop who thus took the\ngarden in hand was Tillotson, and it is not surprising to find him\nadopting that keenness for gardening a"} -{"id": 511, "text": "nd the cultivation of “greens”\nbrought into fashion by William III.\n\nNearly ten acres of the extensive grounds of Lambeth Palace have now\nbeen put under the management of the London County Council, and made\nopen to the public as “Archbishop’s Park.” For many years this Park had\nbeen used for cricket and so on, but the transference entailed some\nalterations, and extended its use to a wider circle.\n\nThe Garden of Fulham, the other ecclesiastical palace of London, is\neven more interesting than Lambeth, on account of the fine trees\nstill remaining of which the history is known. Among the Bishops of\nLondon several have shown great interest in the gardens, and two\nespecially, Grindal and Compton, were eminent gardeners. The tamarisk\nwas introduced by Bishop Grindal, and in the golden age of gardening\nhe was in the foremost rank of the patrons of the art, with Bacon and\nBurghley. He used to send Queen Elizabeth presents of choice fruits\nfrom his garden, and on one occasion got into trouble by"} -{"id": 512, "text": " sending\nfruit, when one of his servants was supposed, unjustly, to have the\nplague. He wrote (5th August 1566) to Burghley, to say he was sorry\nhe had “no fruit to offer him but some grapes.” These grapes were of\ncourse produced out of doors, as growing vines in green-houses was a\nfashion unknown until some 150 years later. Even before the additions\nof Grindal, the gardens were extensive, and Bonner is said to have been\nmuch in his garden, not from the love of its repose, but, according to\ncontemporary but prejudiced chroniclers, because in the further arbours\nof the garden he could with the rod or by other equally stringent\nmeasures, “persuade” undisturbed those of the reformed religion to\nrecant and adopt his views. His successor, Grindal, used the Garden\nfor more laudable and peaceful practices, and his work of planting was\nmuch appreciated in that garden-loving age. Bishop Aylmer, who, after\nSandys, succeeded Grindal in 1577, was accused of destroying much of\nGrindal’s work and cu"} -{"id": 513, "text": "tting down his trees, then some thirty-five\nyears old. Strype, however, protests that he only cut down “two or\nthree of the decayed ones.” That there should be a controversy on\nthe subject only shows how much was thought of Grindal’s planting.\nThe same thing happened after the death of Compton, the next great\nplanter, as Robinson, who followed him, let the gardener sell and cut\ndown as much as he liked. In our own day, even, some of Compton’s elms\nhave been removed, to make the alterations in the Bishop’s Park when\nit was opened to the public. The Bishop’s Park is the long, narrow\nstrip of land between the moat and the river. Flowering shrubs on the\nbank of the moat, and rows of cut plane trees by the river, have been\nplanted. There are two long asphalt paths, and some bedding out and\nrock gardening between the grass lawns. It is now kept in order by the\nBorough of Fulham, which reminds the public of the fact by the notices\nstuck up: “Ratepayers, protect your property.”\n\nThe Elm Avenue"} -{"id": 514, "text": " was part of Compton’s design, and many very fine trees\nknown to be his remain to this day. During the long duration of his\nepiscopate--1675 to 1714--he had time to see his plants grow and\nflourish. His gardening achievements were much appreciated in his own\nday. John Evelyn, a great authority on horticultural matters, was\noften at Fulham. He notes in his Diary on Oct. 11, 1681: “To Fulham\nto visit the Bishop of London, in whose garden I first saw the _Sedum\narborescens_ in flower, which was exceedingly beautiful.” Richard\nBradley, a well-known gardener, in his book published in 1717, quotes\nmany of the plants at Fulham as examples in his pages. With regard\nto the passion flower, his notice is interesting, as it gives the\nname of Bishop Compton’s gardener. “That [the passion flower] may\nbear fruit,” he writes, “we must Plant it in very moist and cool\nplaces, where it may be continually fed with Water; this I had from\nthe Curious Mr. Adam Holt, Gardener to the late Bishop of London,\nwho"} -{"id": 515, "text": " shew’d me a letter from the West Indies, from whence I learnt it\nwas an Inhabitant of Swampy Places.” Bradley had seen the pistachio\nfruiting against a wall at Fulham, and he thought he had also noticed\nan olive flourishing there. From time to time there have been special\nnotices of the trees round the Bishop’s palace. Sir William Watson\nwrote a paper on them for the Royal Society, in which he gives a list\nof thirty-seven special trees, many of them the finest of their kind in\nEngland. “For exemplification of this I would,” he says, “recommend to\nthe curious observer the black Virginian walnut tree, the cluster pine,\nthe honey locust, the pseudo-acacia, the ash maple, &c., now remaining\nat Fulham.” Many of the later bishops have paid great attention to\nthe grounds. Bishop Porteous (1787–1809) who planted cedars; Howley\n(1813–1828), and especially Blomfield (1828–1856), all took delight\nin the Garden. Bishop Blomfield planted a deciduous cypress and the\nailanthus, which now measures 10"} -{"id": 516, "text": " feet 4 inches at 4 feet from the\nground, curiously exactly the same girth as the one at Broom House\nclose by. In 1865, Bishop Tait had the old trees measured, and there\nare later measurements of some of the finest. The cork tree was 13\nfeet 9 inches, and although sadly shattered, part of this magnificent\nold tree, with its thick cork bark, still holds its own. The great\nblack walnut or hickory has not been so fortunate, and died about ten\nyears ago, and only a venerable stump is left; but a good specimen\nstill stands in the meadow. The great tree in 1865 measured 15 feet 5\ninches; in 1894, 17 feet 3 inches. The tulip tree died about the same\ntime as the hickory. The honey locust (_Gleditschia triacanthos_), one\nof Bishop Compton’s trees, only died last year, the large white elm in\n1904, and, sad to say, the flowering ash (_Fraxinus ornus_) was blown\ndown in March 1907. The Wych elm and a beautiful walnut still flourish,\nand also the variety of Turkey oak (_Quercus cerris lucumbeana_ o"} -{"id": 517, "text": "r\n_fulhamensis_), so in spite of many disasters Fulham Palace still can\nshow some fine trees.\n\nChelsea still abounds in gardens. There are the modern plots along the\nEmbankment, laid out with the wriggling path that municipal authorities\nseem to deem necessary nowadays. The private gardens in front of\nsome of the houses are an older institution, and some can boast of\ndelightful patches of old gardens in their rear also. Behind Lindsay\nHouse the Moravian burial-ground is hidden away, and part of its wall\nmay be the actual wall of Sir Thomas More’s garden. There are the\nremains of elms and several good mulberry trees. The large mulberry on\nthe Embankment near looks as if it once might have been in the garden\ntoo. Chelsea further possesses one of the first botanical gardens in\nEngland, the Duke of York’s School with large grass area and fine elm\ntrees, and the spacious grounds that surround the Hospital. Much of\nthe old stately simplicity still clings to these latter, although last\ncentur"} -{"id": 518, "text": "y saw many variations in their plan.\n\nThe site was occupied by King James’s College, founded by Matthew\nSutcliffe, Dean of Exeter, in 1610, which, in spite of the King’s\npatronage and the interest of Prince Henry, was a failure. It added\nto, rather than allayed, religious discussion, and was familiarly\nknown as “Controversy College.” The ground was, in 1669, given to\nthe Royal Society, but the buildings were too dilapidated for them\nto use. To Sir Stephen Fox is probably due the idea of founding a\nhospital for disabled soldiers, although tradition also attributes\nsome of the credit to Nell Gwynn, who is said to have appealed to\nCharles II. on their behalf. The King laid the foundation-stone, on\nthe 12th of March 1682, of the building designed by Wren. John Evelyn,\nas one of the Council of the Royal Society, had been consulted when\nthe idea was first mooted, and in January 1682 he notes in his Diary\na talk on the subject with Sir Stephen Fox, who asked for Evelyn’s\nassistance with regar"} -{"id": 519, "text": "d to the staff and management. So in Sir Stephen’s\nstudy, as Evelyn writes, “We arranged the governor, chaplain, steward,\nhousekeeper, chirurgeon, cook, butler, gardener, porter, and other\nofficers, with their several salaries and entertainments.” This list\nof officials shows the importance of the Garden from the first--and no\nwonder, as the grounds occupied some twenty-six acres. A survey made in\n1702 shows how this space was divided. The largest part, lying to the\nnorth of the Hospital, is what is now known as “Burton’s Court,” and\nis used as a recreation ground for the soldiers in the barracks near,\nand a cricket ground for the brigade of Guards. The avenue down the\ncentral walk, “planted with limes and chestnuts,” was included in the\nearly design, and “Royal Avenue” is a continuation of it, Queen Anne\nhaving, it is said, intended to carry it on to Kensington. This part,\ncalled “the great court north of the buildings,” occupied over thirteen\nacres. The rest was divided into grass pl"} -{"id": 520, "text": "ots between the quadrangle\ncourts and canals, nearly three acres; the “garden on the east, now the\ngovernor’s,” about two acres; a kitchen-garden towards the river\nof more than three acres, two L-shaped canals with wide walks between,\nan “apothecary’s garden” for medicinal herbs, bleaching yards, and the\nchurchyard. The front garden, with its canals in Dutch style, ended\nin a terrace along the river. This garden was subject to much abuse\nby the landscape school of designers. “It was laid out,” wrote one in\n1805, “when the art of landscape gardening was at its lowest pitch; the\nprincipal absurdity in the garden is cutting two insignificant canals\nas ornaments, whilst one side of the garden is bounded by the noble\nstream of the Thames.” The writer adds that the gardens were open on\nSundays in summer, and were much frequented as a public promenade.\nThese severely-criticised canals were filled up in the middle of last\ncentury, and the space is now grass with avenues on either side, and a\nc"} -{"id": 521, "text": "entral obelisk, a monument to our soldiers who fell in the battle of\nChillianwallah.\n\n[Illustration: STATUE OF CHARLES II., CHELSEA HOSPITAL]\n\nThe statue of Charles II. as a Roman emperor, by Gibbons, in the centre\nof the court, was given by Tobias Rustat. The view over the simple,\nspacious garden from this central court, to the long balustrade with\nsteps down to the lower terrace, is very satisfying, and in keeping\nwith the stately architecture. The Governor’s house has its own\nspecial garden, a fine, wide terrace and large, straight beds, and a\ndelightful red-brick wall covered with trailing plants and fine iron\ngateway. The old pensioners, in their long coats and weather-beaten\nfaces, enjoying their “peace pipe” and their well-earned repose, add\nvery greatly to the picturesque effect of the Garden, and all its\nsurroundings. The churchyard, clearly seen through the railings along\nQueen’s Road from Chelsea Barracks, has an air of dignified repose. It\nhas been closed since 1854. The fi"} -{"id": 522, "text": "rst soldier buried there in 1692,\nSimon Box, had served four kings: Charles I., Charles II., James II.,\nand William III. The tombs are much worn with age, and it is no longer\npossible to find some of those known to have been laid to rest there.\nAmong them are two women who had served as privates; one of them,\nwho died in 1739, Christian Davies or “Mother Ross,” had served in\nMarlborough’s campaigns. The extraordinary number of centenarians this\nsmall burying-ground contains is astounding. William Hisland surely\nbeats the record, as he was married when he was over a hundred! He was\nborn in August 1620, and died in February 1732. Another veteran of 112\ndied five years later, while another, Robert Comming, who was buried\nin 1767, was 115, and before the end of the eighteenth century three\nothers, aged respectively 102, 111, and 107, were interred. The eldest\nof these three, who died in 1772, had fought in the Battle of the\nBoyne! It certainly speaks well for the care and attention bestowe"} -{"id": 523, "text": "d on\nthem in the Hospital.\n\n[Illustration: GARDEN GATE, CHELSEA HOSPITAL]\n\nThe garden to the east of the buildings was part of the original\nground, but has had a career and history of its own. It was the famous\nRanelagh Gardens, which enchanted the beaux and fair ladies of the\neighteenth century. From 1742 to 1803 its glories lasted. Ranelagh\nHouse was built by the Earl of that name, who was Paymaster to the\nForces in the reign of James II., a clever, unscrupulous person, who\namassed considerable wealth in the course of his office-work. He\nobtained a grant of the land from Chelsea Hospital, built a house\nand laid out a garden, where the “plots, borders, and walks” were\n“curiously kept, and elegantly designed.” After passing through the\nhands of his daughter, Lady Catherine Jones, the property was sold to\nSwift and Timbrell, who leased it to Lacey, the patentee of Drury Lane\nTheatre. The idea was to turn it into a winter Vauxhall. Eventually\nit was open from Easter till the end of the s"} -{"id": 524, "text": "ummer, and effectually\noutshone Vauxhall. Walpole, in a letter two days after it was first\nopened, did not think much of it. “I was there, last night, but did\nnot find the joy of it. Vauxhall is a little better, for the garden\nis pleasanter, and one goes to it by water.” Two years later he wrote\nin a very different strain. “Every night constantly I go to Ranelagh,\nwhich has totally beat Vauxhall. Nobody goes anywhere else--everybody\ngoes there. My Lord Chesterfield is so fond of it, that he says he\nhas ordered all his letters to be directed thither.” Fanny Burney,\nin “Evelina,” to bring out the character of the “surly, vulgar, and\ndisagreeable man,” makes him abuse the place which fascinated polite\nsociety. “There’s your famous Ranelagh, that you make such a fuss\nabout; why, what a dull place is that!” The chief amusement was walking\nabout and looking at each other, as the poem by Bloomfield puts it--\n\n “We had seen every soul that was in it,\n Then we went round and saw them a"} -{"id": 525, "text": "gain.”\n\nThe great attraction was the Rotunda, supposed to be like the Pantheon\nat Rome. The outside diameter was 185 feet. An arcade ran all round,\nand above it a gallery, with steps up to it through four Doric\nporticos. Over the gallery were sixty windows, and the whole was\nsurmounted by a slate roof. In the middle, supporting the roof, was\na huge fireplace, on the space at first occupied by the orchestra.\n“Round the Rotunda,” inside, were “47 boxes ... with a table and\ncloth spread in each; in these the company” were “regaled, without\nany further expense, with tea and coffee.” The whole was adorned with\nlooking-glasses and paintings, imitation marble, stucco, and gilding.\nDr. Arne wrote music for the special performances; breakfasts were\nat one time the rage, and at another masquerades were the order of\nthe day; while fireworks and illuminations amused the company at\nintervals, all through the years in which Ranelagh was prosperous.\n\n “There thousands of gay lamps aspir’d\n T"} -{"id": 526, "text": "o the tops of the trees and beyond;\n And, what was most hugely admired,\n They looked upside-down in a pond.\n The blaze scarce an eagle could bear\n And an owl had most surely been slain;\n We returned to the circle, and then--\n And then we went round it again.”\n\nOne of the last entertainments at Ranelagh was the Installation Ball\nof the Knights of the Bath in 1803; and a few years afterwards all\ntrace of Ranelagh House, the Rotunda, and even the Garden was gone. The\nground reverted to Chelsea Hospital, and not a vestige of the former\nglories is left. The pleasant shady walks and undulating lawns on the\nsite, bear no resemblance to the lines of the former gardens, and only\nsome of the older trees can have been there when Lord Chesterfield and\nWalpole were paying it daily visits.\n\nThe most important of Chelsea gardens, and one of the most interesting\nin England, is the Physic Garden, which lies between the Embankment\nand Queen’s Road, now called Royal Hospital"} -{"id": 527, "text": " Road. The Garden, both\nhorticulturally, botanically, and historically, has claims on every\nLondoner. England was much behind the rest of Europe in starting\nbotanic gardens. That of Padua, begun in 1545, was the first on the\nContinent, and it was nearly a hundred years later before any were\nattempted in this country. Oxford led the way in 1632, and the Chelsea\none followed in 1673. Its formation was due to the Apothecaries’\nCompany, and its first object the study of medicinal herbs. In those\ndays botany and medicine were closely entwined. Every botanical and\nhorticultural work was occupied with the virtues and properties of\nplants, far more than their structural peculiarities, or their beauties\nof form or growth. Gerard, Johnson, and less well-known botanists, were\nherbalists and apothecaries, so it was only natural that the Worshipful\nCompany of Apothecaries should be the founders of a garden. It was not\nthe first of its kind in London, but it ranks now as the second oldest\nin England"} -{"id": 528, "text": ", as its predecessors in London, such as Gerard’s Garden in\nHolborn, and the Tradescants in Lambeth, have long since passed away.\nIt probably, moreover, embodies the earlier one at Westminster, which\nwas under the care of Hugh Morgan, said by his contemporaries to be a\nvery skilful botanist. The Westminster Garden seems to have been still\nflourishing when the Apothecaries started theirs in Chelsea, but three\nyears later it was bought by them, one of the conditions of sale being\nthat the plants might be moved to Chelsea. The land in Chelsea was\nleased from Lord Cheyne. By the time the lease had expired, Sir Hans\nSloane was owner of the property, having purchased it from Lord Cheyne\nin 1712. He granted the land to the Apothecaries’ Company on a yearly\nrent of £5, on condition that it should always be maintained as a\nPhysic Garden, and certain other conditions, such as supplying a number\nof specimens to the Royal Society. The deed of gift further provided\nthat should the Apothecaries not "} -{"id": 529, "text": "continue to fulfil their obligation,\nthe Garden should be held in trust by the Royal Society, and should\nthey not wish to take it over, by the College of Physicians. It was\nacting in conformity with these wishes, that, when the Apothecaries\nceased to desire to maintain it, the Charity Commissioners, in 1898,\nestablished a scheme for the management of the Garden: £800 towards\nits maintenance was provided by the London Parochial Charities, who\nbecame trustees of the Garden, and £150 by the Treasury. A committee\nwas appointed to manage the Garden, and see that it fulfilled the\nfounder’s intentions. The original societies mentioned by Sir Hans\nSloane, the Treasury, the London County Council, and other modern\nbodies each nominate one representative on the board of management, and\nthe trustees appoint nine. It has been worked under this scheme since\nMay 1899. The buildings and green-houses, which were tumbling down,\nhave been rebuilt, and now include up-to-date conveniences for growing\nand r"} -{"id": 530, "text": "earing plants, and a well-fitted laboratory and lecture room.\nThe Garden is certainly now fulfilling the purposes for which it was\nfounded. It has proved to be of the greatest use to the students of the\nRoyal College of Science, and members of schools and polytechnics. Cut\nspecimens, for demonstration at lectures, are sent out in quantities\nduring the summer, often as many as 750 in a day. Students and teachers\nhave admission to the Garden, and the numbers who come (nearly 3000\nis the average annual attendance) show it is appreciated. Lectures on\nadvanced botany have been attended by an average of seventy students,\nand research experiments are carried on in the laboratory. Seeds are\nexchanged with botanical gardens all over the world, to the extent of\nover a thousand packets in a year. In this it is carrying on a very\nearly tradition, as seeds were exchanged with the University of Leyden\nin 1682, after Dr. Herman, from that city, had visited Chelsea.\n\nEven in its early days the Apothec"} -{"id": 531, "text": "aries found the Garden expensive to\nkeep up. When in 1685 it cost them £130, besides the Curator’s salary,\nthey made an arrangement, by which they paid him £100 a year, out of\nwhich he had to keep up the Garden, and was allowed to sell the plants.\nWatt was the first Curator under this new plan, and Doody, a botanist\nof some standing who succeeded him, was under the same conditions.\nPhilip Miller was appointed Curator, after the land had been given by\nSir Hans Sloane, and other well-known men have been connected with it.\nAfter 1724, besides the Curator, a “Præfectus Horti,” or Director, was\nappointed to visit and inspect the Garden, and report on its condition\nto the Company. Sometimes there was a little rivalry between the two,\nand at one time this occasioned two lists of the plants contained in\nthe Garden being published, one by Isaac Rand, the other by Philip\nMiller. Among the famous names in botany or horticulture connected with\nthe Garden are Dr. Dale, Mrs. Elizabeth Blackwell, Jam"} -{"id": 532, "text": "es Sherard and\nhis brother William, Joseph Millar, William Curtis, Forsyth, Robert\nFortune and Dr. Lindley, and Nathaniel Ward, the inventor of “Wardian\nCases.” But of all the Curators, Philip Miller was one of the most\neminent, and did most for the Garden. His Dictionary was for years the\nstandard work on horticulture, and went through numerous editions and\ntranslations. He published a catalogue of plants in the Physic Garden\nin 1730. The last “Præfectus Horti” was Lindley, who held the office\nfrom 1835 to 1853. During that time the expenses were getting too heavy\nfor the Society, and after his death no successor was appointed. Thomas\nMoore, who was co-editor with Lindley of the well-known “Treasury of\nBotany,” and author of several works on British ferns, continued alone\nas Curator. He held the office from 1848 to 1887. During his later\nyears the Garden gradually declined for want of funds, and after his\ndeath no new appointment was made by the Apothecaries, and a labourer\nlooked aft"} -{"id": 533, "text": "er the grounds. With the advent of the new authority and\ngreat expansion of work, the office was once more bestowed on a\ncompetent man, William Hales, the present Curator, who ably maintains\nthe old traditions of the garden.\n\nOne of the institutions of early days which has had to be discontinued\nwas the “herborising.” Expeditions in search of herbs were undertaken\nby the students, in company of their teacher, in the neighbourhood.\nAfter 1834, owing to the spread of London, these excursions had to be\nabandoned.\n\nThe famous cedars were planted in Watt’s time, and from contemporary\nreferences to them, there seems no doubt that they were the first to\nbe grown in England. John Evelyn in his “Sylva” in 1663, writing of\nthe cedar, says, “Why should it not thrive in Old England?” and Ray\nis astonished in 1684 to see the young trees flourishing at Chelsea\nwithout protection. They are shown in a plan of the Garden in 1753\n(the year of Sir Hans Sloane’s death) at the four corners of a pond,\nwhich"} -{"id": 534, "text": " no longer remains in the same position. Eighteen years later the\ntwo furthest from the river were cut down (1771), “being in a decayed\nstate” (and no wonder) from the rough usage they had been subjected\nto. The timber, 133¾ feet, was sold at 2s. 8d. a foot, and, together\nwith the branches, the trees fetched £23, 9s. 8d. The two specimens\nnearest the river were for nearly a hundred years a conspicuous object,\nalthough much injured by snow in 1809. By 1871, only one remained, and,\nin a report of the Garden seven years later, it was said to be in a\n“dying condition.” At the time the new Management Committee came into\noffice, that one was quite dead. They left the tree standing until the\nfungi on it became a danger to the rest of the trees in the Garden,\nwhen most reluctantly it was felled in March 1904, all the sound parts\nof the timber being carefully preserved. Miller gives a good account\nof them in his time. “The four trees,” he writes, “(which as I have\nbeen credibly informed) were p"} -{"id": 535, "text": "lanted there in the year 1683, and at\nthat time were not above three feet high; two of which Trees are at\nthis time (viz. 1757) upwards of eleven feet and a Half in girt, at\ntwo Feet above ground, and thereby afford a goodly shade in the hotest\nSeason of the Year.” He goes on to point out that they were planted so\nnear the pond, which was bricked up to within two feet of them, that\nthe roots could not spread on one side. Whether the water was good for\nthem he is not sure, but feels certain it was injurious to cramp the\nroots. The two specimens nearest the green-house had had some of their\nbranches lopped off, to prevent their shading the grass, and suffered\nin consequence. Though one remained for nearly 150 years after Miller\ngave these measurements, it was only 13 feet round the trunk at the\nbase when it was felled, and was so completely rotten it must soon have\nfallen. Miller records that three of the trees began producing cones\nabout 1732, and that in his time the seeds ripened, and"} -{"id": 536, "text": " germinated\nfreely, so it is probable that many plants in England are descendants\nof the Chelsea trees. That these were actually the first to be grown\nin England there is not much doubt. Evelyn regrets in his “Sylva” the\nabsence of the cedars in England. The only trees which have put forth\nrival claims to the Chelsea ones are those of Bretby and Enfield. The\nBretby one is undoubtedly very old, but there is no early reference to\nit in histories which mention the Enfield trees, and the famous one\nat Hendon, traditionally planted by Queen Elizabeth and blown down in\n1779, and a few others; and there is no contemporary evidence of the\ndate of its planting to warrant the assumption that it was before 1683.\nThe Enfield tree in the garden of Robert Uvedale was said, in 1823, by\nHenry Phillips, to be about 156 years old, therefore older than the\nChelsea ones by some six years; but there is no evidence to corroborate\nthis. When Gibson describes the Garden in 1691, he makes no mention\nof it, and"} -{"id": 537, "text": " it seems unlikely he would have omitted such an important\ntree. There exists much correspondence with Uvedale and botanists of\nhis time, but in none of the letters or early notices is the cedar\nmentioned before Ray’s note of the Chelsea trees, or even referred to\nas the first planted in England, so it seems the Chelsea trees’ claim\nto be the first is fairly established.\n\nThe oriental plane, which fell just as it was going to be taken down\nin 1904, was one of the finest in London, planted by Philip Miller,\nand is quoted by Loudon, in 1837, as then 115 feet high. Some of the\nother famous trees have also died, such as the cork trees and paper\nmulberries; but some have been more fortunate, and are among the\noldest of their kind in England. The _Koelreuteria paniculata_ is\nprobably the finest in this country, and the other old trees which\nwere noted as being particularly fine specimens in 1813 or 1820, and\nwhich are still alive, are _Diospyros Virginiana_, the Persimmon or\nVirginian date p"} -{"id": 538, "text": "lum, the Quercus ilex, black walnut, mulberry, and\n_Styrax officinale_. _Rhus juglandifolia_, which grows by the wall,\nwas probably planted when introduced from Nepaul in 1823. The wistaria\nand pomegranate are old and still flourishing, and young plants of the\ntrees once famous in the Garden are doing well. The amount of attention\nthe novelties in the Physic Garden used to attract is well shown by\nthe spurious translation of De Sorbière’s travels. The little book,\npublished in 1698, purported to be a translation of De Sorbière, but\nwas really an original skit. The writer pretends De Sorbière visited\nthe Garden, and reported a delightful series of imaginary flowers. “I\nwas at Chelsey, where I took particular notice of the plants in the\nGreen House at that time, as _Urtica male oleus Japoniæ_, the stinking\nnettle of Japan; _Goosberia sterelis Armenia_, the Armenian gooseberry\nbush that bears no fruit (this had been potted thirty years);\n_Brambelia fructificans Laplandiæ_, or the Blooming"} -{"id": 539, "text": " Bramble of Lapland;\nwith a hundred other curious plants, and a particular Collection of\nBriars and Thorns, which were some part of the curse of the Creation.”\nThat it was worth while laughing at the Garden in a popular skit,\nshows what an important position it had taken. The green-houses were\namong the earliest attempted, and many scientific visitors describe\ntheir plans and arrangements. They were rebuilt at great cost in 1732.\nThe statue to Sir Hans Sloane, by Michael Rysbrach, stood in a niche\nin the green-house wall. It was moved to the centre of the Garden\nin 1751, where it still stands. The Garden was honoured by a visit\nfrom the great Linnæus in 1736, and he noted in his diary: “Miller of\nChelsea permitted me to collect many plants in the Garden, and gave me\nseveral dried specimens collected in South America.” Among the valuable\nbequests to the Garden were collections of dried plants, now in\nthe British Museum of Natural History, and a library left by Dr. Dale\nin 1739, on condi"} -{"id": 540, "text": "tion that “suitable and proper conveniences” were made\nfor them at the Physic Garden. They should be there still, and the new\nbuildings are eminently suited for their reception; and their use to\nstudents would be very great, now that the Garden is well equipped for\nsupplying all the requirements for the modern teaching of botany.\n\n[Illustration: CHELSEA PHYSIC GARDEN]\n\nBefore quitting these gardens of historic interest, there is one which\nmust not be forgotten, although its former charms have vanished, and\nit can no longer claim such botanical curiosities as the Chelsea\nPhysic Garden--that is, the remains of John Evelyn’s Garden of Sayes\nCourt. The Garden is now enjoyed by numbers in that crowded district\nof Deptford, through the kindness of Mr. Evelyn, the descendant of\nthe famous diarist, John Evelyn, who keeps it up as well as opens it\nto the public. The Manor of Deptford was retained by the Crown in\nJames I.’s time, and Sayes Court was leased to Christopher Browne, the\ngrandfather "} -{"id": 541, "text": "of Sir Richard Browne, whose only daughter and heiress\nJohn Evelyn married. After his wife had succeeded to the property,\nand they had lived there some years and made the Garden, John Evelyn\npurchased the freehold land from Charles II. The delight he took in\nhis garden, how he exchanged seeds and plants, imported rare specimens\nfrom abroad, through his many friends, and grew them with success, is\nwell known. The ruthless way his treasures were treated by Peter the\nGreat was a sore trial to Evelyn. The Czar amused himself, among other\nacts of vandalism, by being wheeled about the beds and hedges in a\nwheelbarrow. The holly hedge, even, he partially destroyed. In writing\nof the merits of holly in his “Sylva,” Evelyn says of this one: “Is\nthere under heaven a more glorious and refreshing object of the kind,\nthan an impregnable Hedge a hundred and sixty feet in length, and seven\nfeet high, and five in diameter, which I can shew in my poor Gardens at\nany time of the year, glittering with it"} -{"id": 542, "text": "s armed and vernish’d leaves?\nthe taller Standards at orderly distances blushing with their natural\nCorall. It mocks at the rudest assaults of the Weather, Beasts, and\nHedgebreakers.” This hedge has long since departed, but young hollies,\nplanted in groups on the same part of the Garden, keep up the old\nassociations. One wing of the house is standing, and is at present\nused as a school. The walled garden on the south side is still there,\nand on the north a wide terrace walk, with a straight grass lawn with\nlarge beds, is in keeping with the old place. But instead of the views\nover the river, and the Garden descending to the water’s edge, there\nis a high rampart of the buildings of the Foreign Cattle Market, from\nwhence the sounds of lowing oxen mingle with the din of streets which\nclose round the Garden on the three other sides. In spite of these\ndrawbacks, it is delightful to know, that the surviving portion of the\nonce-beautiful Garden is fulfilling a want among the poor in a way tha"} -{"id": 543, "text": "t\nwould have appealed to the generous and kind-hearted author.\n\n * * * * *\n\nThese are some of the chief gardens of historic interest, but it by no\nmeans exhausts the list of the smaller ones rich in associations, green\ncourts attached to schools, almshouses, hospitals, or such-like, which\nare hidden away in unexpected corners throughout London.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII\n\nPRIVATE GARDENS\n\n _Even in the stifling bosom of a town\n A garden, in which nothing thrives, has charms\n That soothe the rich possessor_; ...\n\n --COWPER.\n\n\nIn writing of the private gardens of London it is difficult to know\nwhere to begin. There are a few large and beautiful gardens, but for\nthe most part the smaller they are, and the less there is to write\nabout them of interest to the general reader, the more they are of\nvalue to the happy possessors. It is the minute back-garden, invaded\nby all the cats of the neighbourhood, with a fe"} -{"id": 544, "text": "w plants on which an\ninfinity of time and trouble, care and thought, have been expended,\nthat is the real typical London garden. What a joy to see the patches\nof seeds come up in the summer, and with what expectation are the buds\non the one lilac bush examined to see if really at last it is going to\nflower! What pleasure the fern dug up on a summer holiday gives, as it\nbravely uncurls its fronds year by year! What delight is occasioned if\nthe Virginian creeper, which covers the wall, grows more luxuriantly\nthan those of the houses on either side, and what excitement if it\nreally turns red once in a way in October, instead of shrivelling up\nto an inglorious end! What grief is felt when the fuchsia, purchased\nas a fitting centre-piece to the formal geranium bed, loses its\nbuds one by one before they expand! These and many similar joys and\nsorrows are the portion of those who tend small gardens in London.\nHow fascinating it is to look into back-gardens as the train passes\nover viaducts ou"} -{"id": 545, "text": "t of the heart of the town. Certainly the differences\nin their appearance show what skill and devotion can accomplish.\nNothing but real love of the plants, and a tender solicitude for their\nwelfare, can induce them to exist in the confined areas and stifling\natmosphere of the average London garden. But even these inauspicious\nsurroundings may be brightened by flowers. When those absolutely\nignorant of the requirements of plant life take to gardening in the\ncountry, they have Nature at hand to help them. The sunlight, air,\nand good soil supplement their deficiencies of knowledge, and, though\nterribly handicapped by careless planting, unsuitable situations, want\nof water, and such drawbacks, the plants can struggle with success to\nmaintain their natural beauty. But let the ignorant try in town to\ngrow plants, where all the conditions militate against them, instead\nof assisting, and the results are very different. For instance, many a\nsmall back-garden, or even window box, is planted year"} -{"id": 546, "text": " after year with\nno renewal of the soil. The crumbling mould, which is either caked hard\nor pours like dust from the hand, is completely exhausted, and the poor\nplants are starved. They should be given plenty of what in gardeners’\nslang is called “good stuff,” if they are to grow in such adverse\nconditions. A little of the money expended on plants which dwindle\nand die, spent on manure or good soil, would better repay the would-be\ngardener. Many plants require a good deal of water when making their\ngrowth, and if that is denied them they will not thrive, no matter\nhow great the solicitude for their welfare in other ways. Washing\nthe leaves, especially of evergreens, and scrubbing stems is also a\ngreat help, as leaves choked with dirt have no chance of imbibing the\nlife-giving properties necessary to the plant.\n\nThe back-garden has many enemies besides soot and fogs. Cats are one\nof the greatest trials, and most destructive. Sparrows also are very\nmischievous. They will pick the flower-"} -{"id": 547, "text": "buds off trees just at the\ncritical moment. A wistaria climber laden with young blossoms they\nwill destroy in a few days, just before the purple buds appear. But,\nnotwithstanding all these pests and difficulties, it is surprising how\nmany things will not only survive, but grow well. The task becomes\nmore and more easy as the houses recede from the City. In St. John’s\nWood, Bayswater, or Earl’s Court, in Camberwell or Stoke Newington,\nplants will grow better than in Bloomsbury or Southwark. But yet it is\npossible to grow many things even in Whitechapel.\n\nIt is impossible to prescribe the best plants for all London gardens,\nas there is such a great difference in soil and aspect, that what\ndoes well in one part will not flourish in another. The heavy soil of\nRegent’s Park, for instance, is well suited to peonies, which do not\nseem at home in Chelsea. On the other hand, some of the showy, hardy\nspring flowers, such as wallflowers and forget-me-nots, die off with\nfogs much more quickly in t"} -{"id": 548, "text": "he Regent’s Park than in other districts.\nAny deciduous tree or shrub thrives better than an evergreen or\na conifer in any part of London. The fresh growth of clean leaves\nevery year, by which the plant absorbs much of its nourishment, must\nnecessarily be better for it than dried-up, blackened leaves. Among\nflowering shrubs, a great number grow sturdily in London. Laburnums\nof all kinds, thorns in many varieties, flower well; lilacs grow and\nlook fresh and green everywhere, but cannot be depended on always\nto flower; almonds, snowy medlars, double cherries, weigelas or\ndiervillas succeed; broom, Forsythias, acacia, syringa, many kinds\nof prunus, ribes, rose acacia, Guelder rose, Japanese red peach,\n_Kerria japonica_, _Hibiscus Syriacus_, or _Althæa frutex_, are all\nsatisfactory, and many more could be mentioned. _Yucca gloriosa_ will\nstand any amount of smoke, and _Aralia spinosa_ does well in many\nparts; and among evergreens, _Arbutus Andrachne_ can be recommended.\nFruit-trees, pears,"} -{"id": 549, "text": " and apples are charming when in bloom, and in a\nlarge space, or to cover a wall, figs are valuable.\n\nAlpines grow astonishingly well, and though a considerable percentage\nwill die from the alternating damp fogs and frost in the winter, many\nwill really establish themselves, and be quite at home, much nearer\nthe heart of London than Dulwich, where many have been cultivated. “I\nknow a bank whereon the wild thyme grows” in London--not a green, mossy\nbank, but rather a blackened rockery; still the slope is really covered\nwith large patches of wild thyme, purple with bloom in the summer,\ncarefully marked by the London County Council “_Thymus serpyllum_,” for\nthe benefit of the inquiring. Several of the other thymes, which form\ngood carpets, will also grow. _Antennaria dioica_, a British plant,\nforms a pretty silvery groundwork on beds or rockeries, and nothing\nseems to kill it. Saxifrages in great numbers are suitable, beginning\nwith the well-known mossy green _hypnoides_, to the giant kno"} -{"id": 550, "text": "wn as\n_Megasia cordifolia_, also sedums, semper-viviums, aubrietias, phloxes,\ntiarella, dianthus in variety; and several other Alpines have succeeded\nin different parks and gardens, such as _Androsace sarmentosa_, _Dryas\noctopetala_, yellow fumitory, _Cotoneaster frigida_, the small ivy\n_Hedera conglomerata_, _Achillea tormentosa_, _Lychnis Haageana_,\n_Linnæa borealis_, _Azalea procumbens_, _Campanula garganica_, only\nto mention some that have been noticed; even edelweiss has been\nsuccessfully grown in the centre of London.\n\nA few annuals will make a good show, and nothing is better in a\nwindow-box or really dingy corner than Virginian stock; but, as a rule,\nit repays trouble best to rear perennials. Seedling wallflowers, sweet\nWilliams and Canterbury bells, and such like, make a border bright. The\ngreat secret of success in growing annuals is to thin them out well;\nthe patches of seedlings are too often left far too much overcrowded.\nThis “thinning” is even more important than good so"} -{"id": 551, "text": "il and careful\nwatering. Marigolds thrive best of all, and will often seed themselves,\nbut a few other annuals can be safely recommended.\n\n Candytuft.\n Catchfly. (Silene pendula and\n armeria).\n Erysinum perofskianum (a kind of\n Treacle mustard).\n Eschscholzia.\n Flax (scarlet).\n Godetias.\n Ionopsidium acaule (violet cress).\n Larkspur (annual).\n Love-in-a-mist (Nigella).\n Nasturtiums.\n Phlox drummondi.\n Snapdragon (Antirrhinum).\n Toadflax (Linaria).\n\nVery many things may succeed well that are not specially noted here,\nbut the following list of fifty herbaceous plants have all been seen\nreally growing, and coming up, year after year, in private gardens\nin London. Some are not so sturdy as others; for instance, neither\nalyssum nor phlox flourish as well as thrift or the members of the iris\ntribe, but all are hardy in London. Thomas Fairchild, who had a famous\nnursery garden at Hoxton, writing of City gardens in 1722, gives his\nexperience of plants that succeed best, and many"} -{"id": 552, "text": " on his list are those\nthat do well still. He specially notes some growing in the most shut-in\nparts of the City, which were flourishing: fraxinella in Aldermanbury,\nmonkshood and lily of the valley near the Guildhall, bladder senna\nin Crutched Friars, and so on, mentioning many of those which still\nprove the most smoke-resisting. One large, coarse, but handsome plant\ndeserves mention, as it grows so well it will seed itself, and that\nis the giant heracleum. It propagates itself in the garden of Lowther\nLodge, Kensington Gore, and in much more confined spaces, even in the\ngarden used by the London Hospital, near the Mile End Road.\n\n\nLIST OF FIFTY HERBACEOUS PLANTS\n\n Alyssum.\n Auricula.\n Bachelors’ buttons.\n Buglos.\n Campanula--several varieties.\n Candytuft.\n Carnations.\n Centaurea.\n Chrysanthemums.\n Columbines.\n Comfrey.\n Crane’s bill.\n Creeping Jenny.\n Crown Imperial.\n Cyclamen.\n Day lilies.\n Dictamnus fraxinella (burning bush).\n Doronicum (leopard’s bane).\n Erigero"} -{"id": 553, "text": "n (Fleabane).\n Funkias (Plantain lilies).\n Galega officinalis.\n Golden rod (solidago).\n Heucheras.\n Hollyhocks.\n Iris--several varieties, especially those with rhizomes and\n non-bulbous roots.\n Japanese anemone.\n Larkspur.\n Lilies of the valley.\n Lilies--\n Canadense.\n Candidum.\n Davuricum.\n Lancifolium (speciosum).\n Martagon dalmaticum.\n Pyrenaicum.\n Tigrinum.\n London Pride (also many other Saxifrages).\n Lupin.\n Mallow.\n Michaelmas daisies.\n Monkshood.\n Montbretia.\n Pansies.\n Periwinkle.\n Phlox.\n Polygonum.\n Primroses (also Japanese primulas, cowslips, and polyanthus).\n Pyrethrum.\n Rock roses.\n Solomon’s seal.\n Southernwood.\n Speedwell (Veronica amethystina and others).\n Spiræa (S. aruncus, venusta, &c.).\n Sunflower (perennial, including Harpalium).\n Thrift.\n Tradescantia.\n Trollius.\n\nOf climbing plants the Virginian creeper, which makes a green bower\nof so many London houses, must come first, but the real grape vine is\nquite as "} -{"id": 554, "text": "successful. In several parts of London vines laden with grapes\nmay be seen in the autumn, by those on the look-out for such things.\nOne vine in Buckingham Gate had forty bunches of fruit that ripened in\n1906. On one branch of a vine, near Ladbroke Square, fourteen purple\nbunches were hanging in a row at the same time, and in other parts of\nthe town well-cared-for vines will bear well. Wistaria also thrives,\nand jasmine, yellow or white, and ivy. Besides these in constant use,\nfor more special gardens there are Everlasting peas, Dutchman’s pipe\n(_Aristolochia_), clematis, Jackmani, Montana, or the Wild Traveller’s\nJoy, and Passion flower; also convolvulus, _Cobæa scandens_, and gourds\nof all kinds for the summer.\n\nSpring flowers planted in autumn succeed, and even those in pots\nor boxes in windows or on roof gardens flower freely. Hyacinths,\ncrocus, tulips, daffodils, and narcissus do well; snowdrops are not so\nsuccessful as a rule, but Spanish Iris will make a good show when the\nearlie"} -{"id": 555, "text": "r bulbs are over. The minute green-house which often opens out of\na staircase window in London houses can easily be made gay in spring\nby this means. Acorns and chestnuts sown in the autumn in shallow pans\nand covered with moss make a delightful small forest from May onwards.\nFoxgloves dug out of the woods will flower well in these dingy little\ngreen-houses, and are a delightful contrast to the ferns which will\nflourish best in them. A few other plants are sturdy for this purpose,\nsuch as the fan palms, _Chamærops excelsa_, _Fortunei_, and _humilis_,\nAspidistra, _Aralia Sieboldii_, _Selaginella Kraussina_, the Cornish\nmoney-wort (Sibthorpia). Geraniums will flower well, and Imantophyllums\n(or Clivias) are one of the most accommodating plants for such small\ngreen-houses, as although they take up an undue share of room on\naccount of the large pots necessary, they will flower well every year.\n\n[Illustration: THE GARDEN OF SIR LAURENCE ALMA-TADEMA, R.A.]\n\nRoses only do fairly well; but tho"} -{"id": 556, "text": "ugh they sometimes will last two\nor three years, they are apt to give disappointments and must often\nbe renewed. The climbing roses, however, in some gardens are very\ncharming. In one of the prettiest in London--that belonging to Sir\nLaurence Alma-Tadema, in Grove End Road--the illustration shows how\ncharmingly an iron trellis is covered with red and white roses. The\ngarden is most artistically arranged and is a good illustration of\nhow much can be made of a small space. A large evergreen oak overhangs\nthe basin with a stone margin and splashing fountain, on which\nwater-lilies gracefully float. The variety and harmony of the whole\ngarden, with its paths shaded by fig-trees, apples and pears, cherries\nand lilacs, sunny borders with Scotch roses, Day lilies, foxgloves,\nand iris, and formal fountains, all in a small space, yet not crowded,\nand bright with flowers, is delightful. Another small garden in\nKensington--tended by Lady Bergne--of quite another type, contains\nnearly all the flowe"} -{"id": 557, "text": "rs that have been mentioned as growing well in\nLondon. It is only the stereotyped long narrow strip at the back of\nthe house; but by putting a path and rock-work and pools of water on\none side, and having grass and flower borders on the other, backed by\nflowering shrubs and ferns at the shaded end, a great variety of plants\nhave been grown successfully.\n\nIn most London gardens very little enterprise is shown. The old system\nof bedding out is adhered to. Of the large London houses standing by\ntheir own lawns, none have gardens of any horticultural interest.\nMontagu House is on the site of the extensive gardens of Whitehall, and\nthe present lawn is where the bowling green, with its gay throng of\nplayers, lay in former years, and the terrace keeps up the tradition\nof the wide terraces that descended from the palace to the green. The\nturf is still fair and green, and is brightened in summer by lines of\ngeraniums, white daisies, and calceolarias. Devonshire House garden,\non the site of the "} -{"id": 558, "text": "famous one belonging to Berkeley House that covered\nall the present Square, is in the same way merely planted with the\nusual summer bedding plants. Lord Portman’s house, 22 Portman Square,\nis where Mrs. Montagu, the Queen of the Blue-Stockings, held her\ncourt. The present garden, with spacious lawn, has no horticultural\npeculiarity, but its historical interest lies in the fact that it\nwas here that Mrs. Montagu entertained the chimney-sweeps, every\nyear on the 1st of May. She is said to have done so, to give these\npoor children “one happy day in the year,” and when the horrors and\ntragedies attending the lives and often deaths of these cruelly treated\nlittle creatures is realised, it is not to be wondered at that one lady\nwas humane enough to befriend them.\n\nA quaint pathetic poem by Allan Cunningham, written in 1824, records\nin characteristically stilted language an incident supposed to have\noccurred to Mrs. Montagu. A sad boy, whose life was spent in climbing\nflues, is pictured, and "} -{"id": 559, "text": "one lady he supplicates turns away--“And lo!\nanother lady came,” and spoke kindly to him, asked him why he thus\nspent his life, listened to his tale of how he was an orphan and “sold\nto this cruel trade.”\n\n “She stroked the sooty locks and smiled,\n While o’er the dusky boy,\n As streams the sunbeam through a cloud,\n There came a flash of joy.\n She took him from his cruel trade,\n And soon the milk-white hue\n Came to his neck; he with the muse\n Sings, ‘Bless the Montagu.’”\n\nHer kindness is recorded in other poems, and in her lifetime took the\npractical shape of a sumptuous spread of beef and plum-pudding on the\nlawn of her house in Portman Square.\n\nGrosvenor House garden, with terrace and lawn sloping down to large\ntrees, has natural advantages for a beautiful garden, but a row of\nbeds along the terrace are the only flowers. The owners of these large\nLondon gardens have such an abundance of floral display elsewhere that\nno real gardening seems to be "} -{"id": 560, "text": "attempted. To understand what are the\nhorticultural possibilities of London, it is in the minute back-garden\nthat the lesson must be learned, and the subject studied. Holland House\nis an exception to this rule, for there the most beautiful garden, in\nkeeping with the magnificent old house, is kept up, and the greatest\ncare and skill were bestowed on it with wonderful results by the late\nEarl of Ilchester.\n\n[Illustration: THE LILY POND, HOLLAND HOUSE]\n\nNo house, perhaps, has more associations than Holland House. Its\nhistory has been so often written, that to go over it in detail would\nbe superfluous. Built by Sir Walter Cope, while Elizabeth was on\nthe throne, from the designs of Thorpe, it doubtless from the first\nhad a good garden, as in those days great care was expended on the\nsurroundings of a house, for people realised, as did Bacon, that, “men\ncome to build stately, sooner than to garden finely; as if gardening\nwere the greater perfection.” The second stage in its history, when\ni"} -{"id": 561, "text": "t passed to Henry Rich, through his marriage with Sir Walter Cope’s\ndaughter and heiress, was even more eventful. He enlarged the house,\nwhich became known as Holland House after Charles I. had created him\nBaron Kensington and Earl of Holland. His wonderful personal charm,\ninherited from his mother, the “Stella” of Sir Philip Sidney, made\nhim a general favourite; but not even his attachment to the Queen\npreserved him from disloyalty, although in the end he fought for\nthe King’s cause. While he was on the Parliamentary side, Holland\nHouse was often the meeting-place of its leaders. Cromwell and Ireton\ntalked together in the centre of the field in front of the house, so\nthat their raised voices, occasioned by Ireton’s deafness, should not\nbe overheard. For a time after the Restoration, Holland House was\ntenanted by various people of note, to whom it was let out in suites\nby the widowed Countess. One among them, the Frenchman Chardin, who\nbecame famous by his travels to Persia, it has bee"} -{"id": 562, "text": "n surmised, may\nhave brought some of the rare plants to the garden. The connection\nwith Addison came from his marriage with the Dowager Lady Warwick, to\nwhom the house belonged, the second Lord Holland having succeeded his\ncousin as Earl of Warwick. He must have delighted in the gardens of\nHolland House, although they were hardly so wild as the ideal one he\ndescribes in the _Spectator_. There he said, “I look upon the pleasure\nwhich we take in a garden as one of the most innocent delights in human\nlife.” No doubt he found some solace in the beauties of Holland House\ngarden to cheer the depression of the unhappiness the marriage had\nbrought him. The brilliant days of Holland House continued after it\nchanged hands, and was owned by Henry Fox, second son of Sir Stephen\nFox, who was chiefly instrumental in starting Chelsea Hospital. Henry\nFox eloped with Lady Caroline Lennox, and was afterwards created\nLord Holland. He took great interest in his garden, and was advised\nand helped by the we"} -{"id": 563, "text": "ll-known collector and horticulturist, Peter\nCollinson. This friend was the means of introducing many new plants\nto this country--a genus Collinsonia was named after him--and he\nmust have been pleasant and good besides, for his biographer says to\nhim was attached “all that respect which is due to benevolence and\nvirtue.” He was in correspondence with leading men in America, and was\nconstantly receiving seeds and plants, and his own garden contained\n“a more complete assortment of the _orchis_ genus than, perhaps, had\never been seen in one collection before.” No doubt some found their way\nto the gardens of his friend, Lord Holland. How astonished they both\nwould be could they peep for a moment at the orchids displayed in the\ntents of the Horticultural Society’s shows, which have been allowed\nto take place in the park where Cromwell conversed? At this time the\ngardens must have been considerably remodelled, as the taste for the\nformal was waning, and the “natural” school taking its place."} -{"id": 564, "text": " One of\nthe pioneers of the natural style, Charles Hamilton, assisted the new\ndesign. His own place, Painshill, near Cobham, in Surrey, embraced\nall the newest ideas, groves, thickets, lakes, temples, grottos, sham\nruins, and hermitages. A contemporary admirer, Wheatley, says of\nPainshill, it “is all a new creation; and a boldness of design, and\na happiness of execution attend the wonderful efforts which art has\nthere made to rival nature.” No doubt this adept in the new art would\nintroduce many changes. The “Green Lane” was a road shut up by Lady\nHolland, and Hamilton is said to have suggested turfing it. He appears\nto have been fond of woodland glades and turfed the shaded walks in his\nown creation, so it seems very likely that the idea of grass was his.\nIn the Green Lane, Charles James Fox, son of the first Lady Holland,\nwho closed the road, loved to walk, and still the Green Lane is one\nof the most attractive spots in all London. The fame of Holland House\nincreased as time went on,"} -{"id": 565, "text": " and some of its most brilliant days were\nduring the time of the third Lord Holland, when Lady Holland drew all\nthe wit and fashion of London to her salon. Although it is no longer\na country place, and though no highwaymen have to be braved to reach\nit, and though its surroundings are completely changed, the garden of\nHolland House was never more beautiful than it is to-day. It is easy to\nforget it is a London garden, the flowers look so clean and fresh. The\nlong vista into the rose garden from the lawn, which lies to the north,\nis flanked on either side with pink roses, that pretty free-flowering\nCaroline Testout. To the west, overlooking the Dutch garden, the view\nis even more attractive, and the garden so well harmonises with the\nhouse that it is easy to picture the beaux in wigs, and ladies in\nhoops and powder, moving among the box-edged beds. On the south, the\nwide terrace shown in the sketch was made in 1848, when the footpath\nwas altered and the entrance to the house changed to "} -{"id": 566, "text": "the eastern side.\nThe stone basin in the centre was put in by the late Lord Ilchester.\nThe hybrid water-lilies, raised by Marliac, grow well in it, and that\nrather delicate, but most beautiful of the Sagittarias, _montevidensis_\nhas flowered there. The raised terrace on the arches of the old\nstables, which encloses one side of the garden and is covered with a\ntangle of ivy, affords a charming view over the Dutch garden. Beyond is\nthe old ballroom, orangery and garden enclosed by arches of cut limes.\nA terrace runs to the south of the Dutch garden and orangery, and the\nItalian garden which lies here is in itself as complete a contrast to\nthe box-edged beds of the Dutch garden as is the Japanese garden,\na new addition which lies further to the north. It was near here that\nthe fatal duel between Lord Camelford and Colonel Best took place in\n1804. There is yet another small enclosed garden cut off by thick yew\nhedges and fat hollies from the rest. In it is the seat inscribed with\nlines to "} -{"id": 567, "text": "the poet Rogers:--\n\n “Here Rogers sat, and here forever dwell\n With me those Pleasures that he sings so well.”\n\nIn this garden, year by year, dahlias have grown ever since they were\nfirst successfully grown in England. In 1789 the dahlia came for the\nfirst time from the New World to the Old. It was then sent to Spain,\nand that same year Lady Bute procured some from Madrid. She was not,\nhowever, successful in growing it and it quite died out, until it\nwas reintroduced by Lady Holland in 1804. The plants remained rare\nin England for some years. It was being grown in France, Germany,\nand Holland, but little had been done to improve the original plant.\nWhen, however, a larger supply was available in England after 1814,\nthe English growers took it up, and produced, before long, the round\nvery double flowers which soon became the rage. In stilted style a\nwriter in 1824 describes the dahlia mania, after giving the history of\nits introduction. “It was left to English capital and perse"} -{"id": 568, "text": "verance,”\nhe says, “to illuminate the northern part of the globe by the full\nbrilliancy of these floral luminaries.” Thus in extravagant language\nhe continues to sing the praises of the dahlia. It is curious that\nthe name is now generally pronounced as if it were “dalea,” forgetful\nof the fact that there is a flower, something like a vetch, called\n“Dalea” by Linnæus, after Dr. Samuel Dale, who died in 1739, a\nwell-known botanist and friend of Ray. The dahlia was named long after\nin honour of the Swedish botanist Dahl.\n\nThe so-called “Japanese garden” was made by the late Lord Ilchester. It\nis extremely pretty, but is entirely an English idea of what a Japanese\ngarden is like, and, however pleasing it may be to the uninitiated,\nwould probably shock the Japanese gardener, who is guided by as precise\nrules in his garden, as the painter in his art. In Japan the rules\ngoverning the laying-out of a garden are so exact that, apparently, it\nrequires years of study to acquire the rudiments. The"} -{"id": 569, "text": " Japanese garden\nat Holland House, which is pleasing to the English eye, consists of a\nlittle stream descending through grassy lawns, with groups of plants,\na stone lantern, and rustic bridges, and water plants at each little\npond. The delightful _Iris kæmpferi_ flowers well, and yuccas, which,\nby the way, come from America, and not Japan; neither do _Aralia\nspinosa_ or _Saxifraga peltata_, which together form charming groups,\nwith auratum lilies in the summer and other Japanese plants. The French\nhybrid water-lilies, of varying shades of pink, red, and yellow, here\ntoo make a picture, with their brilliant blossoms floating on the\nminiature pools--while bamboos, maples, and eulalias, true natives of\nJapan, make a soft and feathery background. Above the Japanese garden\nthere is a well-furnished rock garden, and between that and the roses,\nwhich make such a grand display on the north of the house, green walks\nthrough rhododendrons and flowering shrubs unite the gardens. There\nare some re"} -{"id": 570, "text": "ally fine trees, as well as all the charming flowers, in\nthe grounds. Near the bridge leading to the Japanese garden there is\na beautiful evergreen oak and rare forest trees, while on the lawn\nsome old cedars, planted by Charles James Fox, are showing signs of\ndecrepitude, although the delightful picturesque effect a cedar always\nhas, adds one more to the many charms of this, the most beautiful as\nwell as the largest of London gardens.\n\nThere is a charming group of houses standing in their own grounds\nstill left on Campden Hill, although Campden House has been demolished\nand its site built over within the last few years. The property on\nwhich Campden House stood, and some authorities say the house itself,\nwas won over some game of chance in James I.’s time by Sir Baptist\nHicks, afterwards Viscount Campden, from Sir Walter Cope, the builder\nof Holland House, hard by. It was to Campden House that Queen Anne’s\nlittle son, the Duke of Gloucester, was taken for country air. The air\nis still"} -{"id": 571, "text": " pleasant on these heights, and the open tract of Holland Park\ngives so much freshness that plants flourish wonderfully. There are\ngood gardens attached to many of the houses--Cam House, Blundell House,\nAubrey House, Thornwood, Holly, and Moray Lodges, and several others.\nHolly Lodge is noteworthy as having for a few years been the residence\nof Lord Macaulay. There are some charming trees in the grounds, even\nyews (which are among the first to suffer from smoke) looking well;\na good old mulberry and silver elms, and a camellia in a border near\nthe wall, which often flowers out of doors, although some years the\nhalf-open buds drop off from the effects of frosty fogs.\n\nCam House has one of the most charming gardens. It is now lived in by\nSir Walter Phillimore, and has been in his family for some 150 years.\nIt was well known as Argyll Lodge, as the late Duke bought the lease\nand made it his town residence from the time he first took office in\nLord Aberdeen’s ministry in 1852. Before that "} -{"id": 572, "text": "it was known as Bedford\nLodge, as the Duchess of Bedford, step-mother of Lord John Russell,\nthe Prime Minister, had lived there and laid out and planted most of\nthe garden. The “two very old oaks, which,” wrote the Duke of Argyll,\n“would have done no discredit to any ancient chase in England,” are\nstill to be seen. The Duke was also delighted with the wild birds\nwhich there made their homes in the garden; in fact, he says in his\nMemoirs, it was the sight of the “fine lawn covered with starlings,\nhunting for grubs and insects in their very peculiar fashion,” the\nnut-hatches “moving over the trees, as if they were in some deep\nEnglish woodland,” the fly-catchers and the warblers, that made him\ndecide to take the house. During the half-century he lived there many\nof the birds, the fly catchers, reed-wren, black cap, and willow-wren,\nand nut-hatches, deserted the garden, but even now starlings and\nwood-pigeons abound, and, what is even more rare in London, squirrels\nmay be seen swinging fr"} -{"id": 573, "text": "om branch to branch of the old trees. Besides\nthe two old pollard oaks there are good beech and copper-beech, elder,\nchestnuts, snowy medlar, sycamore, several varieties of thorn, and\na large Scotch laburnum, _Laburnum alpinum_, which flowers later\nthan the ordinary laburnum, and is therefore valuable to prolong the\nseason of these golden showers. The leaves are broader and darker,\nand growth more spreading. On the vine trellis is a curious old vine\nwith strongly scented flowers. All the plants which thrive in London\nare well grown in the charming formal garden and along the old wall,\nwhich is covered with delicious climbing plants. So luxuriously will\nsome flowers grow, that the hollyhocks from this garden took the prize\nat the horticultural show held in the grounds of Holland House, in a\ncompetition open to all the gardens in the Kingdom.\n\nAt Fulham there is a charming garden, with trees which would be\nremarkable anywhere, and appear still more beautiful from their\nproximity to Londo"} -{"id": 574, "text": "n. These trees in the grounds of Broom House have\nfared on the whole better than those at Fulham Palace, hard by. It is\nseparated from the Palace by the grounds now attached to the club of\nHurlingham. Of Hurlingham there is not much early history. Faulkner,\nthe authority for this district, writes in 1813: “Hurlingham Field is\nnow the property of the Earl of Ranelagh and the site of his house. It\nwas here that great numbers of people were buried during the Plague.”\nThe same authority mentions: “The Dowager Countess of Lonsdale has\nan elegant house and gardens here in full view of the Thames,” and\nBroom House is shown on Rocque’s map of 1757. The estate was bought\nby Mr. Sulivan from the Nepean family in 1824, and his daughter, Miss\nSulivan, keeps up the garden with the utmost good taste and knowledge\nof horticulture. The ailanthus, with a trunk 10 feet 4 inches in girth\nat 4 feet from the ground, is probably one of the finest specimens in\nEngland. The one in Fulham Palace garden is exac"} -{"id": 575, "text": "tly the same girth, but\ndoes not appear to be so lofty. The liquidamber is also a magnificent\ntree, and the false acacia is quite as fine as the one in Fulham\nPalace, and was probably planted at the same time. There are still\ntwo cedars left, although the finest was blown down some years ago,\nand the timber afforded panelling for a large room and many pieces of\nfurniture. Perhaps the most beautiful of the trees is the copper or\npurple beech. Not only is it very tall and has a massive trunk (14 feet\n6 inches at 2 feet from the ground), but the shape is quite perfect,\nand its branches are furnished evenly all round. There are also good\nevergreen oaks, elms, chestnuts and Scotch firs. There is a large\ncollection of flowering shrubs, which are in no way affected by the\nsmoky air. Standard magnolias, grandiflora, conspicua and stellata,\nmany varieties of the delightful autumn-flowering plant, the _Hibiscus\nsyriacus_, known to older gardeners as _Althæa frutex_, and recommended\nunder that na"} -{"id": 576, "text": "me by Fairchild in 1722 as suited to London, _Cratægus\npyracantha_, _Choysia_, _Pyrus spectabilis_, and many other equally\ndelightful shrubs all appear most flourishing. These, together with\nherbaceous plants and ornamental trees, well grouped in a garden of\ngood design, with the river flowing at the foot of it, make the grounds\nof Broom House rank among the most attractive about London.\n\n[Illustration: ST. JOHN’S LODGE, REGENT’S PARK]\n\nA few of the gardens, like this one, have succeeded in keeping the\nreal stamp of the country, in spite of the encroachments of the town\nand the advance of trams and motor omnibuses, but they are every day\nbecoming more scarce. Hampstead and Highgate have many such, and here\nand there, to the north and on the south of the river, such delightful\nspots are to be found, although the temptation to cut them up and build\nsmall red villas on the sites is very great. Towards the north of\nLondon there are many small gardens which are bright and attractive,\nand wi"} -{"id": 577, "text": "thout going so far as Hampstead, pleached walks and small but\ntastefully arranged grounds are met with. Within Regent’s Park\nthere are several charming gardens round the detached villas, which\nhave been already noticed in the chapter on that Park. The two most\ninteresting from a horticultural point of view are St. Katharine’s and\nSt. John’s Lodges. The fountain in the former is the frontispiece to\nthis volume, and that view says more than any elaborate description.\nIt might be in some far-away Italian garden, so perfectly are the\nsights and sounds of London obliterated. On a still, hot day, when\nthe fountain drips with a cool sound and there is a shimmering light\nof summer over the distant trees beyond the terrace, the delusion is\nperfect. Most of the herbaceous plants which take kindly to London grow\nin the border--hollyhocks, day lilies, poppies, peonies, pulmoneria\nand lilies, while there is a large variety of flowering shrubs--ribes,\nlilacs, buddleias, shumachs and _Aralia spinosa_"} -{"id": 578, "text": ". The kitchen-garden\nproduces good crops of most of the ordinary vegetables. The garden is\narranged with a definite design; there is nothing specially formal,\nno cut trees or anything associated with some of the formal ideas in\nEngland, but there is method in the design; the trees and plants grow\nas Nature intended them, but they are not stuck about in incongruous\ndisorder and meaningless, distorted lines, as is so often thought\nnecessary, in designing a garden or “improving” a park.\n\nSt. John’s Lodge has also a well-thought-out garden, some of it of a\ndistinctly formal type. The coloured illustration of it is taken from\na part of the garden enclosed with cut privet hedges, with a fountain\nin the centre, on which stands a statue of St. John the Baptist, by\nMr. Johnes. Between the four wide grass walks there are masses of\nherbaceous plants, backed by rhododendrons, which, as the picture\nshows, stand out with brilliant colour in summer against the green\nbackground. This garden opens into"} -{"id": 579, "text": " a bowling-green enclosed by cut lime\ntrees, and a cool walk for summer shaded by pleached lime trees. A\nseductive broad walk bordered with fruit-trees is another feature. This\nattractive garden has been made within the last eighteen years. The\nconception of it was due to Lord Bute, and the designing and carrying\nout to Mr. Schultz. The other side of the house, with a wide terrace\nand park stretching down toward the water, has no special horticultural\nfeature, but the formal garden is full of charm, and the plants are\nthriving and trees growing up so fast there is no trace of its newness.\nIt only shows how much can be done where knowledge and good taste are\ndisplayed.\n\nSt. James’s Park is still skirted by garden walls--Stafford, Clarence,\nand Marlborough Houses, as well as St. James’s Palace, though their\ngardens are hardly as elaborate as those of former years. The garden\nof that Palace delighted the Sieur de la Serre, who accompanied Marie\nde Medicis when she came to pay a visit to H"} -{"id": 580, "text": "enrietta Maria and Charles\nI. and was lodged in St. James’s Palace. After describing the house,\n“there were, besides,” he writes, “two grand gardens with parterres of\ndifferent figures, bordered on every side by a hedge of box, carefully\ncultivated by the hands of a skilful gardener; and in order to render\nthe walks on both sides which enclosed it appear more agreeable, all\nsorts of fine flowers were sowed.... The other garden, which was\nadjoining and of the same extent, had divers walks, some sanded and\nothers grass, but both bordered on each side by an infinity of\nfruit-trees, which rendered walking so agreeable that one could never\nbe tired.”\n\n[Illustration: IN THE GARDEN, ST. JOHN’S LODGE]\n\nThe garden of Bridgewater House was a little slice taken off Green\nPark. On the advice of Fordyce, the Crown in 1795 granted a lease, on\ncertain conditions, to the Duke of Bridgewater and other proprietors\nnear their respective houses, on the ground that it would improve\nrather than injure the P"} -{"id": 581, "text": "ark. In 1850 the question arose whether the\nplans Barry had just made for the garden of Bridgewater House infringed\nthe terms of the lease, and Pennethorne, architect to the Office of\nWorks, had to report on the question. It being finally settled that the\nproposed wall and terrace would not hurt the Park, the alterations were\nallowed.\n\nLast, but by no means least, either in size or importance, the gardens\nof Buckingham Palace must be glanced at. The Palace is so modern, when\ncompared with the older Royal residences, that it is easy to forget\nthe history of the forty acres enclosed in the King’s private garden,\nyet they have much historical interest. In the time of James I. a\nportion of the ground was covered by a mulberry garden, which the King\nhad planted, in pursuance of his scheme to encourage the culture of\nsilkworms, in 1609. That year he spent £935 in levelling the four acres\nof ground and building a wall round it for the protection of the trees.\nA few years later most of the enc"} -{"id": 582, "text": "losure became a tea-garden, while part\nwas occupied by Goring House. There are many references to these famous\ntea-gardens, called the “Mulberry Garden,” in plays and writings of the\nseventeenth century. Evelyn notes in his “Diary,” on 10th April 1654:\n“My Lady Gerrard treated us at Mulberry Garden, now the only place\nof refreshment about the town for persons of the best quality to be\nexceeding cheated at, Cromwell and his partisans having shut up and\nseized Spring Garden, which till now had been the usual rendezvous for\nthe ladies and gallants at this season.”\n\nGoring House stood just where Buckingham Palace does now, and was the\nresidence of George Goring, Earl of Norwich, and of his son, with whom\nthe title became extinct. It was let in 1666, by the last Earl of\nNorwich, to Lord Arlington, and became known sometimes as Arlington\nHouse. It was burnt in 1674, and Evelyn notes in his “Diary” of 21st\nSeptember: “I went to see the great losse that Lord Arlington had\nsustained by fire at "} -{"id": 583, "text": "Goring House, this night consumed to the ground,\nwith exceeding losse of hangings, plate, rare pictures, and cabinets;\nhardly anything was saved of the best and most princely furniture that\nany subject had in England. My lord and lady were both absent at the\nBath.” Buckingham House, which was built in 1703 on the same site for\nthe Duke of Buckingham, must have been very charming. Defoe describes\nit as “one of the beauties of London, both by reason of its situation\nand its building.... Behind it is a fine garden, a noble terrace (from\nwhence, as well as from the apartments, you have a most delicious\nprospect), and a little park with a pretty canal.” The Duke of\nBuckingham himself gives a full description of his garden in a letter\nto a friend, telling him how he passed his time and what were his\nenjoyments, when he resigned being Privy Seal to Queen Anne (1709). “To\nthe garden,” he writes, “we go down from the house by seven steps into\na gravel walk that reaches across the garden, with a"} -{"id": 584, "text": " covered arbour at\neach end. Another of thirty feet broad leads from the front of the\nhouse, and lies between two groves of tall lime trees, planted on a\ncarpet of grass. The outsides of those groves are bordered with tubs\nof bays and orange trees. At the end of the broad walk you go up to a\nterrace 400 paces long, with a large semicircle in the middle, from\nwhere are beheld the Queen’s (Anne’s) two parks and a great part of\nSurrey: then, going down a few steps, you walk on the bank of a canal\n600 yards long and 17 broad, with two rows of limes on either side. On\none side of this terrace a wall, covered with roses and jessamines, is\nmade low to admit the view of a meadow full of cattle just beneath (no\ndisagreeable object in the midst of a great city), and at each end is a\ndescent into parterres with fountains and waterworks. From the biggest\nof these parterres we pass into a little square garden, that has a\nfountain in the middle and two green-houses on the sides ... below this\na kitc"} -{"id": 585, "text": "hen-garden ... and under the windows ... of this green-house is a\nlittle wilderness full of blackbirds and nightingales.” This is truly\nan entrancing picture of a town garden.\n\nThe waterworks, those elaborate fountains then in vogue, were supplied\nby water pumped up from the Thames into a tank above the kitchen,\nwhich held fifty tons of water. Buckingham House was then a red-brick\nbuilding, consisting of a central square structure, with stone pillars\nand balustrade along the top, and two wings attached to the main\nbuilding by a colonnade. It was this style of house when King George\nIII. bought it, originally for a dower-house for Queen Charlotte,\ninstead of Somerset House, where the Queens-Dowager had previously\nlived. These formal gardens were not suited to the taste of the time,\nand George IV. had all the garden altered, as well as the house\nrebuilt by Nash. The whole of the parterres, terraces and fountains\nand canal were swept away, and most of the lime-trees cut down. A wide\nlawn "} -{"id": 586, "text": "and five acres of ornamental water, glades, walks and thickets\ntook their place. When first made the water was severely criticised by\na writer of the landscape school, the chief fault he found being that\ntoo much was visible at once from the path which encircled it, so that\nthe limits were not well concealed. This seems to have been altered to\nthe satisfaction of later critics. Dennis, writing in 1835, gives a\nplan in which the path has been made a little distance from the water’s\nedge, and the outline broken by clumps of trees and a promontory, which\nlater on was turned into an island, on which a willow from Napoleon’s\ntomb at St. Helena is said to have been planted, though no old willow\nnow exists. This writer gives great praise to Aiton, who superintended\nall the execution of the plans. The pavilion in the grounds was added\nin 1844, and decorated with paintings of scenes from Milton’s _Comus_\nby Eastlake, Maclise, Landseer and other artists, with borders and gilt\nornaments by Gruner"} -{"id": 587, "text": ".\n\nDuring the last four years his Majesty has had a great deal done\nto improve the grounds. His appreciation of what is beautiful in\ngardening has led him to effect several changes, which, while keeping\nthe park-like character of the gardens, have added immensely to their\nscenic beauty and horticultural interest. The dead and dying trees\nand others of poor and stunted growth have been removed, giving air\nand light to those remaining. Several good specimens of plane, lime,\nelm, beech, ash, ailanthus and hawthorn have thus secured more\nspace to develop. A very large assortment of all the best flowering\nshrubs which will flourish in London have taken the place of worn-out\nevergreens. The best of the hollies, arbutus and healthy evergreens\nhave been encouraged by careful attention. The great object in laying\nout the garden originally was naturally to obtain as much privacy as\npossible, and the earth taken out of the lake was formed into a great\nbank, which was thickly planted to screen the"} -{"id": 588, "text": " stables and distant\nhouses. This bank, which was stiff and formal in appearance, has now\nbeen artistically broken by planting and rock-work--not merely by a\nfew stones, which would seem small, unnatural, and out of place, but\nby bold crags, over which roses climb, and where gorse, savin and\nbroom, and countless other suitable plants look perfectly at home. The\naspect of the lake is also greatly enhanced by the substitution of\nrustic stone bridges for the iron structures, The water’s edge is well\nfurnished with iris and other water-loving plants--the finest Marliac\nlilies brighten its surface--and the stiff, round island is now varied\nby striking rocky promontories and is prettily adorned with broom and\ncherries.\n\nThe colossal vase by Westmacott, executed as a memento of the Battle of\nWaterloo, has lately been placed on one of the lawns in an amphitheatre\nof trees. It stands in front of his Majesty’s summer-house, which\nis quaint in design, and was brought from the old Spring Gardens a"} -{"id": 589, "text": "t\nWhitehall. The views down the wide glades, with the groups of tall\ntrees, the bridges, the herbaceous borders, and the wealth of flowering\nshrubs, make the garden altogether one of singular charm considering it\nis even more truly “in the midst of a great city” than when the Duke\nof Buckingham described the same spot nearly 200 years ago.\n\nThe Buckingham Palace Gardens show how much judicious planting can\ndo, and how much is lost in many of the parks as well as gardens by\nnot sufficiently considering the decorative value of plants. The old\nlandscape gardeners, in their desire to copy nature and depart from\nall formality, forgot the horticultural part of their work in their\nplans for the creation of landscapes. They had not studied the effects\nwhich skilful planting will produce, and ignored flowers as a factor\nin their scenery. They had not got the wealth of genera which the\ntwentieth century possesses, and of which, in many instances, full use\nis made. But in a review of London Parks"} -{"id": 590, "text": " and Gardens, it is impossible\nnot to notice effects missed as well as success achieved. The immense\nadvance gardening has made of late years, and the knowledge and wide\nrange of plants, makes it easier to garden now than ever before. The\nenormous number of trees and flowers now in cultivation leaves a good\nchoice to select from, even among those suitable for the fog-begrimed\ngardens of London. The carpets of spring flowering bulbs, the masses of\nbrilliant rhododendrons, the groups of choice blossoming trees, which\nso greatly beautify many of the parks and gardens, are all the result\nof modern developments. Experience, too, has pointed out the mistakes\nin landscape gardening, which is for the most part the style followed\nin London, and it should be easy to avoid the errors of earlier\ngenerations. In formal designing, also, the recent introductions and\nmodern taste in flowers should have a marked influence. In all the\nparks and gardens, public and private, the chief aim should be to mak"} -{"id": 591, "text": "e\nthe best use of the existing material, to draw upon the vast resources\nof horticulture, which have never been so great as at the present time,\nand thus to maintain the position of superiority of London gardens\namong the cities of the world.\n\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX TO PRIVATE GARDENS\n\n\nCHARLTON\n\nOwing to unavoidable circumstances it was not possible to include\nCharlton in the foregoing chapter on private gardens, but some account\nof this place of historic interest is necessary to complete this\nbook. Further from the centres of fashion, on the eastern limits of\nLondon, it has not been the scene of such brilliant assemblies as\nHolland House on the west; yet its early days share that speculative\nfascination which gathers round the personality of Henry, Prince of\nWales, who figures for such a short time on the pages of English\nhistory. Only two miles from Greenwich, in the hundred of Blackheath,\nlies the manor of Charlton, which was bestowed by William the Conqueror\non his half-brother, Odo of Bayeu"} -{"id": 592, "text": "x. Later on it passed by gift to\nthe Priory of Bermondsey, and so remained until the Dissolution of\nthe Monasteries, when it became crown land until James I. gave it to\nSir Adam Newton, “who built a goodly brave house” thereon. Born in\nScotland, Sir Adam had spent much of his life in France, and passing\nhimself off as a priest, had taught Greek at St. Maixant in Poitou.\nOn his return to Scotland in 1600, he was appointed tutor to Prince\nHenry, and was in attendance on him as secretary when the Prince grew\nup. In 1607 he commenced to build Charlton for him, Inigo Jones being\nthe architect, and after the Prince’s death in 1612, the King granted\nSir Adam the manor, in lieu of payment for the expenses he had incurred\nin building the house. The owner of Charlton continued to enjoy\nroyal favour, became Treasurer of the Household to Prince Charles,\nwas created a baronet in 1620, and married a daughter of Sir John\nPuckering, who had been Keeper of the Great Seal to Queen Elizabeth.\nHis second "} -{"id": 593, "text": "son, Sir Henry Newton, who succeeded him at Charlton, and\ntook the name of Puckering from estates inherited from his uncle, was\nan ardent supporter of Charles I. He sold the property to Sir William\nDucie, Viscount Downe, at whose death it was again sold. The purchaser,\nSir William Langhorne, was a wealthy East India merchant, who was, from\n1670 to 1677, Governor of Madras. On his death it passed by entail to\nhis cousin Mrs. Maryon, and eventually to her great-granddaughter,\nthe wife of Sir Thomas Spencer Wilson, in whose family Charlton still\nremains.\n\nThe gardens show traces of all the many owners, and in spite of the\ngrowth of London and its attendant drawbacks, they are still charming.\nThe house stands in about 150 acres of undulating deer park, with some\nfine old trees, an avenue of English elms on the east, and one of\nhorse-chestnuts, forming the approach on the west. Perhaps the planting\nof the tulip tree near the present lodge was due to John Evelyn, the\nfriend of Sir Henry Puck"} -{"id": 594, "text": "ering. Evelyn’s liking for tulip trees is well\nknown, and this specimen looks old enough to claim his acquaintance.\nThe two shattered but grand old mulberry trees probably date from the\nyear 1609, when James I. encouraged all his subjects to plant them,\nand tradition points to one as the first brought to England. There is\nan immense horse-chestnut on the lawn, with a wide spread of branches\nwhich are rooted in the ground all round, and among the evergreen oaks\nand other attractive trees in the “Wilderness,” a Judas of great age\nis remarkable. The small house standing near the road which passes\nthe parish church, known as the “Guard House,” recalls the time when\nPrince Henry was living there, and his guard of honour kept watch near\nthe entrance. The stables are just as they were built by Inigo Jones,\nand the little “Dutch” walled garden which adjoins them on one side is\nalso a pretty relic of those days, and the “Gooseberry Garden” near\nit is a survival of the same period. A walk oversh"} -{"id": 595, "text": "adowed by tall yew\ntrees stretches across and along the main part of the grounds, and\nhidden away near its southern end is a delightful rose garden. The\nbeautiful lead fountain in the centre must have been put there by Sir\nWilliam Langhorne. His initials appear on the leaden tank, and the\nspray rises from a basin held up by a charming little cupid standing\non a pedestal surrounded by swans. The same group appears without\nthe tank in another part of the garden, and there are lead vases and\nfigures, and a cistern dated 1777, which add greatly to the old-world\ncharm which still lingers. Chemical works and sulphurous fumes now work\ndeadly havoc among the old trees, but everything that modern science\ncan recommend is done to preserve them, and young ones planted to keep\nup the traditions, and bridge over the centuries dividing the present\nfrom the days of Prince Henry and his learned and courtly tutor.\n\n\n\n\nLIST OF SOME OF THE WORKS CONSULTED.\n\n(_The date does not always refer to the first e"} -{"id": 596, "text": "dition, but to the one\nconsulted._)\n\n\n Ambulator. A Pocket Companion in a Tour Round London. 1792.\n\n Amusements of Old London. Boulton. 1900.\n\n Argyll, Autobiography of George Douglas, Eighth Duke of. Ed. by the\n Dowager Duchess of Argyll. 1907.\n\n\n Baker, T. H. Records of Seasons and Prices.\n\n Battersea, All About. H. S. Simmonds. 1882.\n\n Birds in London. W. H. Hudson. 1898.\n\n „ of London. H. K. Swann. 1893.\n\n Bloomsbury. Chronicle of Blemundsbury. W. Blott. 1892.\n\n „ and St. Giles. George Cluich. 1890.\n\n Bradley, Richard. New Improvements of Planting and Gardening. 1717.\n\n Burial Grounds, London. Mrs. Basil Holmes. 1896.\n\n Butler, Samuel. Hudibras. Notes by Grey and Nash. 1847.\n\n\n Calendar of State Papers. 1557, &c. Ed. J. Redington.\n\n Camberwell. Parish of All Saints. T. J. Gaster. 1896.\n\n „ Ye Parish of Camerwell. W. H. Blanch. 1875.\n\n Catesby, Mark. Natural History of Carolina. 1731–43.\n\n „ „ Hortus Europæ Americanus. 1767.\n\n C"} -{"id": 597, "text": "helsea. Memoirs of the Botanic Garden. Henry Field. 1820.\n\n „ „ „ „ Ed. by R. H. Semple. 1878.\n\n „ An Account of Chelsea Hospital. 1805.\n\n „ Historical Notes. Isabella Burt. 1871.\n\n „ Hospital. Thomas Faulkener. 1805.\n\n „ Thomas Faulkener. 1810.\n\n Cleveland. Character of a London Diurnal. 1647.\n\n „ Poems, annotated by J. M. Berden. 1903.\n\n Cole, John. A Pleasant and Profitable Journey to London. 1828.\n\n Commons. A Glance at the Commons and Open Spaces of London. 1867.\n\n Curtis, William. Botanical Magazine. 1787–1906.\n\n „ „ A Catalogue of the Plants Growing Wild in the Environs\n of London. 1774.\n\n „ „ Flora Londinensis. 1777–1828.\n\n\n Dennis, John. The Landscape Gardener. 1835.\n\n Domesday Book. Ed. 1812.\n\n Draper, W. H. The Morning Walk; or, City Encompass’d. 1751.\n\n\n Evelyn, John. Diary.\n\n „ „ Sylva. 1664.\n\n\n Fairchild, Thomas. The City Gardener. 1722.\n\n Fiennes,"} -{"id": 598, "text": " Celia. Through England on a Side-Saddle in the Time of\n William and Mary. Ed. Hon. Mrs. Griffiths. 1888.\n\n Foreign Visitors to England. Smith. 1889.\n\n Fulham, Old and New. C. J. Feret. 1900.\n\n „ and Hammersmith. Faulkener. 1813.\n\n\n Gardeners’ Magazine. Conducted by J. C. Loudon. 1826–43.\n\n Gardening. History of, in England. Alicia Amherst. 1896.\n\n Gerard. Herbal. 1597.\n\n „ „ Ed. by T. Johnson. 1633.\n\n „ Catalogus. 1599.\n\n Greenwich. W. Howarth. 1886.\n\n „ and Blackheath. Half Holiday Hand-book Series. 1881.\n\n „ Park: Its History and Associations. Angus D. Webster. 1902.\n\n „ The Palace and Hospital. A. G. K. L’Estrange. 1886.\n\n Grosley. A Tour to London. 1765.\n\n\n Hackney. Magazine and Parish Reformer. 1833–38.\n\n „ Collecteanea Geographica, &c. 1842.\n\n „ History and Antiquities of. William Robinson. 1842.\n\n Hawthorne, Nathaniel. Passages from English Note-Books. 1870.\n\n Hazlitt, W. C. Gleanings in Old"} -{"id": 599, "text": " Garden Literature. 1887.\n\n Highgate, History of. Frederick Prickett. 1842.\n\n Hook, Dean of Chichester. Lives of the Archbishops of Canterbury.\n 1875.\n\n Hyde Park, from Domesday to Date. J. Ashton. 1900.\n\n\n Index Kewensis. 1893, &c.\n\n Inns of Court. Inner Temple Records, F. A. Inderwick. 1896.\n\n „ „ Inner and Middle Temple. H. H. L. Bellot. 1902.\n\n „ „ Lincoln’s Inn. Douthwaite. 1886.\n\n „ „ Gray’s Inn. Douthwaite. 1886.\n\n „ „ and Chancery. W.J. Loftée. Illustrations by Herbert\n Railton. 1893.\n\n Islington. History of the Parish of St. Mary. S. Lewis. 1842.\n\n Issue Rolls. James I., &c.\n\n\n Lamb, Charles, Life of. E. V. Lucas. 1905.\n\n Lambeth, History of. Ducarel. 1785.\n\n „ „ Thomas Allen. 1828.\n\n „ Palace and its Associations. J. C. Browne. 1883.\n\n Laud, Archbishop’s, Diary.\n\n Loimographia: An Account of the Great Plague. W. Boghurst. 1894.\n\n London, Ancient and Modern, from a Sani"} -{"id": 600, "text": "tary Point of View. G. V.\n Poore. 1889.\n\n „ Birds and Insects. T. D. Pigott. 1892.\n\n „ Botanic Gardens, Pierre E. F. Perrédès. Pub. by Wellcome\n Chemical Research Laboratories. No. 62.\n\n „ Bygone. F. Ross. 1892.\n\n „ City Suburbs as they are To-Day. 1893.\n\n „ City: Its History, &c. W. J. Loftie.\n\n „ Curiosities of. Timbs. 1868.\n\n „ Environs of. Daniel Lysons. 1790–96.\n\n „ Familiar, J. C. L’Estrange. 1890.\n\n „ Fascination of. Series ed. by Sir W. Besant.\n\n „ Flora. Alexander Irvine. 1838.\n\n „ Garland. W. E. Henley. 1895.\n\n „ Greater. E. Walford. 1893–95.\n\n „ Hand-book of. Peter Cunningham. 1850.\n\n „ Highways and Byways in. Mrs. E. T. Cook. 1903.\n\n „ History of. Noorthouck. 1773.\n\n „ „ William Maitland. 1756.\n\n „ „ Plantagenet, Tudor Times, &c. Sir W. Besant.\n\n „ Illustrata. Wilkinson.\n\n „ Its Neighbourhood, &c. Hugh"} -{"id": 601, "text": "son David. 1805–9.\n\n „ Journey to. John Cole. 1825.\n\n „ Knight, Charles. Revised by E. Walford.\n\n „ Life Seen Through German Eyes. Brand. 1887.\n\n „ Memories. C. W. Heckethorne. 1900.\n\n „ Our Rambles in Old. E. S. M. Smith. 1895.\n\n „ Pageant of. Richard Davey. 1906.\n\n „ Past and Present. H. B. Wheatley and P. Cunningham, 1891.\n\n „ Pleasure Gardens of the Eighteenth Century, W. Wroth. 1896.\n\n „ Redivivium. James Peter Malcolm. 1807.\n\n „ Reliques of Old London and Suburbs. H. B, Wheatley. 1896.\n\n „ Round About. W. J. Loftée, 1893.\n\n „ Signs and Inscriptions, Wheatley and Philip Norman. 1893.\n\n „ Some Account of. Thomas Pennant. 1793.\n\n „ Soul of. F. H. Madox Heuffer. 1905.\n\n „ Story of. H. B. Wheatley. 1904.\n\n „ Survey of. (London County Council.) C. R. Ashbee. 1900.\n\n „ „ Stowe. Several Editions. 1598, 1633, &c.\n\n „ of To-Day. C. E. Pascoe. 1885.\n\n „ "} -{"id": 602, "text": " Town. Marcus Fall. 1880.\n\n „ Vanished and Vanishing. P. Norman, 1905.\n\n „ Vestiges of Old. Archer J. Wykeham. 1851.\n\n „ Walks Through. Hughson David. 1817.\n\n „ „ In. Augustus Hare. 1901.\n\n Londres et Les Anglais en 1771. Join Lambert. 1890.\n\n London, G., and H. Wise. Complete Gardener. 1701.\n\n Loudon, J. C. Arboretum. 1838.\n\n „ Encyclopædia of Gardening. 1822.\n\n „ „ of Plants. 1838.\n\n „ Gardeners’ Magazine.\n\n „ Laying Out, &c., of Cemetries, 1843.\n\n\n Magalotti. Travels of Cosmo III., Grand Duke of Tuscany, through\n England, 1669. 1821.\n\n Maitland, William. History and Survey of London. 1756.\n\n Marylebone, Random Sketches in. F. H. Hallam. 1885.\n\n „ and St. Pancras, G. Cluich. 1890.\n\n Mayfair and Belgravia. G. Cluich. 1892.\n\n Miller, Philip. Gardeners’ and Florists’ Dictionary. 1724.\n\n „ „ „ Dictionary. 1759.\n\n Mirabeau. Letters during his Resi"} -{"id": 603, "text": "dence in England. 1832.\n\n Misson, H. Memoirs and Observations in his Travels over England.\n Translated by Mr. Ozell. 1719.\n\n Montagu, Letters of Mrs. E. 1809–13.\n\n „ Mrs. E. By J. Doran. 1873.\n\n Montgomerie, James. Chimney Sweepers’ Friend. 1824.\n\n Municipal History, Bibliography of. Cross. 1897.\n\n\n Nichol. Progress of Queen Elizabeth.\n\n Nisbet, J. British Forest Trees. 1895.\n\n Norden. Notes on his Map of London, 1593. H. B. Wheatley. 1877.\n\n\n Open Lands, Inclosure and Preservation of. Sir Robert Hunter.\n Reprint. 1897.\n\n\n Parliamentary Reports--\n Committee on the Public Parks, &c. 1887.\n „ „ Best Means of Preserving ... Use of Forests,\n Commons, &c. 1865.\n Other Reports: see Catalogue of Parliamentary Papers, 1801–1908.\n P. and S. King & Co.\n Plan of Improvements proposed opposite Buckingham Palace. 1850.\n Return of the Outlay on Battersea Park. 1856.\n Select Committee on Open Spaces. "} -{"id": 604, "text": "1865.\n\n Parks, Gardens, &c., of London. Edward Kemp. 1851.\n\n „ Hyde Park, from Domesday to Date. J. Ashton. 1896.\n\n „ Municipal, and Gardens. Lieut.-Col. J. G. Sexby. 1905.\n\n „ and Pleasure Grounds. C. H. J. Smith, 1852.\n\n „ „ Open Spaces. London County Council Sixpenny Guide. 1906.\n\n „ „ „ and Thoroughfares. A. M’Kenzie. 1869.\n\n „ Royal, and Gardens. N. Cole. 1877.\n\n „ Story of the London. Jacob Larwood. 1872.\n\n Parkinson, John. Paradise in Sole. 1629.\n\n Pepys, Samuel. Diary.\n\n Piccadilly and Pall Mall, Round About. H. B. Wheatley. 1817.\n\n Philips, Henry. Sylva Florifera. 1823. Flora Historica, &c.\n\n Phillips, Sir Richard. Morning Walk to Kew. 1817.\n\n Pulteney, Richard. History of the Progress of Botany in England. 1790.\n\n Pyne, Wm. H. History of the Royal Residences. 1819.\n\n\n Regent’s Park. Some Account of the Improvements. 1814.\n\n „ „ „ „ „ . John White. 1815.\n\n „ „ Literary Pocket Boo"} -{"id": 605, "text": "k. 1823.\n\n „ „ Picturesque Guide to. 1829.\n\n Repton. Landscape Gardening. Ed. J. C. Loudon. 1840.\n\n\n St. Botolph, Aldgate. A. G. B. Atkinson. 1898.\n\n St. James’s Square. Dasent. 1895.\n\n Selby, P. J. British Forest Trees. 1841.\n\n Shipton, Mother. Life and Death of. 1687.\n\n „ „ Prophecies. Ed. E. Pearson. 1871.\n\n „ „ „ C. Hindley. 1877.\n\n Soho, Two Centuries of. J. H. Cardwell. 1898.\n\n „ and its Associations. E. F. Rimbault. 1895.\n\n Sorbière, Samuel de. A Journey to London. [William King.] 1698.\n\n „ „ A Voyage to England. 1709.\n\n „ „ Journey to London. 1832.\n\n „ „ Reponse aux Faussetés ... dans la relation du\n Voyage en Angleterre. 1675.\n\n Stepney. Two Centuries of History. W. H. Frere. 1892.\n\n Stowe. Survey of London. 1598.\n\n „ Munday’s Edition. 1633.\n\n „ Strype’s Edition. 1720.\n\n Suburban Reliques of Old Londons. H. B, Wheatley. Draw"} -{"id": 606, "text": "n by T. R. Way.\n 1715.\n\n Switzer, Stephen. Nobleman, Gentleman, and Gardener’s Recreation.\n 1715.\n\n\n Tradescant, John. Museum Tradescantianum. 1656.\n\n Trinity Hospital, Mile End Road, C. R. Ashbee, 1896.\n\n\n Westminster, Antiquities of. John T. Smith. 1807.\n\n „ Abbey. W. J. Loftie. 1890.\n\n „ „ Dean Stanley.\n\n „ „ MSS. Records.\n\n „ „ Richard Widmore. 1751.\n\n „ Memorials of the City, St. Peter’s College, &c. Rev.\n MacKenzie E. C. Walcott. 1849.\n\n Wheatley. Observations on Modern Gardening. 1793.\n\n Whitten, W. London in Song. 1898.\n\n Wren, Christopher. Parentalia. 1750.\n\n\n\n\nHYDE PARK AND KENSINGTON GARDENS\n\n\nLIST OF TREES AND SHRUBS\n\n_N.B._--Those marked thus * are not in existence at the present time. A\nsmall number proved unsuitable for London, and others have been removed\nfrom the plantations for various reasons.\n\n Acer campestre.\n „ circinatum.\n „ "} -{"id": 607, "text": " creticum.\n „ dasycarpum.\n „ macrophyllum.\n „ Negundo.\n „ „ foliis variegatis.\n „ palmatum.\n „ platanoides.\n „ „ Reitenbachii.\n „ „ Schwedleri.\n „ Pseudo-platanus.\n „ „ „ foliis variegatis.\n „ „ „ purpureum.\n „ rubrum.\n „ saccharum.\n „ saccharum nigrum.\n „ tartaricum.\n Æsculus Hippocastanum.\n „ „ laciniata.\n „ „ rubicunda.\n Ailantus glandulosa.\n Alnus barbata.\n „ glutinosa.\n „ „ incisa.\n „ „ laciniata.\n „ „ quercifolia.\n Amorpha fruticosa.\n Amygdalus (Prunus) communis.\n „ „ „ amara.\n Amygdalus communis macrocarpa.\n „ nana"} -{"id": 608, "text": ".\n Amelanchier canadensis.\n „ vulgaris.\n Aralia chinensis.\n „ spinosa.\n Arbutus Andrachne.\n „ Unedo.\n „ „ rubra.\n Aristolochia Sipho.\n Armeniaca (Prunus) sibirica.\n Artemisia arborescens.\n Asimina triloba.\n Aucuba japonica.\n „ „ maculata.\n „ „ viridis.\n Azalea (Rhododendron) sinense.\n „ pontica.\n „ nudiflorum.\n\n Berberis Aquifolium.\n „ Darwinii.\n „ Fortunei.\n „ japonica.*\n „ repens.\n „ stenophylla.\n „ vulgaris.\n „ „ foliis purpureis.\n Betula alba.\n „ „ pendula.\n Betula fruticosa.\n „ lenta.\n „ nana.\n „ nigra.\n „ populifolia.\n „ urticifolia"} -{"id": 609, "text": ".\n Buxus balearica.\n „ caucasica.\n „ sempervirens arborescens.\n „ „ aureo-marginita.\n\n Caragana arborescens.\n „ Chamluga.\n „ frutescens.\n „ spinosa.\n Carpinus betulus.\n Carya amara.\n Caryopteris Mastacanthus.\n Castanea sativa.\n Catalpa bignonioides.\n Cedrus Deodora.*\n „ Libani.\n Cerasus. _See_ Prunus.\n Cercis Siliquastrum.\n Cistus florentinus.\n „ ladaniferus.\n „ monspeliensis.\n Clematis Flammula.\n „ Jackmani.\n „ montana.\n „ Vitalba.\n Celtis Tournefortii.\n Clerodendron trichotomum.\n Colutea arborescens.\n Cornus alba.\n „ „ Spæthii.\n „ Mas.\n „ „ aurea elegantissima.\n „ „ variegata.\n „ "} -{"id": 610, "text": " sanguinea.\n „ stolonifera.\n Coronilla Emerus.\n Coryllus Avellana.\n „ maxima atropurpurea.\n Cotoneaster acuminata.\n „ bacillaris.\n Cotoneaster frigida.\n „ horizontalis.\n „ microphylla.\n „ Nummularia.\n „ Simmonsii.\n Cratægus altaica.\n „ Azarolus.\n „ coccinea.\n „ cordata.\n „ „ accrifolia.\n „ „ maxima.\n „ Crus-galli.\n „ „ ovalifolium.\n „ „ pyracanthafolia.\n „ „ splendens.\n „ dippeliana.\n „ heterophylla.\n „ macrantha.\n „ nigra.\n „ orientalis.\n „ Oxyacantha.\n „ „ aurea.\n „ „ eriocarpa.\n "} -{"id": 611, "text": " „ „ flexuosa.\n „ „ flore pleno albo.\n „ „ flore pleno coccineo.\n „ „ flore pleno puniceo.\n „ „ flore pleno roseo.\n „ „ flore pleno rubro.\n „ „ flore roseo.\n „ „ laciniata.\n „ „ pendula.\n „ „ præcox.\n „ „ quercifolia.\n „ „ stricta.\n „ punctata.\n „ „ brevispina.\n „ „ xanthocarpa.\n „ pyracantha.\n „ „ Lalandi.\n „ siniaca.\n „ spathulata.\n „ tanacetifolia.\n Cupressus Lawsoniana.*\n „ Nootkatensis.*\n „ sempervirens.*\n Cydonia japonica.\n „ Maulei.\n „ vulgaris"} -{"id": 612, "text": " lusitanica.\n „ „ maliformis.\n Cytisus albus.\n „ alpinus.\n „ nigricans.\n „ præcox.\n „ racemosus.\n „ scoparius.\n „ sessilifolius.\n „ tinctoria.\n\n Daphne Mezereum.\n „ pontica.\n Diospyros Lotus.\n „ virginiana.\n Diplopappus chrysophylla.\n Deutzia crenata.\n „ „ flore pleno.\n „ „ gracilis.\n „ scabra.\n\n Elæagnus angustifolia.\n „ argentea.\n Euonymus europæus.\n „ „ fructo albo.\n „ japonicus.\n „ „ argenteus.\n „ „ aureo-variegatus.\n „ „ radicans.\n „ „ „ foliis pictis.\n „ latifolius.\n\n Fagus sylvatica.\n „ „ cuprea."} -{"id": 613, "text": "\n „ „ pendula.\n „ „ purpurea.\n „ „ „ pendula.\n Fatsia japonica.\n Ficus Carica.\n Fontanesia phillyræoides.\n Forsythia intermedia.\n „ suspensa.\n „ viridissima.\n Fraxinus americana cinerea.\n „ „ elliptica.\n „ „ juglandifolia.\n „ excelsior.\n „ „ angustifolia.\n „ „ aurea.\n „ „ heterophylla.\n „ „ pendula.\n „ Ornus.\n „ „ angustifolia.\n „ parvifolia.\n\n Genista hispanica.\n Gleditschia triacanthos.\n „ sinensis.\n „ „ nana.\n Gymnocladus canadensis.\n\n Halesia diptera.\n „ tetraptera.\n Halimodendron argenteum.\n Hamamelis virgini"} -{"id": 614, "text": "ca.\n Hedera Helix.\n „ „ arborescens.\n „ „ caenwoodiana.\n „ „ canariensis.\n „ „ „ arborescens.\n „ „ chrysocarpa.\n „ „ colchica.\n „ „ dentata.\n „ „ digitata.\n „ „ lucida.\n „ „ maderensis variegata.\n „ „ minima.\n „ „ taurica.\n „ „ variegata.\n Hibiscus syriacus--and numerous garden varieties.\n Hippophæ rhamnoides.\n „ salicifolia.\n Hydrangea hortensia.\n „ paniculata grandiflora.\n Hypericum calycinum.\n „ elatum.\n „ hircinum.\n „ patulum.\n\n Ilex Aquifolium.\n „ „ albo-picta.\n „ „ altaclerense.\n „ „ angustifolia.\n „ „ "} -{"id": 615, "text": "„ variegata.\n „ „ argentea variegata.\n „ „ argentea marginata.\n „ „ aureo-picta.\n „ „ aureo-regina.\n „ „ balearica.\n „ „ camelliæfolia.\n „ „ ferox.\n „ „ „ argentea.\n „ „ „ aurea.\n „ „ fructo luteo.\n „ „ heterophylla.\n „ „ Hodginsii.\n „ „ latispina.\n „ „ laurifolia.\n „ „ myrtifolia.\n „ „ recurva.\n „ „ scotica.\n „ „ Shepherdii.\n „ „ Watereriana.\n „ dipyrena\n „ latifolia.\n „ opaca.\n\n Jasminum fruticans.\n „ humile.\n „ nudiflorum.\n „ officinale.\n Juniperus chinensis.*"} -{"id": 616, "text": "\n „ communis.*\n „ nana.*\n „ Sabina tamariscifolia.\n „ „ procumbens.\n „ virginiana.*\n Juglans cinerea.\n „ nigra.\n „ regia.\n\n Kerria japonica.\n Koelreuteria paniculata.\n\n Laburnum alpinum.\n „ vulgare.\n „ „ quercifolium.\n „ „ Watereri.\n Laurus nobilis.\n Leycesteria formosa.\n Ligustrum Ibota.\n „ japonicum.\n „ lucidum.\n „ ovalifolium.\n „ „ foliis aureis.\n „ Quihoui.\n „ vulgare.\n Liquidamber styraciflua.\n Liriodendron tulipifera.\n Lonicera Caprifolium.\n „ flexuosa.\n „ involucrata.\n „ Periclymenum.\n Lycium chinense.\n „ hamilifolium.*\n\n "} -{"id": 617, "text": " Magnolia acuminata.\n „ conspicua.\n „ „ Soulangeana.\n „ grandiflora.\n „ stellata.\n Morus alba.\n „ „ pendula.\n „ nigra.\n\n Osmanthus Aquifolium ilicifolius.\n\n Pavia (Æsculus) flava.\n „ „ purpurascens.\n „ glabra arguta.\n „ humulis.\n „ neglecta.\n „ parvifolia.\n „ rubra.\n Philadelphus coronarius.\n „ „ tomentosus.\n „ floribundus.\n „ „ verrucosus.\n „ Gordonianus.\n „ grandiflorus floribundus.\n „ hirsutus.\n „ inodorus.\n „ Lemoinei.\n Phillyrea angustifolium.\n „ decora.\n „ latifolia.\n Pho"} -{"id": 618, "text": "tinia serrulata.\n Pinus cembra.*\n „ insignis.*\n „ Laricio.*\n „ sylvestris.\n Planera aquatica.*\n „ Richardi.*\n Platanus accrifolia.\n Populus alba.\n „ „ pyramidalis (bolleana).\n „ balsamifera.\n „ canescens.\n „ deltoidea.\n „ „ aurea.\n „ macrophylla.\n „ nigra.\n „ „ betulæfolia.\n „ „ pyramidalis.\n „ tremula.\n „ „ pendula.\n Prunus including Cerasus and persica.\n „ persica camelliæflora.\n „ „ flore roseo pleno.\n „ „ „ alba pleno.\n „ „ dianthiflora pleno.\n „ Avium.\n „ „ flore pleno.\n „ „ pendula.\n „ cerasifera.\n „ „ atropurpureum.\n "} -{"id": 619, "text": " „ communis.\n „ (Cerasus) acida semperflorens.\n „ japonicas flore roseo pleno.\n „ pseudo-cerasus.\n „ (Padus) Mahaleb.\n „ „ pendula.\n „ Padus.\n „ rotundifolia.\n „ serotina.\n „ (Laurocerasus) caucasica.\n „ „ colchica.\n „ „ Laurocerasus.\n „ serrulata.\n „ spinosa.\n „ triloba.\n „ Watereri.\n Ptelea trifoliata.\n Pterocarya caucasica.\n Pyrus Aria.\n „ „ salicifolia.\n „ „ undulata.\n „ amygdaliformis.\n „ arbutifolia.\n „ Aucuparia.\n „ auricularis.\n „ baccata.\n „ communis.\n „ floribunda.\n „ hybrida.\n „ intermedia.\n „ lanata.\n „ malus astracani"} -{"id": 620, "text": "ca.\n „ nivalis.\n „ pinnatifida.\n „ rivularis.\n „ spectabilis.\n\n Quercus Ægilops.\n „ cerris.\n „ „ cana-major.\n „ „ cana-minor.\n „ „ fulhamensis.\n „ coccinea.\n „ fastigiata.\n „ filicifolia.\n „ Ilex.\n „ „ Gramuntia.\n „ lucombeana.\n „ palustris.\n „ pedunculata.\n „ „ fastigiata.\n „ rubra.\n „ „ longifolia.\n „ Suber.\n\n Rhamnus Alaternus maculata.\n „ alpina.\n „ cathartica.\n „ Frangula.\n „ infectoria.\n Rhododendron Cunninghami.\n „ dauricum.\n „ hybrids in variety.\n „ ponticum.\n „ præcox.\n Rhus canadensi"} -{"id": 621, "text": "s.\n „ copallina.\n „ cotinus.\n „ glabra laciniata.\n „ typhina.\n „ „ frutescens.\n Ribes alpinum.\n „ „ pumilum.\n „ aureum.\n „ „ præcox.\n „ Diacantha.\n „ nigrum variegatum.\n „ Sanguineum.\n „ „ albidum.\n Robinia hispida.\n „ inermis.\n „ Pseudacacia.\n „ „ angustifolium.\n „ „ bessoniana.\n „ „ Decaisneana.\n „ „ dubea.\n „ „ elegans.\n „ „ fastigiata.\n „ „ heterophylla.\n „ „ inermis.\n „ „ monophylla.\n „ „ semperflorens.\n „ „ tortuosa.\n „ viscosa.\n Rosa arvensis.\n "} -{"id": 622, "text": " „ Banksiæ.\n „ canina.\n „ damascena.\n „ gallica centifolia.\n „ „ muscosa.\n „ indica.\n „ multiflora.\n „ noisettiana.\n „ rubiginosa.\n „ rugosa.\n „ „ flore pleno.\n „ wichuraiana.\n „ hybrids in variety.\n Rosmarinus officinalis.\n Rubus fruticosus.\n „ „ albo-pleno.\n „ „ rubra-pleno.\n „ laciniatus.\n „ nutkanus.\n Ruscus aculeatus.\n\n Salisburia (Ginkgo) adiantifolia.\n Salix alba.\n „ babylonica.\n „ Caprea.\n „ daphnoides.\n „ rosmarinifolia.\n „ viminalis.\n Sambucus nigra.\n „ „ laciniata.\n „ „ foliis aureis.\n „ racemosa.\n „ „ plumosa.\n „ „ „ "} -{"id": 623, "text": "aurea.\n Skimmia Fortunei.\n „ japonica.\n Spartium junceum.\n Smilax aspera.\n „ glauca.\n „ rotundifolia.\n Sophora japonica.\n Spiræa bullata.\n „ canescens.\n „ cantoniensis.*\n „ chamædrifolia.*\n „ discolor.*\n „ japonica.*\n „ „ Bumalda.\n „ prunifolia flore pleno.\n „ salicifolia.\n „ sorbifolia.\n „ Thunbergii.\n Symphoricarpus orbiculatus.\n „ racemosus.\n Syringa Emodi.\n „ Josikæa.\n „ persica.\n „ „ alba.\n „ vulgaris.\n And many garden varieties.\n\n Taxodium distichum.\n Taxus baccata.\n „ „ adpressa.\n „ „ „ aurea.\n „ „ Dovastoni.\n „ „ fastigiata.\n"} -{"id": 624, "text": " „ „ fructo luteo.\n „ canadensis.\n „ cuspidata.\n Thuja dolobrata.*\n „ japonica.*\n „ occidentalis.\n „ orientalis.\n „ „ aureo-variegata.\n „ plicata.*\n Tilia americana.\n „ argentea.\n „ cordata.\n „ dasystyla.\n „ petiolaris.\n „ platyphyllus asplenifolia.\n „ vulgaris.\n\n Ulex europæus.\n „ „ flore pleno.\n „ nanus.\n Ulmus americanus.\n „ „ pendula.\n „ campestris.\n „ „ Louis van Houtte.\n „ „ sarniensis.\n „ „ Wheatleyi.\n „ glabra.\n „ „ cornubiensis.\n „ „ stricta.\n „ montana.\n „ „ atropurpureum.\n „ „ fastigiata aurea.\n "} -{"id": 625, "text": " „ „ pendula.\n „ „ vegeta.\n „ pedunculata.\n\n Veronica cupressoides.\n „ Traversii.\n Viburnum dentatum.\n „ Lantana.\n „ Lentago.\n „ Opulus.\n „ „ sterile.\n „ Tinus.\n „ „ hirtum.\n „ plicatum.\n\n Weigela (Diervilla) florida.\n „ hybrida.\n „ Looymansi aurea.\n Wistaria chinensis.\n „ multijuga.\n\n Xanthorrhiza apiifolia.*\n\n Yucca angustifolia.\n „ filamentosa.\n „ „ flaccida.\n „ gloriosa.\n „ recurvifolia.\n\n\n\n\nEXAMPLES OF PLANTING FLOWER-BEDS IN HYDE PARK IN 1905–6\n\n\nBED 1.\n\n1. Autumn planting for spring flowers:--Hyacinths, margin of Saxifrage.\nDay Lily, thinly planted, for bright green foliage growing up with and\nabove the Hyacinths.\n\n2"} -{"id": 626, "text": ". Spring planting for early summer flowers:--Pansies for margin 18\ninches wide, the centre of bed planted with Ragged Robin.\n\n3. Summer planting for later summer and autumn display:--Large plants\nof Calceolaria Burbidgeii 8 feet high, Cassia corymbosa 6 feet high,\nHeliotrope 6 feet to 7 feet high, finishing off with Nicotiana affinis\nand sylvestris, Lantana Drap d’Or with Lilium longifiorum interspersed.\n\n\nBED 2.\n\n1. Autumn planting for spring flowers:---Tulips, margin of Saxifrage.\nIris germanica for foliage planted thinly with bulbs.\n\n2. Delphiniums, deep blue, 18 inch margin of yellow Pansies.\n\n3. Broad margin of Dell’s dark Beet, remainder of bed well planted with\nCannas, Alphonse Bouvier, and Flambeau, brilliant crimson flowers.\n\n\nBED 3.\n\n1. Autumn planting for spring flowers:---Narcissus Emperor with a 6 to\n1 mixture of Hyacinth King of the Blues, margin of Saxifrage.\n\n2. Broad margin of Pansies, remainder of bed filled with Erigeron\nspeciosum.\n\n3. Large plants in pots of Ivy-lea"} -{"id": 627, "text": "ved Pelargonium Madame Crousse, 6\nfeet high, placed 5 feet apart. Margin and intermediate spaces planted\nwith dwarf plants of a deeper coloured Ivy-leaved Pelargonium.\n\n\nBED 4.\n\n1. Autumn planting for spring flowers:---Hyacinths Czar Peter,\nlight-blue, Gigantea blush, margin of Saxifrage.\n\n2. Dictamnus in two colours, about 2 feet apart, ground of bed Anemone\ncoronaria margined with Saxifraga Camposii.\n\n3. Gymnothrix latifolia, Kochia scoparia tricophylla interspersed with\nAcalypha musaica.\n\n\nBED 5.\n\n1. Dark Wallflowers with margin of Gardiner’s Garter (Phalaris).\n\n2. Pelargonium Achievement 4 feet high and 4 feet apart, centre of bed\nand margin planted with dwarf plants of same variety.\n\n3. Celosia pyramidalis crimson and gold, with some crimson Cockscombs\nintermixed, the remaining portion of bed thickly planted to the margin\nwith Leucophytum Brownii.\n\n\nBED 6.\n\n1. Autumn planting for spring flowers:--Hyacinth Grande Maitre, blue.\n\n2. An interesting combination of the following flowers"} -{"id": 628, "text": " in rotation,\nfresh ones being introduced as others faded:--Linum perenne, Ixias,\nSparaxis, and Calochortus, in variety, Oxalis rosea, Camassia\nesculenta, Lychnis Viscaria, Crassula coccinea, Balsams with double\npink blooms. The setting for these flowers was a variegated grass. A\ngood effect was the result for many weeks.\n\n3. For the remainder of the season this bed was filled with a\nsuccession of Lilium speciosum roseum on a green ground, with a margin\nof Agathea cœlestis.\n\n\n\n\nERRATA\n\n\n Page 16, line 24, _for_ ‘Sir John Sloane’ _read_ ‘Sir Hans Sloane.’\n „ 42, „ 4, _for_ ‘places’ _read_ ‘plans.’\n „ 77, „ 15, _for_ ‘Quintinge’ _read_ ‘Quintinye.’\n „ 241, „ 7, _for_ ‘battle of Alma’ _read_ ‘battle of the Alma.’\n\n\n\n\nFOOTNOTES\n\n\n[1] Close Roll, Henry VII.\n\n[2] MSS. Manor Roll in the Record Office.\n\n[3] MSS. Manor Roll, Archives of Ely Cathedral.\n\n[4] See Alexander Necham, _De Naturis Rerum_, twelfth century.\n\n[5] Stowe, “Survey of London.”\n\n[6] Stowe’s “Survey o"} -{"id": 629, "text": "f London.”\n\n[7] See p. 171.\n\n[8] As Vauxhall is not included in Lieut.-Col. Sexby’s exhaustive book,\nthe following details are not very accessible. It was bought from Mr.\nCobeldick for £43,500.\n\n Made up by Lambeth Vestry £11,746 17 6\n „ Charity Commissioners 12,500 0 0\n „ London County Council 11,746 17 6\n „ Donations and other sources 7,506 5 0\n -----------\n £43,500 0 0\n\nThe fencing and laying out was done by the Kyrle Society. The Park was\nopened by the present King and Queen, July 7, 1890.\n\n[9] See “Chitty’s Statutes,” by J. M. Lely, under “Metropolis.”\n\n[10] See page 12.\n\n\n\n\nINDEX\n\n\n A\n\n Acreage of Parks, 4, 121\n\n Aiglio, 241\n\n Albert Memorial, 50\n\n Alma-Tadema, Sir Laurence, 334\n\n Alpine plants, 330\n\n Anne Boleyn, 110\n\n ---- of Cleves, 110\n\n ---- Queen, 41\n\n Annual flowers, 331\n\n Apothecaries’ Garden, Chelsea, 317\n\n Arch"} -{"id": 630, "text": "bishop’s Park, 307\n\n Archery, 96, 97\n\n Argyll Lodge, 344\n\n Artillery Garden, 292\n\n ---- Ground, 10, 291\n\n Austin Friars, 14\n\n Avery Hill, 183\n\n Avondale Park, 130\n\n\n B\n\n Bacon and Gray’s Inn, 283\n\n Balloon ascents, 292\n\n Bank of England, 258\n\n Banqueting-houses, 26, 85, 86, 112\n\n Barnard’s Inn, 263\n\n Battersea enamel, 155\n\n Battersea Park, 120, 155–161\n\n ---- bicycling in, 161\n\n ---- chrysanthemums in, 160\n\n ---- duel in, 157\n\n ---- early history of, 156\n\n ---- Red House in, 156\n\n ---- sub-tropical garden in, 158\n\n Bayard’s Castle, 8\n\n Bergne, Lady, garden in Kensington, 335\n\n Bethlehem Hospital (Bedlam), 237\n\n Bethnal Green Gardens, 134\n\n Birdcage Walk, 61\n\n Birds, wild, in Greenwich Park, 117\n\n ---- in Victoria Park, 139\n\n ---- on Hampstead Heath, 198\n\n Blackfriars, 9\n\n Blackheath, 107, 202\n\n Bostall Wood, 199\n\n Botanical Garden, Regent’s Park, 17, 98\n\n ---- Society, 98\n\n Brewers’ Almshouses, 294\n\n Bridgeman, 40, 42\n\n Bridgewater House, 350\n\n Bro"} -{"id": 631, "text": "ad Walk, Regent’s Park, 101\n\n Brockwell Park, 170–174\n\n ---- old English garden in, 170–172\n\n ---- purchase of, 172\n\n ---- rooks in, 174\n\n Brook Green, 213\n\n Broome House, 345\n\n Brown, Sir Richard, 293, 325\n\n Buckingham House, 76, 351\n\n ---- Palace, 59, 350–355\n\n Bunhill Fields, 11, 248–251\n\n Bunyan, John, tomb, 249\n\n Burial-grounds, 3, 242–260\n\n ---- Friends’, 249\n\n ---- in the City, 254–259\n\n ---- Marylebone, 245\n\n ---- St. John’s Wood, 245\n\n ---- St. Pancras, 243\n\n ---- Stepney, 245\n\n Burton’s Court, 312\n\n Burton, Decimus, 93, 100\n\n\n C\n\n Cadogan Place, 239\n\n Cake-house in Hyde Park, 28, 32\n\n Camberwell Park, 126, 166\n\n ---- Green, 168, 215\n\n Cam House, 343\n\n Campden Hill, gardens on, 343\n\n Carlton House, 77\n\n Caroline, Queen, 38, 40, 42, 45, 74, 75\n\n Catalpa, 153, 286\n\n Cedars, 17, 321\n\n Chamberlain, Mr., house at Highbury, 191\n\n Charles I., 60\n\n Charles II., 61, 63, 67, 147\n\n Charlton, 357\n\n Charterhouse, 289–291\n\n Chelsea, 311\n\n ---- Ranelagh "} -{"id": 632, "text": "Gardens, 315\n\n ---- Waterworks, 38, 76\n\n Chelsea Hospital, 311–317\n\n ---- burial-ground, 314\n\n ---- statue in, 313\n\n Chelsea Physic Garden, 16, 17, 317\n\n ---- cedars, 321\n\n ---- curators of, 320\n\n ---- new management of, 319\n\n ---- trees in, 323\n\n ---- visit of Linnæus, 324\n\n Chrysanthemums, 17, 159\n\n City Corporation Parks, 4\n\n Clapham Common, 205–207\n\n Clement’s Inn, 262\n\n Clifford’s Inn, 263\n\n Climate, changes of, 69, 98, 128\n\n Clissold Park, 141–144\n\n Commons, 185–216\n\n ---- Clapham, 205\n\n ---- Deptford, 203\n\n ---- Hackney, 188\n\n ---- Old Oak, 199\n\n ---- Peckham Rye, 204\n\n ---- Plumstead, 201\n\n ---- Streatham, 211\n\n ---- Tooting, 207\n\n ---- Wandsworth, 212\n\n Commons’ Preservation Society, 185\n\n Commonwealth, sale of Royal Parks in time of, 28, 87\n\n Cost of maintenance of Parks, 5\n\n County in Town Exhibition, 18\n\n Cox’s Walk, 177\n\n Cromwell, Oliver, 29, 233\n\n Cromwell, Thomas, seizure of gardens by, 12\n\n\n D\n\n Dahlia, 341\n\n Deer, 36, 67, 74, 88\n\n "} -{"id": 633, "text": " Dell in Hyde Park, 52\n\n Deptford Park, 178, 203\n\n Devonshire House, 335\n\n Dolphin Fountain, Hyde Park, 39\n\n Downing Street, 72\n\n Drapers’ Company Garden, 12, 292\n\n Duck Island, 62, 72, 73\n\n Duels, 33, 86, 157, 341\n\n Duke Humphrey’s Walk, 77\n\n Duke of York’s School, Chelsea, 311\n\n Dulwich College, 175\n\n Dulwich Park, 174–177\n\n ---- rock garden in, 176\n\n\n E\n\n Eel Brook Common, 213\n\n Eltham Park, 182\n\n Ely Place, 9, 14\n\n Embankment Gardens, 132\n\n Enfield, 323\n\n Evelyn, John, 29, 67, 79, 229, 232, 293, 309, 312, 325–326\n\n Exhibition of 1851, 48\n\n\n F\n\n Fairchild, Thomas, 18, 128, 223\n\n Fawcett, Henry, 163\n\n Fetter Lane, 15\n\n Fickett’s Field, 236\n\n Finsbury Circus, 237\n\n ---- Park, 120, 125, 139–141\n\n ---- Square, 10, 237\n\n Fire of London, 12, 15\n\n Flowers at the Grey-coat School, 298.\n\n ---- in Greenwich Park, 117\n\n ---- in Holborn, 9\n\n ---- in Hyde Park, 46–48\n\n ---- in Municipal Parks, 124\n\n ---- in the Temple Gardens, 272\n\n ---- of Shakespeare, 151, 1"} -{"id": 634, "text": "54, 171\n\n ---- suited to London, 330–335\n\n Fogs, 69, 128\n\n Foley House, 89\n\n Fordyce, Mr., 89, 90\n\n Foundling Hospital, 296\n\n French Gardeners, 61\n\n Fuchsia, 17\n\n Fulham Palace, 308, 311\n\n ---- gardens at, 345\n\n\n G\n\n Gardeners, 14\n\n ---- Company, 14\n\n Gardens, Castle, 8\n\n ---- City, 14–16\n\n ---- monastic, 7–8\n\n Gay, lines on Lincoln’s Inn Fields, 235, 282\n\n Gerard, John, 16, 17, 19\n\n Gibson, Mr., 137–158, 228\n\n Godfrey, Sir Edmondsbury, 105\n\n Goose Green, 213\n\n Gordon riots, 194–233\n\n Gospel Oak, 197\n\n Grant, Baron, 228\n\n Gray’s Inn, 283–288\n\n Green Park, 56–73\n\n ---- fireworks in, 75\n\n ---- railings round, 76\n\n ---- Ranger’s lodge in, 76\n\n Green Walk, St. James’s Park, 77\n\n Greens, 213\n\n Greenwich Fair, 115\n\n Greenwich Park, 106–118\n\n ---- birds in, 117\n\n ---- burials in, 107\n\n ---- flowers in, 117\n\n ---- Queen’s House, 113\n\n ---- royal pageants in, 109–113\n\n ---- wild flowers in, 116\n\n Grey-coat School, Westminster, 297\n\n Grosley, Mr., 67, 281\n"} -{"id": 635, "text": "\n Grosvenor House, 337\n\n Gunning, The Misses, 69\n\n\n H\n\n Hackney, 16, 17\n\n ---- Commons, 188\n\n ---- Downs, 186, 189\n\n ---- Marsh, 189\n\n Hainault, Forest of, 122\n\n Hamilton Place, 35\n\n Hampstead Heath, 192–198\n\n ---- Jack Straw’s Castle, 195\n\n ---- Spaniards, 194\n\n ---- Wells, 192\n\n ---- wild flowers, 197\n\n Hatton, Sir Christopher, 14\n\n Heath, Bostall, 199\n\n ---- Hampstead, 192\n\n Henry VIII. and Hyde Park, 25\n\n ---- at Greenwich, 109\n\n Henry, Prince of Wales, 357–359\n\n Highbury Fields, 190\n\n Highgate, 10\n\n Hilly Fields, 203\n\n Holborn, 8, 16\n\n Holland House, 337–343\n\n Honourable Artillery Company, 97, 292\n\n Horniman Gardens, 177\n\n Hornsey Wood, 140\n\n Horse Guards’ Parade, 59, 72\n\n Horticultural Society, 17\n\n Hoxton, 18\n\n Hunting, 25, 85–86, 88\n\n Hyde, Manor of, 24\n\n Hyde Park, 23–55\n\n ---- area of flower beds, 48\n\n ---- boundaries, 24\n\n ---- cake-house in, 28, 32\n\n ---- deer in, 35\n\n ---- dell, 52\n\n ---- duels in, 33\n\n ---- flowers in, 46\n\n ---- f"} -{"id": 636, "text": "orts erected in, 27\n\n ---- fountains in, 39, 44, 54\n\n ---- frame-ground in, 47\n\n ---- gates, 54\n\n ---- hunting in, 25\n\n ---- keepers of, 35\n\n ---- Parliamentary army in, 28\n\n ---- Plague in, 32\n\n ---- railings round, 35, 46\n\n ---- reviews in, 35\n\n ---- Ring in, 28–30\n\n ---- roads in, 36\n\n ---- sale of, 28\n\n ---- trees in, 51\n\n ---- water in, 37, 42\n\n\n I\n\n Ice accident, 101\n\n Ice-house in Green Park, 74\n\n Inns of Court, 261–288\n\n Ironmongers’ Almshouses, 296\n\n Island Garden, Poplar, 133\n\n Isle of Dogs, 133\n\n Islip Abbot, 25\n\n\n J\n\n Jack Straw’s Castle, 194\n\n Jacobite Walk, 73\n\n James I., 59\n\n James II., 67\n\n Jefferies, Richard, 125, 210\n\n Johnson, Thomas, 17, 19\n\n\n K\n\n Kennington Common, 164\n\n Kennington Park, 164–166\n\n ---- fountain in, 166\n\n ---- historical incidents, 165\n\n Kensington Gardens, 41–50\n\n ---- trees in, 51\n\n Kensington Palace, 36–40\n\n Kent, landscape gardener, 40\n\n Kyrle Society, 121\n\n\n L\n\n Ladywell Recreation Ground, 203\n\n Lamb, C"} -{"id": 637, "text": "harles, 15, 279, 285\n\n Lambeth, 305\n\n Lammas Lands, 119, 186, 189\n\n Latimer, Bishop, 306, 308\n\n Laud, Archbishop, 305–306\n\n Lauderdale House, Waterlow Park, 147\n\n Le Nôtre, 61, 113\n\n Lincoln, Earl of, 8\n\n Lincoln��s Inn, 279–282\n\n Lincoln’s Inn Fields, 234, 282\n\n L’Obel, 16\n\n Loddige, 17\n\n London and Wise, 40\n\n London County Council, equipment of, 123\n\n ---- expenditure on parks, 6\n\n ---- inappropriate planting by, 189, 204\n\n ---- parks owned by, 4, 121\n\n London Fields, 188\n\n ---- Hospital Garden, 295\n\n Loudon, 54, 90, 99, 223\n\n\n M\n\n Mall, The, 61, 66, 68, 70, 73, 77\n\n Manor Park or Manor House Gardens, 182\n\n Marble Arch, 54\n\n ---- Hill, 121\n\n Marvel, Andrew, 149\n\n Mary, Queen, 40\n\n Marylebone Fields, 89, 92\n\n ---- origin of, 83\n\n Marylebone Park, 84–89\n\n ---- called Regent’s Park, 91\n\n ---- lease to the Duke of Portland, 90\n\n ---- Manor-house in, 89\n\n Maryon Park, 181\n\n Mayor of Garrett, 212\n\n Meath Gardens, 248\n\n ---- Earl of, 243\n\n Metropolitan Co"} -{"id": 638, "text": "mmons Act, 186, 188\n\n ---- Gardens Association, 121, 234, 243, 248\n\n Milton, 60\n\n Minet, Mr. William, 166\n\n Mirabeau, letters of, 128, 220\n\n Monastic gardens, 7, 8\n\n Montagu House, 222, 232, 335\n\n Montagu, Mrs., 222, 336\n\n Moorfields, 10–12\n\n Moorgate, 11\n\n Moravian Mission, 15, 311\n\n More, Sir Thomas, 311\n\n Mother Shipton, 104\n\n Municipal Parks, 119\n\n ---- acreage of, 121\n\n ---- criticisms upon, 184, 189, 204\n\n ---- equipment of, 123\n\n ---- flowers in, 124\n\n ---- formation of, 120, 123, 136\n\n ---- green-houses in, 124\n\n ---- laying out of, 126\n\n ---- old English gardens in, 127\n\n ---- situation of, 120\n\n Myatt’s Fields, Camberwell, 166–168\n\n ---- avenue in, 126, 168\n\n\n N\n\n Naming plants, 54\n\n Nash, architect, 90–91\n\n Navy, timber in Marylebone Park used by Cromwell for, 88\n\n Neate or Neyte, 24, 239\n\n Nell Gwynn, 67, 147\n\n Nesfield, 101\n\n Nevill, Bishop of Chichester, 15\n\n ---- Court, 15\n\n New River, 142–143\n\n North Woolwich tea garden, 134\n\n Nunhead"} -{"id": 639, "text": " Green, 213\n\n\n O\n\n Observatory, Greenwich, 108\n\n “Old English Gardens,” 151–154, 171\n\n Open Spaces, Select Committee on, 187\n\n Osborne, Dorothy, 60\n\n\n P\n\n Paddington Green, 213\n\n Pall Mall, 66\n\n Pardon Churchyard, Charterhouse, 236\n\n ---- St. Paul’s, 250\n\n Parkinson, John, 16, 298\n\n Parks, acreage of, 4, 6, 122\n\n ---- classes of, 3\n\n ---- duels in, 33, 86, 157\n\n ---- lighting of, 37, 79\n\n ---- maintenance of, 5, 6\n\n ---- Municipal, 3, 6, 121, 122, 159\n\n ---- Royal, 3, 6, 122, 157\n\n ---- sale of, 28, 87\n\n Park system, 22\n\n Parliament Hill, 192, 197\n\n Parson’s Green, 213\n\n Paul’s Cross, 252\n\n Pawlet, Sir William, 14\n\n Peckham Rye, 204\n\n Pennethorne, Sir James, 157\n\n Pepys, 12, 15, 31, 34, 65, 79, 115, 148, 180, 189, 206, 257, 280\n\n Piccadilly, 76\n\n Placentia or Plaisance, 108\n\n Plague, 32, 196, 226, 236, 238, 257\n\n Plane trees, 223\n\n Plants suited to London, 330–335\n\n Plumstead Common, 201\n\n Portland Place, 89\n\n Postman’s Park, 255\n\n Potatoes, 17\n\n Pr"} -{"id": 640, "text": "imrose Hill, 104\n\n Private gardens, 327–356\n\n\n Q\n\n Quaggy River, 182\n\n Queen’s House, Greenwich, 113–114\n\n Queen’s Walk, Green Park, 75\n\n Quintinye, de la, 61, 77\n\n\n R\n\n Ranelagh Gardens, 315\n\n Ranger’s Lodge, Green Park, 76\n\n ---- Greenwich Park, 115\n\n Ravensbourne, 203\n\n Ravenscourt Park, 152–154\n\n ---- old English garden in, 154\n\n ---- trees in, 153\n\n Red House, Battersea, 156\n\n Reform Bill riots, 46\n\n Regent’s Park, 83–105\n\n ---- architecture and houses, 91\n\n ---- banqueting houses in, 85\n\n ---- canal, 90\n\n ---- deer, 88\n\n ---- duels in, 86\n\n ---- flowers in, 101–102\n\n ---- formerly Marylebone Park, 84, 91\n\n ---- hunting in, 85–86\n\n ---- Manor-house in, 89, 97\n\n ---- railings, 103\n\n ---- sale by Cromwell, 87\n\n ---- Societies in, 96\n\n ---- stone vase in, 101\n\n ---- villas in, 93–94, 347\n\n Repton, Humphrey, 231–239\n\n Rhododendrons in Hyde Park, 53\n\n Ring in Hyde Park, 28–30\n\n Riots in Hyde Park, 45\n\n Rock gardens, 176\n\n Rooks, 174, 288\n\n Rosamond"} -{"id": 641, "text": "’s Pond, 58, 73\n\n Roses, 9, 277, 334\n\n Rotten Row, 36\n\n Round Pond, 44\n\n Royal Avenue, Chelsea, 312\n\n Ruskin Park, 168–170\n\n\n S\n\n Saint Alphege, London Wall, 258\n\n ---- Bartholomew’s Hospital, 289\n\n ---- Botolph’s, Aldersgate, 255–256\n\n ---- Christopher-le-Stocks, 258\n\n ---- Dunstan’s Lodge, 93\n\n ---- Dunstan’s, Stepney, 245\n\n ---- George’s-in-the-East, 246\n\n ---- Giles, Cripplegate, 258\n\n ---- James’s Palace, 57, 348\n\n ---- James’s Park, 25, 45, 56–82\n\n ---- ---- ---- animals and birds in, 59, 61, 64,73\n\n ---- ---- ---- canal in, 65\n\n ---- ---- ---- cows in, 64\n\n ---- ---- ---- driving privileges in, 71\n\n ---- ---- ---- Duck Island, 62, 73\n\n ---- ---- ---- flowers in, 80\n\n ---- ---- ---- leper hospital in, 57\n\n ---- ---- ---- a races in, 71\n\n ---- ---- ---- Rosamond’s Pond, 58, 73\n\n ---- ---- ---- tilting ring, 59\n\n ---- John at Hackney, 245\n\n ---- ---- Knights of, 7–8, 236, 264\n\n ---- John’s Lodge, 74, 237\n\n ---- Katherine Coleman, 256\n\n ---- Katharine’"} -{"id": 642, "text": "s, Regent’s Park, 94, 437\n\n ---- Leonard’s, Shoreditch, 18\n\n ---- Martin, 259\n\n ---- Mary Staining, 254\n\n ---- Mary, Islington, 245\n\n ---- Olave’s, Hart Street, 254–257\n\n ---- Pancras-in-the-Fields, 243\n\n ---- Paul’s Churchyard, 250–254\n\n Sand gardens for children, 124, 139, 163\n\n Sayes Court, Deptford, 325\n\n Scott, Sir Gilbert, 50\n\n Seething Lane, 16\n\n Serpentine, 37–38, 42–45\n\n Shakespeare, flowers of, 151, 154, 171\n\n Shepherd’s Bush, 213\n\n Shrubs suitable for London, 330\n\n Skating, 45, 79, 101\n\n ---- club, 97\n\n Sloane, Sir Hans, 16, 318\n\n Smoke, 69, 128, 129\n\n Spa Fields, 247\n\n “Spaniards,” Hampstead, 194\n\n Spring flowers suitable for London, 334\n\n Springfield Park, 144\n\n Spring Gardens, 60\n\n Squares, 217–241\n\n ---- Bedford, 232\n\n ---- Belgrave, 238\n\n ---- Berkeley, 222\n\n ---- Bloomsbury, 231\n\n ---- Brompton, 240\n\n ---- Brunswick, 296\n\n ---- Cadogan Place, 239\n\n ---- Cavendish, 221\n\n ---- Eaton, 218, 239\n\n ---- Finsbury, 237\n\n ---- Golden, 226\n\n "} -{"id": 643, "text": "---- Grosvenor, 219, 221\n\n ---- Hanover, 221\n\n ---- in Belgravia, 238\n\n ---- in Bloomsbury, 230, 297\n\n ---- in the East End, 238\n\n ---- Kensington, 240\n\n ---- Ladbroke, 219\n\n ---- Leicester, 227\n\n ---- Lincoln’s Inn Fields, 234\n\n ---- Manchester, 221\n\n ---- Mecklenburgh, 297\n\n ---- New, 235\n\n ---- Portman, 222, 336\n\n ---- Queen’s, 233\n\n ---- Red Lion, 233\n\n ---- Russell, 321\n\n ---- Saint James’s, 223\n\n ---- Soho, 229\n\n ---- Southampton, 231\n\n ---- statues in, 220, 225, 226, 229, 230, 231\n\n ---- Trinity, 237\n\n ---- Vincent, 238\n\n Sorbiere, M. de, 62\n\n South London Parks, 155–184\n\n Southwark Park, 179\n\n Stepney, Manor of, 139\n\n ---- Museum, 146\n\n Stoke Newington or Clissold Park, 141–144\n\n Streatham Common, 209, 211\n\n Sub-tropical Garden, Battersea, 158\n\n Summer-houses, 86\n\n Switzer, Stephen, 39\n\n\n T\n\n Telegraph Hill, 178\n\n Templars, 7\n\n Temple, The, 262, 264–279\n\n ---- Bencher’s Garden, Inner, 275\n\n ---- Bencher’s Garden, Middle, 275\n\n Temple Garden"} -{"id": 644, "text": ", chambers built on the, 266\n\n ---- flowers in, 272\n\n ---- Fountain, 269–275\n\n ---- green-house, 272\n\n ---- iron gates, 271\n\n ---- re-turfing, 268\n\n ---- sun-dial, 271\n\n ---- Wars of the Roses begin in, 277\n\n Thrale Place, 209\n\n Tinworth, sculpture by, 163–166\n\n Tooting Beck, 208\n\n ---- Common, 208, 210\n\n ---- Graveney, 208\n\n Tortoise at Lambeth, 307\n\n Toxopholite Society, 307\n\n Tradescant, 16, 298\n\n Trees at Fulham, 310, 345\n\n ---- in Chelsea Physic Garden, 321–323\n\n ---- in Greenwich Park, 106, 110, 114\n\n ---- in Hyde Park, 57\n\n ---- in Municipal Parks, 125, 137, 141, 144, 145, 147, 151, 153,\n 175, 182\n\n ---- in Regent’s Park, 103\n\n ---- in squares, 223\n\n ---- pruning of, 128\n\n Trinity Hospital, Mile End, 293\n\n Turner, William, 257\n\n Tyburn, Manor of, 56, 83\n\n\n U\n\n Upper Park, 74\n\n Uvedale, Robert, 323\n\n\n V\n\n Vatcher, Rev. Sidney, 295\n\n Vauxhall Gardens, 161\n\n Vauxhall Park, 161–164\n\n ---- purchase of, 162\n\n Veitch, 17\n\n Verjuice, 10\n\n Vict"} -{"id": 645, "text": "oria Docks, 157\n\n Victoria Park, 120, 135–139\n\n ---- birds in, 139\n\n ---- planting in, 137\n\n Victoria Park Cemetery, 248\n\n Victoria, Queen, Memorial, 80\n\n Vineyards, 9, 59, 180\n\n Vintage, 10\n\n\n W\n\n Wages in 1554, 85\n\n Wandsworth Common, 212\n\n Waterlow Park, 145–150\n\n ---- historical events in, 147–149\n\n ---- ponds in, 147\n\n ---- trees in, 147\n\n Waterlow, Sir Sidney, 145, 149\n\n Waterworks Company, 38\n\n Westminster, 10, 25, 38, 58, 299\n\n Westminster Abbey, 299–305\n\n ---- gardens in monastic times, 302\n\n ---- Little Cloister, 299\n\n Whip Club, 54\n\n Whitechapel, 18\n\n Whitfield, 165\n\n Wild flowers near London, 20\n\n William III., 36, 41\n\n Wine, 10\n\n Winter Garden, Duke Street, 219\n\n Wise, 41\n\n Woolwich, 202\n\n Wormwood Scrubs, 198\n\n\n Y\n\n Yews, Irish, 245\n\n\n Z\n\n Zoological Society, 100\n\n Zouche, Lord, Garden in Hackney, 16\n\n\nTHE END\n\n\n Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO.\n Edinburgh & London\n\n\n[Illustration: (map)]\n\n\n\n"} -{"id": 646, "text": "\nTranscriber’s Notes\n\n\nPunctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent when a\npredominant preference was found in the original book; otherwise they\nwere not changed.\n\nSimple typographical errors were corrected; unbalanced quotation\nmarks were remedied when the change was obvious, and otherwise left\nunbalanced.\n\nIllustrations in this eBook have been positioned between paragraphs\nand outside quotations. 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