Tag Archive | Henry VIII

The Microcosm of London or London in Miniature: Bridewell

published by Rudolph Ackermann in 3 volumes, 1808–1811.

The annexed print gives an accurate and interesting view of this abode of wretchedness, the Pass-Room. It was provided by a late act of Parliament, that paupers, claiming settlements in distant parts of the kingdom, should be confined for seven days previous to their being sent off to their respective parishes; and this is the room appointed by the magistracy of the city for one class of miserable females. The characters are finely varied, the general effect broad and simple, and the perspective natural and easy.

Bridewell, as early as King John, was a royal palace, formed partly out of the remains of an ancient castle, the western Arx Palatina of the city, and the residence of several of our monarchs; but in process of time became neglected: till, in 1522, Henry VIII. rebuilt it in a most magnificent manner, for the reception of the Emperor Charles V. who in that year paid him a visit: Charles was, however, lodged in Black Friars, and his suite in the new palace. A gallery of communication was thrown over Fleet-Ditch, and a passage cut through the city wall to the emperor’s apartments. Henry often lodged here, particularly in 1529, when the question of his marriage with Queen Catherine was agitated in Black Friars. It fell afterwards to decay, and was begged by the pious Prelate Ridley from Edward VI. to be converted to some charitable purpose: that of a house of correction for vagabonds of each sex and all denominations was determined on. It also answers another purpose; it is a foundation for youth who are bound apprentices to different trades under what are called Arts-Masters*; and forms part of the great plan of benevolence adopted by the amiable Edward VI. when he endowed the city hospitals, of which this is one. It is situated in Bridge-street, Black Friars, and gives the name to Bridewell precinct in the neighbourhood; the whole building forms a square, consisting of the houses of the arts-masters, who are six in number, the prisons for the men and women, the committee-room, and a chapel.

The men’s prison is a good brick building, on the western side, consisting of thirty-six sleeping-rooms, and seven other apartments. Every man has a room to himself, containing a bedstead, straw in a sacking, a blanket, and coverlet. The other rooms consist of workshops, a sick-room, which is a very comfortable apartment, and a larger, in which idle apprentices are confined separate from the other prisoners. In the working-room are junk and oakum, which the prisoners pick, and mills where they grind corn. The task-master’s apartments, and the women’s prison, which is separate from the men’s, are on this western side. The committee-room is on the south side, where a committee of the governors meet every week to examine the prisoners. There are excellent regulations to this prison: in the cellar is a bath, in which the prisoners are occasionally washed; but there is no yard for them to walk in, which is a great defect in any house of this description.

The original plan of this hospital, combined and incorporated with the hospitals of Christ and St. Thomas, was so benevolent, and of such comprehensive utility, that it is worthy to be followed, improved, and completely executed, by the wisest and best of men, in the wisest and best of times. It was to “train up the beggar’s child to virtuous industry, so that from him no more beggars should spring; to succour the aged and the diseased; to relieve the decayed housekeeper and the indigent; and to compel the wretched street-walker and the vagabond to honest labour.” Its design was, to include every class of the unfortunate, the helpless, and the depraved. To effect this, the governors were instituted, and are, as a body corporate, empowered to make* “all manner of wholesome and honest ordinances, statutes, and rules, for the good government of the poor in Bridewell.” Many very important alterations have taken place in this hospital within the last century, particularly in the years 1792 and 1793. Pennant, whose account of London was published in 1793, states the number of arts-masters at twenty; they are now reduced to six. The number of apprentices taught and maintained, he does not state; in the year 1717, they amounted to one hundred and three received within the year, and in 1718, to ninety-four. — Vide Speed. The apprentices are now reduced to thirty.

The late improvements in the buildings at Bridewell have been very great. The entrance is by a very noble front, of the Doric order; on the key-stone of the arch is a head of the illustrious founder. The apartments in this center are destined for the residence of the chamberlain of the city of London, who is also treasurer. Adjoining this building are six new houses, corresponding with the other houses in Bridge-street, the back parts of which occupy what was before a court-yard, in which resided several of the arts-masters. A new chapel, and a very noble apartment called the committee-room, complete the improvements on the eastern and principal side. On the north have been some alterations. The male prisoners are removed to a new building erected on the western side; and the arts-masters, who lived on that site, are removed to houses erected for them on the north side.

The court-room is an interesting piece of antiquity, as on its site were held courts of justice, and probably parliaments, under our early kings. At the upper end are the old arms of England; and it is wainscotted to a certain height with English oak, ornamented with carved work. This oak was formerly of that solemn colour which it attains by age, and was relieved by the carving being gilt. It must have been no small effort of ingenuity to destroy at one stroke all this venerable time-honoured grandeur: it was, however, happily achieved by daubing over with paint the fine veins and polish of the old oak, to make a very bad imitation of the pale modern wainscot; and other decorations are added in a similar taste.

On the upper part of the wall are the names, in gold letters, of benefactors to the hospital: the dates commence with 1565 and end with 1713. This is said to have been the court in which the sentence of divorce was pronounced against Catherine of Arragon, which had been concluded on in the opposite monastery of the Black Friars.

From this room is the entrance into the hall, which is a very noble one: at the upper end is a picture, by Holbein, representing Edward VI. delivering the charter of the hospital to Sir George Barnes, then lord mayor; near him are William, Earl of Pembroke, and Thomas Goodrich, Bishop of Ely. There are ten figures in the picture, besides the king, whose portrait is painted with great truth and feeling: it displays all that languor and debility which mark an approaching dissolution, and which unhappily followed so soon after, together – with that of the painter, that it has been sometimes doubted whether the picture was really painted by Holbein: his portrait, however, is introduced; it is the furthest figure in the corner on the right hand, looking over the shoulders of the persons before him.

On one side of this picture is a portrait of Charles II. sitting, and on the other that of James II. standing; they are both painted by Sir Peter Lely. Round the room are several portraits of the presidents and different benefactors, ending with that of Sir Richard Carr Glyn. The walls of this room are covered with the names of those who have been friends to the institution, written in letters of gold.

The new committee-room is finely proportioned, and in a very good style of architecture; as is the new chapel, which is divided from it by the portico, and which together occupy the whole back front of the eastern range of buildings.

The following is a list of the present officers of this hospital and Bethlem, founded by Edward VI. 1553:

President of both Hospitals, Sir Richard Carr Glyn, Bart. Alderman.
Treasurer to ditto, Richard Clark, Esq. Chamberlain of the city of London.
Chaplain at Bridewell, Rev. Henry Budd, B. A.
Physician to both, Thomas Munro, M. D.
Surgeon to ditto, Bryan Crowther, Esq.
Apothecary to ditto, Mr. John Haslam.
Clerk to ditto, Mr. John Poynder.
Steward to Bridewell, accomptant and receiver to both, Air. Bolton Hudson.
Porter to Bridewell, Richard Weaver.
Matron to ditto, Mary Rundle.

* These arts-masters were originally decayed tradesmen, and consisted of shoemakers, taylors, flax-dressers, orris and silk-weavers, &c. The apprentices used to be distinguished by a blue jacket and trowsers, and a white hat: their dress is now in the form of other people’s, distinguished only by a button bearing the head of the founder.

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Amusements of Old London: The Parks

Mar8

Amusements of Old London

William B. Boulton, 1901

“… an attempt to survey the amusements of Londoners during a period which began… with the Restoration of King Charles the Second and ended with the accession of Her Majesty Queen Victoria.”

From Henry VIII’s Land Grab to a Public Park: Hyde Park

As the King’s most Royal Majesty is desirous to have the games of hare, partridge, pheasant and heron preserved in and about the honour of his palace of Westminster for his own disport and pastime, no person, on the pain of imprisonment of their bodies and further punishment at his Majesty’s will and pleasure, is to presume to hunt or hawk from the Palace of Westminster to St. Giles’ in the Fields, and from thence to Islington, to our Lady of the Oak, to Highgate, to Hornsey Park, and to Hampstead Heath.

With this proclamation, the abbot and monks of the Convent of Westminster were packed off to the provinces, and Hyde Park was established, encompassing at the time St. James’s, Green, and Regent’s Parks in addition to the present Hyde Park, in addition to additional square miles of land in the western and northern suburbs of London. The area remained a private royal park until Charles I opened it up to the public, dedicating Hyde Park to the enjoyment of the people “for ever.”

A few years later, the park was sold by the House of Commons “for ready money,” in three lots for £18,000. The new owners

…imposed a price for admission. Londoners still drove their coaches and rode their nags in Hyde Park in the spring, grumbled sadly, but paid their shillings and sixpences nevertheless, and flocked there as usual to flirt and ogle in its drives, or to watch the horse matches and chariot races, the foot races and the games of hurling, which had a surprising vogue from the very year the gates were opened to the public. There was little real interruption of the gaiety of which Hyde Park was the chosen retreat, and the traditions of the Restoration were in no way violated when the enterprising purchasers of the royal property found their titles treated as null and void by the courts of law.

That same epoch of the Restoration marks the first great period of Hyde Park as a public pleasure-ground. All classes had been quick to appreciate the value of a breezy open place, where fashion, jaded in the stuffy rooms and playhouses of the London of the day, could forgather in its chariots or on its horses, exchange its repartees, and gaze over an open country right on to the hills of Surrey and Kent on the one hand, and to the northern heights of London on the other.

The Ring Road

The Ring Road was a circular space some three hundred yards in diameter, around which was a carriage road, “enclosed in a rough fence of stakes and rails.” Along this road, horses and vehicles traversed in two circles, both running in opposite directions so that the visitors could pass each other. The idea was “to exchange witticisms with the acquaintances you saw for a moment,” without stopping, which was only allowed for King Charles II, “as he often did when the proper lady appeared in the other circle.”

Samuel Pepys says “the Dukes of York and Gloucester haunt the place much,” which, along with the “simpering beauties of Lely taking a turn in the Ring—Castlemaine, Stewart, Hamilton, Chesterfield, and the rest,” gave him a significant motivation for wanting to put in an appearance there himself. He comments on “the origin of the lady’s riding-habit, which first appeared in the Ring on the fair persons of the “Amazones,” as he calls them; “ladies with coats and doublets and deep skirts,” says Samuel, “just for all the world like mine, and their doublets buttoned up their breasts, with periwigs and with hats, so that only for along petticoat dragging under their men’s coats nobody would take them for women in any point whatever.”

Riding Habit, 1720

By the time England had settled down under Anne and the first George a fashionable turnout in the Park had become a serious undertaking. The private coach of that day was a sprawling structure as large as a modern hearse, its ugly body hung on straps between widely separated legs, and its team no less than six grey Flanders mares. Its panels bore the quarterings of the coats-of-arms of its owners on a generous scale, and its coachmen and footmen were in liveries of a splendour which survives only to-day in those of the Mansion House. It was only the magnate of an assured position who could turn out in proper style in the Ring; the aspiring man of fashion of modest income, if he were wise, confined his equipage to the more modest proportions of a well-groomed hack, and made up for the modesty of his stable by the fineness of his wardrobe and the gallantry of his bear.

The Military Displays

During the public feeling of unrest which preceded the Jacobite rising of 1715, General Cadogan marched the Life Guards and Horse Grenadiers, the Duke of Argyll’s regiment of foot, and three battalions of Foot-guards, with field pieces and ammunition waggons, from the Tower into the Park, encamped them under canvas on the south side, just within the wall along Knightsbridge and Kensington Gore, and London was regaled with the first of those military displays which later became one of the chief attractions of Hyde Park. There were great doings on the 1st of August, the anniversary of the king’s accession. The Guards were paraded in their new uniforms to the admiration of the people, and the day concluded with fireworks and illuminations. There followed reviews by the king, the Prince of Wales, and the Duke of Marlborough at intervals during two months, and as the weather broke up in October, the troops went into winter quarters by exchanging their canvas tents for wooden huts, and wooden stables were provided for the horses. When the Prince of Wales’ birthday came round in November there were prodigious rejoicings. The officers commanding gave great presents to the troops. We read of the Duke of Montague providing five hundred pounds of pudding, two hogsheads of wine, two of ale, and an ox to be roasted whole at the head of the first troop standard. We can imagine the joy of the open-mouth Londoner at such proceedings, at the terrific huzzas as they drank his royal highness’s health in illuminated circles at night, at the volleys of cannon and small arms which followed each toast. The Ring was deserted, and one immediate result of the presence of the soldiers was the unwonted safety of the Park for passengers, the footpads being quite disconcerted.

Military Encampment, 1785

In 1722, again, no less than 7000 men, with a field train, took up their position in Hyde Park… The whole town flocked to the Park, and the popularity of the meeting was so great that a full-blown fair arose on the skirts of the camp, with dancing saloons, puppet-shows, and billiard-tables and dice for the people of quality.

No wonder that the Ring was deserted, and the ladies, from duchesses to nurserymaids, flocked to the camp. They even adopted military habits, and red cloaks were much in vogue out of compliment to the soldiers. Grub Street grew furious at the luxury of the officers’ quarters, at the tea-parties, and the invitations to drink ratafia, at the gravel walks and gardens laid out round the marquees of the higher officers… The floors of the tent were boarded and carpeted, and the camp beds adorned with green and red curtains.

By 1780, however, the military presence became seen as a threat to personal liberty, and George III was persuaded to move them out of the park for the summer.

Rotten Row

Hyde Park, as a resort of fashion gained greatly by the adoption of Kensington Palace as one of the royal residences. William the Third gave London the first experience of a well-lighted road when he placed lamps along the carriage-way leading to Kensington Palace through the Park, and a new name to that road itself, which was called the King’s Road. “Route du Roi,” some hold, supplies the derivation of the modern “Rotten Row.”

Queen Caroline
(c) National Galleries of Scotland; Supplied by The Public Catalogue Foundation

Queen Caroline’s ambitious plans for expanding the gardens at Kensington Palace included taking three hundred acres from Hyde Park, as well as adding the Ring Road and even St. James’s Park. When she asked Sir Robert Walpole what it would cost, his answer was “Three Crowns, your Majesty.” She did, however, spend massive amounts of money in the park, convincing her husband that it was coming from her own funds and not the Privy Purse. The creation of the Serpentine is one example of her accomplishments.

St. James’s Park

As previously mentioned, the land acquired by Henry VIII included St. James Park, which still consisted of swampy meadows frequently flooded by the river, where he built his palace of St. James.

But St. James’s Park remained a wild boggy tract fit for little but the flushing of herons until the Stuarts were well established, and the first tradition of social pleasure in St. James’s was established only when the young princes, the Prince of Wales and Charles, and their companions, set up a tilting-ring and made a playground in the fields. Then the Park gradually became a walk for the courtiers, people of condition were afterwards admitted, and the tenants of the houses on the Westminster side obtained leave of entrance, a privilege afterwards extended to the general public.

The whole Park, indeed, was a menagerie and an unfailing attraction for Londoners at a time when Zoological Gardens were unknown, and a taste for wild creatures could only be gratified by a visit to the mangy collections of the Tower.

The Mall, St. James’s Park, 1741

A big attraction was, of course, the opportunity to mingle with the king himself and his court. His ministers and everyone but the king himself was fearful of some lunatic with a knife, but “the king, as he told his brother, was certain that they would not kill him to make James king, and continued his walks in the Park… and encouraged the troops of his subjects who followed him about, to their huge delight.

The Park, indeed, was a great place for the loafer, then as now. It was an appanage of the court which was free from the tyranny of the king’s writ, and anyone guilty of a crime less heinous than high treason was safe in its precincts from bailiff or Bow Street officer. This immunity brought together a constant population of unpromising individuals, who sunned themselves on the grass, filled the benches, begged alms or told fortunes, and picked pockets. Their only enemy was the press-gang, which enjoyed privileges denied to the officers of the law, and swooped down at intervals to make hauls of as many as 150 in one day.

Pall Mall

Charles II planted elm trees along the road from Spring Gardens to Buckingham Palace, added walks with avenues on each side, and played the game of Pall Mall there until the game was moved to St. James’s Park.

Pall Mall seems to have been a species of croquet, on a heroic and athletic scale. The game required a long straight course, finely kept, down which a wooden ball could be driven with a mallet, and through a bridge of iron at either end. Players scored by the fewness of their strokes, as at golf, and the driving of the ball a long distance in a proper direction was one of the qualifications for success, qualifications possessed by the king and his brother James in an eminent degree.

Green Park

About 1786 fashion left its shades and avenues to the middle-classes, the city ladies, and the country cousins, and moved off unaccountably to the Green Park. The Green Park, since Charles the Second enclosed it about 1660, had been little more than a hunting-ground for footpads and a duelling-ground for drunken or quarrelsome combatants…[until in 1780] it suddenly became the habit of the well-bred to make their evening promenade up the Queen’s walk and round the reservoir which filled the north-eastern corner of the Green Park… Here for a few seasons fashionable London displayed itself in its evening dress after dinner, and incidentally and accidentally gave a great value to the houses on the west side of Arlington Street… The view across the Green Park at that time was very impressive. There was no building in Pimlico or Belgravia; the Thames could be seen from these windows; Lambeth was a marsh with pastures, ponds, willows and cattle, recalling a Dutch landscape, and behind all rose the hills of Sydenham, covered with wood unspoiled by building and unclouded by smoke.

Late Eighteenth and Early Nineteenth Centuries

Driving in the parks became the fashion, and there, as the present century opened, might be seen those strange vehicles from which all modern carriages have been evolved. The phaeton of that day was a spider-like arrangement with four sprawling wheels, four horses, and holding but two persons. There was the curricle, an invention of more sanity, but still requiring three horses and carrying only two persons. The gig was the father of the tilburies, whisks, and all other two-wheeled vehicles, many of which still survive. The horses, as we learn, were of a heavy breed, “Cleveland blacks and long-tailed bays,” approaching in type those used for light drays and omnibuses to-day.

Spider Phaeton

With materials such as these the youth of both sexes of the Regency and George the Fourth superseded the old promenades of the Mall, and revived the tradition of equestrianism and equipage of Hyde Park which survives in our own day, and has produced such organisations as the Four-in-Hand Club.

In addition to social opportunities for the fashionable, people were known to skate on the ice of the canal at St. James’s and on the Serpentine. An early form of cricket was played by Frederick Prince of Wales and other men of station. Also popular were prize-rings improvised on the premises, and duels to be ogled.

Skating in Hyde Park, 1782

Amusements of Old London series

Romance of London: St. Margaret’s Painted Window at Westminster

May23

Romance of London: Strange Stories, Scenes And Remarkable Person of the Great Town in 3 Volumes

John Timbs

John Timbs (1801-1875), who also wrote as Horace Welby, was an English author and aficionado of antiquities. Born in Clerkenwell, London, he was apprenticed at 16 to a druggist and printer, where he soon showed great literary promise. At 19, he began to write for Monthly Magazine, and a year later he was made secretary to the magazine’s proprietor and there began his career as a writer, editor, and antiquarian.

This particular book is available at googlebooks for free in ebook form. Or you can buy a print version.

The history of the painted glass cinquecento Window, which, in 1758, was placed in the chancel, over the altar of St. Margaret’s Church, is truly romantic.

Elizabeth of York

This beautiful window (said to have been executed at Gouda, in Holland, and to have occupied five years in the making) was originally intended by the magistrates of Dort as a present to Henry VII., by whom it was intended for his Chapel at Westminster; or as some say, it was ordered by Ferdinand and Isabella on the occasion of Prince Arthur being affianced, in 1499, to the Princess Catherine of Arragon, their portraits being procured for the purpose.

The three middle compartments represent the Crucifixion, with the usual accompaniments of angels receiving in a chalice the blood which drops from the wounds of the Saviour. Over the good thief an angel is represented wafting his soul to Paradise; and over the wicked, the devil in the shape of a dragon carrying his soul to a place of punishment. In the six upper compartments are six angels holding the emblems of crucifixion: the cross, the sponge, the crown of thorns, the hammer, the rods and nails. In the right hand lower compartment is Arthur, Prince of Wales (eldest son of Henry VII); and in the companion or left side, Catherine of Arragon, his bride (afterwards married to his brother Henry VIII., and divorced by him). Over the head of Prince Arthur is a full-length figure of St. George, with the red and white roses of England; and over Catherine of Arragon, a full-length figure of St. Catherine, with the bursting pomegranate, the emblem of the kingdom of Granada.

Prince Arthur died before the window was finished; the King himself before it could be erected. Succeeding events—the marriage of Henry VIII. To the bride or widow of his brother, with the subsequent divorce of Catherine—rendered the window wholly unfit for the place for which it was intended.

The window through the ages

Catherine of Aragon

Henry VIII gave it to Waltham Abbey, Essex.
At the Dissolution, Robert Fuller, the last Abbot, sent it to his private chapel at New Hall, also in Essex.
It was later acquired by the father of Anne Boleyn.
Queen Elizabeth I gave it to Thomas Ratcliff, Earl of Sussex, who was living at New Hall.
It was purchased by Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, favorite of James I.
Its next owner was Oliver Cromwell.
At the Restoration, it reverted to the second Duke of Buckingham.
It was purchased, along with New Hall, to General Monk, Duke of Albermarle. The duke buried it underground to keep it from the Puritans. After the Restoration he returned it to his chapel at New Hall.
After he died and his son as well, the hall became the property of the duchess, and fell into ruin and decay.
John Olmius, Esq., purchased the property and demolished the chapel, preserving the window.
Eventually it was purchased by Mr. Conyers, of Copt Hall, Essex, for 50 guineas, for his own chapel.
Conyers’ son, Mr. John Conyers sold the window in 1758 to the churchwardens of St. Margaret’s Westminster for 400 guineas.

St. Margaret’s Church (background)

“It is worth the walk”

It is worth a walk to St. Margaret’s to see this window. The late Mr. Winston, the great authority upon glass-painting, says of it: “Though at present much begrimed with London smoke and soot, it may be cited as an example of the pictorial excellence attainable in a glass-painting without any violation of the fundamental rules and conditions of the art. The harmonious arrangement of the coloring is worthy of attention. It is the most beautiful work in this respect that I am acquainted with.”

The church has been in our time, as it was centuries ago in Stow’s time, “in danger of pulling down;” which, if carried into effect, would add another leaf to the history of the St. Margaret’s Painted Window.

Thankfully, this last threat to the location of this window have not come to pass. I’m definitely putting St. Margaret’s on my list for this year’s trip, in August.

St. Margaret’s Church from the London Eye

Romance of London Series

The Dover Road: Blackheath and Dartford

Sep29

The following post is the fourteenth of a series based on information obtained from a fascinating book Susana recently obtained for research purposes. Coaching Days & Coaching Ways by W. Outram Tristram, first published in 1888, is replete with commentary about travel and roads and social history told in an entertaining manner, along with a great many fabulous illustrations. A great find for anyone seriously interested in English history!

Note: Comment to enter the contest for Susana’s September Giveaway, a lovely necklace from London’s National Gallery (see photo at right).

Blackheath: Dark-Colored Heathland

The area of Blackheath is about seven miles from London Bridge. Originally the name of an open space for public meetings of the ancient hundred of Blackheath, this name was also given to the Victorian suburb that was developed later in the 19th century. While this area was certainly used for burial pits for the victims of the Black Death in the 14th century, it was only one of many used for such a purpose in London and was not the source of the name. Blackheath comes from Old English, “dark-colored heathland,” undoubtedly referring to the color of the soil.

Besides a queen devoted to junketings [Queen Caroline, who lived at Montague House], a letter-writing father, bent on directing his son to the deuce [Lord Chesterfield], and a great warrior [Major General James Wolfe, conqueror of Quebec], rebellion has in the good old days…raised its head on this celebrated spot; and it raised its head in the person of Wat Tyler, who was here in 1381 at the head of one hundred thousand other heads (which was wise of him seeing that he had previously cracked a poll-tax collector’s head at Dartford, after drinking too much ale, I suppose, at the celebrated Bull Inn). Another rebel was here, at Blackheath 1497. Lord Audley to wit, who went through the somewhat aimless exercise of bringing troops all the way from Cornwall, pitching their tents, and immediately afterwards suffering defeat at the hands of Henry the Seventh.

Montague House, residence of Queen Caroline

The Predecessor of Rotten Row?

For this celebrated spot occupied in the annals of England much the same sort of position apparently as Rotten Row occupies in the annals of contemporary fashion. It was the place where kings and ministers met casually on their way to or from London, and babbled of the weather, the price of corn, the latest hanging, the odds on the next bear-fight, the state of the unemployed, or any other kindred subject which might suggest itself to medieval brains, in an open space, where it was not too windy.

Henry the Fifth a Spoilsport?

On his return to London, “The Victor of Agincourt” was greeted here by “the mayor and five hundred citizens of London. The mayor and aldermen had prepared an elaborate reception, with wine and scarlet and gold robes and all the trappings. But Henry “nipped all the worthy mayor’s preparations in the bud,” refusing to accept the praise and thanks that should go to God.

A pious decision, but one which must have been extremely unsatisfactory to town councillors who had launched forth in the way of dress and decorations, and to the thousands of Londoners who had flocked out to Blackheath to see the show.

Henry V: not in a proper mood to be fêted

Henry the Eighth: A Guilty Conscience?

It was here on Blackheath that the already muchly married king publicly received his fourth wife, with all due decency and decorum, having already made up his royal mind to put her away privately. For Henry on this occasion did not play fair; and though he pretended to Anne of Cleves herself that it was at this meeting on Blackheath that he had first seen here—in saying so, he said that which was not; for he had already privately inspected her at the Crown Inn at Rochester. It was on this occasion it may be remembered that the bluff Tudor gave way to a regrettable license of speech at first sight of the goods the gods had provided for him, and said many things unfit for publication; which shocked the onlookers, and made Cromwell put his hands to his head to feel if it was still in his shoulders.

Alas, Cromwell, as the advocate for this marriage, paid for his folly with his head. Anne of Cleves, however,

was content to forego the dubious joys of married life for the possession of the several manors in Kent and Sussex that her grateful late lord bestowed upon her. The number of these manors exceeds belief, and at the same time gracefully gauges Henry’s conception of the magnitude of the matrimonial peril past. Indeed, it seems to me that…whenever he had nothing villainous on hand, and was disinclined for tennis, he gave Anne of Cleves a manor or two simply to while away the time.

The Manor Gatehouse is all that is left of the manor Henry VIII presented to Anne of Cleves as “one of the first manors granted to this little-married but much-dowered lady.”

Charles II’s Triumphant Procession

…it was in 1660 no doubt that the grandest of its historical pageants was to be seen: when the long reaction against Puritanism had suddenly triumphed, and all England went mad on a May morning at the Restoration of her exiled king; when through sixty-one miles as it were of conduits running wine, triumphal arches, gabled streets hung with tapestry—through battalions of citizens in various bands, some arrayed in coats of black velvet with gold chains, some in military suits of cloth of gold or silver—Charles, who had slept at Rochester the night before, rode on to Blackheath between his brothers, the Dukes of York and Gloucester.

Charles II riding into London

Sir Walter Scott, in his novel Woodstock (1826), paints a picture of Charles catching a glimpse of the characters of the novel in the crowd and making a point to dismount, prevent the aged Sir Henry Lee from rising, and ask for his blessing, after which, “his very faithful servant, having seen the desire of his eyes, was gathered to his fathers.”Quite a poignant scene, but could not have happened in real life since Sir Henry had passed away fifty years earlier. Don’t you just love historical fiction?

Charles Dickens: “veritable genius of the road”

His memory burns by the way—as all but the wicked man who has not read Pickwick and David Copperfield will remember—and indeed A Tale of Two Cities. For in the second chapter of that wonderful book the very spirit of the Dover Road in George the Third’s time is caught as if by magic.

A Tale of Two Cities: read Chapter Two here: http://www.online-literature.com/dickens/twocities/2/

Who does not remember these things? Who has not read them again and again? I declare that I think this second chapter of A Tale of Two Cities a picture of the old coaching days more perfect than any that has been painted. Every detail is there in three pages.

George IV Insulted at the Bull Inn

In 1822

…while the great Fourth George was majestically reposing in his royal post-chaise in front of the old archway he experienced an unpleasant surprise. A very ungentlemanly man named Calligan, a working currier who ought to have known better, suddenly projected his head into the carriage window, and observed in a voice of thunder, “You’re a murderer!” an historical allusion to the king’s late treatment of Queen Caroline, which made the royal widower “sit up”. Upon which a bystander named Morris knocked the personal currier down,and the window of the post-chaise was pulled up, and the post-boy told to drive on as quickly as possible.

The Royal Victoria and Bull Inn (formerly the Bull Inn)

The Royal Victoria and Bull Hotel (formerly the Bull Inn)

Index to all the posts in this series

1: The Bath Road: The (True) Legend of the Berkshire Lady

2: The Bath Road: Littlecote and Wild William Darrell

3: The Bath Road: Lacock Abbey

4: The Bath Road: The Bear Inn at Devizes and the “Pictorial Chronicler of the Regency”

5: The Exeter Road: Flying Machines, Muddy Roads and Well-Mannered Highwaymen

6: The Exeter Road: A Foolish Coachman, a Dreadful Snowstorm and a Romance

7: The Exeter Road in 1823: A Myriad of Changes in Fifty Years

8: The Exeter Road: Basingstoke, Andover and Salisbury and the Events They Witnessed

9: The Exeter Road: The Weyhill Fair, Amesbury Abbey and the Extraordinary Duchess of Queensberry

10: The Exeter Road: Stonehenge, Dorchester and the Sad Story of the Monmouth Uprising

11: The Portsmouth Road: Royal Road or Road of Assassination?

12: The Brighton Road: “The Most Nearly Perfect, and Certainly the Most Fashionable of All”

13: The Dover Road: “Rich crowds of historical figures”

14: The Dover Road: Blackheath and Dartford

15: The Dover Road: Rochester and Charles Dickens

16: The Dover Road: William Clements, Gentleman Coachman

17: The York Road: Hadley Green, Barnet

18: The York Road: Enfield Chase and the Gunpowder Treason Plot

19: The York Road: The Stamford Regent Faces the Peril of a Flood

20: The York Road: The Inns at Stilton

21: The Holyhead Road: The Gunpowder Treason Plot

22: The Holyhead Road: Three Notable Coaching Accidents

23: The Holyhead Road: Old Lal the Legless Man and His Extraordinary Flying Machine

24: The Holyhead Road: The Coachmen “More Celebrated Even Than the Most Celebrated of Their Rivals” (Part I)

25: The Holyhead Road: The Coachmen “More Celebrated Even Than the Most Celebrated of Their Rivals” (Part II)

26: Flying Machines and Waggons and What It Was Like To Travel in Them

27: “A few words on Coaching Inns” and Conclusion

The Exeter Road: Basingstoke, Andover and Salisbury and the Events They Witnessed

Aug11

The following post is the eighth of a series based on information obtained from a fascinating book Susana recently obtained for research purposes. Coaching Days & Coaching Ways by W. Outram Tristram, first published in 1888, is chock full of commentary about travel and roads and social history told in an entertaining manner, along with a great many fabulous illustrations. A great find for anyone seriously interested in English history!

Basingstoke

In 1645 Cromwell took Basing House after a four-year struggle, stripped the lead off the roof of the Abbey in order to cast bullets, leaving the house in ruins. Basingstoke, however was a popular place for coaches to stop for meals.

Between Basingstoke and Andover is a “desolate country” where coaches could make good time. The White Hart in Whitchurch was a “bustling place” where coaches from London to Salisbury and Oxford to Winchester crossed each other.” (Note: it’s still there and has fifteen rooms available should you desire to stay there!)

Andover

Here Henry VII rested from his labours after suppressing the insurrection of Perkin Warbeck; but whether the miserly Tudor put up at the Star and Garter, or the everlasting White Hart, or their medieval equivalents, if there were any, is more than I can say. It was upon Andover to link another royalty with the place, that James II fell back, after the breaking-up of the camp at Salisbury. Here it was that he was deserted by Prince George [Prince of Denmark, his daughter Anne’s husband], remarkable for his impenetrable stupidity and his universal panacea for all contingencies in a catch-word. Whatever happened, “Est-il possible?” was his exclaim. He supped with the king, who was at the moment overwhelmed naturally enough with his misfortunes, said nothing during a dull meal, but directly it was over slipped out to the stable in the company of the Duke of Ormond, mounted, and rode off. James did not exhibit much surprise on learning the adventure, being used to desertion by this time. He merely remarked, “What, is ‘Est-il possible?’ gone too! A good trooper would have been a greater loss;” and left for London—I was going to say by the next coach.

Two important coaching roads diverge about a half-mile out of Andover, which was also the scene of an escaped lioness on the Exeter Mail on October 20, 1816.

Salisbury

“One of the most picturesque towns in the south of England,” Salisbury, where the Quicksilver (which could do 175 miles in 18 hours, our author notes repeatedly) stopped to change horses, “is almost exactly half way between Exeter and London.”

The town of Salisbury, which is eighty miles seven furlongs from Hyde Park Corner, is chiefly remarkable for its cathedral; and it owes this agreeable notoriety to the north wind. This may sounds trange in the ears of those who have not, attired as shepherds, highwaymen or huntsmen, braved the elements in the surrounding plain. Those however who have enjoyed this fortune, will not be surprised to learn, that when the winds raged in the good old days of 1220 round the original church of Old Sarum, which was quite unprotected and perched upon a hill, the congregation were utterly unable to hear the priests say mass; and no doubt they were unable to hear the sermon too. This fact much exercised the good Bishop Poore; and so, a less windy site having opportunely been revealed to him in a dream by the Virgin he got a license from Pope Honorius for removal. Which done—with a medieval disregard for the safety of the local cowherd or government inspector—he aimlessly shot an arrow into the air from the ramparts of Old Sarum, and (unlike Mr. Longfellow’s hero), having marked where it fell, there laid the foundations of the existing beautiful church.

The first among the myriad of royal visitors to Salisbury was Richard II, “who was here immediately before his expedition to Ireland, where he should clearly never have gone.” Apparently the town was not at all impressed with his “amiable inclination towards charging his subjects with his outings,” considering the fact that his household consisted of “ten thousand persons, three hundred of whom were cooks” and for him they had to provide tables. The town “a short time after expressed their thanks for his visit, by, with almost indecent alacrity, espousing the cause of Henry.”

In 1484

Richard III

…the hunchbacked Richard honoured Salisbury with his presence; but he was not I expect in the best of tempers, for here to him was brought the Buckingham we have all read of in the play, who had just seized the fleeting opportunity to head an insurrection against the king, in an unprecedentedly wet season in Wales. The result was that he was unable to cross the Severn, and this misfortune brought him too to Salisbury, where Richard was waiting to superintend his execution at what is now the Saracen’s Head.

In the courtyard of this inn, which was then called the Blue Boar, and not “in an open space,” as Shakespeare has described it (as if he were speaking of Salisbury Plain), Buckingham had his head cut oft according to contemporary prescription. We have none of us seen the episode presented on the stage, but we have read the carpenters’ scene, which Shakespeare wrote in, to give the gentleman who originally played Buckingham a chance, and allow a few moments more preparation for Bosworth Field. And we may recollect that it consists princiapply in Buckingham asking whether King Richard will not let him speak to him, and on being told not at all, informing the general company, at some length, that it is All-Souls’ Day, and that as soon as he has been beheaded, he intends to commence “walking”.

Although the inn has been replaced by Debenham’s, a department store, some say they have seen or experienced the Duke’s ghost, so ladies, you might want to reconsider using the dressing rooms there—just an FYI.

After Richard and Buckingham, there came to Salisbury in the way of kings, Henry VII in 1491. Henry VIII in 1535 with Ann Boleyn, already in all probability engaged in those sprightly matrimonial differences as to men and the things which culminated the year following on Tower Green. Next in order, came to Salisbury, Elizabeth, bound for Bristol, bent, as on all her royal progresses, on keeping her nobility’s incomes within bounds, and shooting tame stags that were induced to meander before her bedroom windows. After the virgin queen came James I, who liked the solitudes which surrounded the Salisbury of those days, for the two-fold reason, firstly, because they saved him in a large measure from the invasion of importunate suitors (who were afraid of having their purses taken on Salisbury Plain before they could proffer their supplications), and, secondly, because they were well stocked with all sorts of game on which he could wreak his royal and insatiable appetite for hunting. The “open” nature of the country might perhaps be added as another reason for the sporting king’s liking for the place: for James was no horseman, and as he was in no danger of meeting a hedge in an area of thirty miles, the going must have suited him down to the ground.

Sir Walter Raleigh

It was also hear that Sir Walter Raleigh, upon his return to England from an unsuccessful expedition to Spain, tried to gain audience with James to explain himself and beg pardon, but was forced to return to London where he was imprisoned and executed.

The merry monarch [Charles II] was here twice, but on neither occasion, I suspect was he peculiarly merry; for after the battle of Worcester, when he lay concealed near the town for a few days, and his companions used to meet at the King’s Arms in John Street, to plan his flight, the Ironsides were much too close on his track to allow opportunity for jesting; and when he came here as king in 1665, all but the most forced mirth was banished from a court which dreaded every day to be stricken by the plague.

Index to all the posts in this series

1: The Bath Road: The (True) Legend of the Berkshire Lady

2: The Bath Road: Littlecote and Wild William Darrell

3: The Bath Road: Lacock Abbey

4: The Bath Road: The Bear Inn at Devizes and the “Pictorial Chronicler of the Regency”

5: The Exeter Road: Flying Machines, Muddy Roads and Well-Mannered Highwaymen

6: The Exeter Road: A Foolish Coachman, a Dreadful Snowstorm and a Romance

7: The Exeter Road in 1823: A Myriad of Changes in Fifty Years

8: The Exeter Road: Basingstoke, Andover and Salisbury and the Events They Witnessed

9: The Exeter Road: The Weyhill Fair, Amesbury Abbey and the Extraordinary Duchess of Queensberry

10: The Exeter Road: Stonehenge, Dorchester and the Sad Story of the Monmouth Uprising

11: The Portsmouth Road: Royal Road or Road of Assassination?

12: The Brighton Road: “The Most Nearly Perfect, and Certainly the Most Fashionable of All”

13: The Dover Road: “Rich crowds of historical figures”

14: The Dover Road: Blackheath and Dartford

15: The Dover Road: Rochester and Charles Dickens

16: The Dover Road: William Clements, Gentleman Coachman

17: The York Road: Hadley Green, Barnet

18: The York Road: Enfield Chase and the Gunpowder Treason Plot

19: The York Road: The Stamford Regent Faces the Peril of a Flood

20: The York Road: The Inns at Stilton

21: The Holyhead Road: The Gunpowder Treason Plot

22: The Holyhead Road: Three Notable Coaching Accidents

23: The Holyhead Road: Old Lal the Legless Man and His Extraordinary Flying Machine

24: The Holyhead Road: The Coachmen “More Celebrated Even Than the Most Celebrated of Their Rivals” (Part I)

25: The Holyhead Road: The Coachmen “More Celebrated Even Than the Most Celebrated of Their Rivals” (Part II)

26: Flying Machines and Waggons and What It Was Like To Travel in Them

27: “A few words on Coaching Inns” and Conclusion

Hever Castle: Anne Boleyn’s Childhood Home

Jun19

The original defensive castle was started in 1270, and in the 15th and 16th centuries, it became the home of the powerful Bullen (Boleyn) family, who added the Tudor dwelling to the castle. This is where Thomas Boleyn, a diplomat and politician who later became the 1st Earl of Wiltshire and the 1st Earl of Ormond lived with his wife, Elizabeth Howard (daughter of the Duke of Norfolk), and their three surviving children, George, Anne, and Mary.

Anne Boleyn

Anne, of course, was destined to become the second wife of Henry VIII—and the reason for his break from Rome to make himself the Head of the Church of England so that he could grant himself a divorce from his first wife, Catherine of Aragon, who had failed to give him a son. And since Anne herself could only give him a daughter, a pretext had to be found to get rid of her so that he could find a woman who would. She was convicted of adultery and incest with her brother George, and both of them were executed on the block.

Henry VIII

Very tragic. But it was Anne’s daughter Elizabeth who would become one of the greatest monarchs of England, the Virgin Queen Elizabeth I. And Thomas Boleyn, who lies in the nearby church, is her maternal grandfather.

Church where Thomas Boleyn is buried

Poor Henry is more known for his marital discords than anything else he did, unless it might be destroying England’s greatest monasteries in order to steal their wealth to fund his lifestyle. (Apologies to anyone reading this who might be a Henry VIII fan, but as you can see, I’m not one.) His third wife gave him a son and promptly died, and he had his marriage to Anne of Cleves, annulled. In the annulment document, she was granted Hever Castle, which had come to him at the death of Thomas Boleyn, among other properties.

Anne of Cleves

By the early 20th century, the property was in poor repair and was purchased by the American millionaire, William Waldorf Astoria, for a family residence. He added the Astor Wing, built in Tudor style, which has now become the Hever Castle Luxury Bed & Breakfast. I stayed there and highly recommend it! Be sure to book ahead, as rooms are limited.

Astor Wing

Astor Wing

One of the things I noticed here was the large number of families, including seniors in wheelchairs, visiting the castle and grounds. I’m pretty sure the castle isn’t accessible to wheelchairs, but the gardens have ramps so that Granny and Aunt Sally can come to enjoy the beauty of nature. I have also noticed that many of these sites offer playgrounds and activities for children, and that school children come here for field trips. Lucky kids! Imagine how much more knowledgeable and interested in history they will be when they are older than our American kids are!

Yes, it has a moat and a drawbridge!

Banquet Hall

Maze

For more photos, check out my Pinterest page.

Hever Castle is near Edenbridge, Kent. And if you go there by train, make sure to have a mobile phone with you, because there is no one, absolutely no one, at the Hever train station!

Planning My London Adventure, Part II

Mar20

My previous visits to London having been far too short, this year I took the plunge and rented a flat for a month in late spring. Not cheap, but far cheaper than staying in a hotel, and it’s centrally located, near many of the sites I plan to visit. My aim is to write in the morning—as I do now—and visit in the afternoons. Since my intention is to include as much as I can in that month, I’m keeping a spreadsheet of information about places I want to visit, including those farther afield, like Leeds Castle and Chatsworth. I thought perhaps some of my readers might be interested in some of the resources I’ve discovered.

Scenes of Iconic British Estates

While each featured estate’s remarkable beauty is noteworthy, it’s the hidden stories within the homes that set them apart.

Do you have Amazon Prime? If so, you should be able to watch this wonderful series by PBS. The first season consists of fascinating tales and footage about three prominent British estates. I’ve been to Hampton Court, and plan to take in Chatsworth this year if I can.

Secrets of Henry VIII’s Palace, Hampton Court

A Tudor palace built by the infamous Henry VIII together with a European-style baroque palace built by William III. There are plenty of secrets here with Henry VIII alone. The last king to live here was George II. Magnificent gardens with yew trees and and a fabulous maze.The kitchens alone are worth the price of admission, as Henry loved his food and he also had to feed about a thousand others.

Secrets of Althorp: The Spencers

Althorp is the country estate of the Spencer family. The late Princess Diana grew up here after her father became Earl Spencer. Her brother Charles is the current Earl. She is buried on the grounds here.

Like most of the British aristocratic families, the Spencers of Althorp and the Cavendishes of Chatsworth are related. The infamous Georgiana Cavendish was the daughter of the 1st Earl Spencer, who was the great-grandson of the 1st Duke of Marlborough.

Note: Be sure to visit Spencer House, on St. James Place in London. Tours on Sundays only.

Althorp

Secrets of Chatsworth

I’ve read quite a bit about Georgiana Cavendish, the Duchess of Devonshire, but didn’t know that much about the rest of this majestic home’s history. Apparently, the estate was so large (one-fifth the size of Rhode Island) that even after Georgiana’s (pronounced George-ayna) heavy gambling debts were paid after her death, there was still enough money for her son, the Bachelor Duke, to spend millions renovating the grounds.

Adele and Fred Astaire

Did you know that Fred Astaire had a sister named Adele who was his dancing partner for 27 years? She married Charles Cavendish, the second son of the 9th Duke of Devonshire. After their marriage, she was called Lady Charles Cavendish, or Lady Charles.

Kathleen Kennedy

Did you know that Kathleen Kennedy, sister of John F., Robert, Teddy, etc. married the eldest son of the 10th Duke of Devonshire, and bore the title Marchioness of Hartington? Unfortunately, he died weeks later in WWII, and she was killed in a plane crash four years later. She is buried in the Cavendish family plot near Chatsworth.

Chatsworth

I also discovered that the BBC aired a three-episode documentary on Chatsworth in 2011, but the programs are not currently available. Bummer!

Chatsworth website

¡Breaking News!

I just booked a room at the Devonshire Arms on the Chatsworth estate for my birthday! A steal at 99 pounds! Do I know how far it is from the main buildings or the train station. Nope! But I guess there must be some sort of transportation. Not sure I want to try driving in England, on the left side of the road, but hey, I’ll do whatever I have to to get there!

The Devonshire Arms at Beeley

Frommer’s Memorable Walks in London

I’ve also been reading this 2006 book, which is unfortunately no longer in print. I guess they figured out Americans don’t want to walk as much as all that. But you can still get a used copy on Amazon—mine cost one cent plus the $3.99 shipping, for a total of $4.00. The walks here are a bit longer (up to three hours) than in Louise Allen’s book, and as you might expect, the two books do overlap. The historical information is priceless. Checking the current hours online or in a more current book is a must, however. Tours included are: