this hall for several days in September, 1852. Thousands of persons from
all parts of the country, as well as many distinguished foreigners, came
to witness the splendid but mournful spectacle. Such exhibitions,
however, seem rather to belong to past ages than to the present period.
* * * * *
From the Hall to the Chapel the visitor passes across a noble vestibule
lighted from above by a cupola, and which, besides serving as a
communication to both apartments, constitutes the principal entrance into
the Hospital itself. Over the altar is a fresco painting, which
represents the Resurrection of our Saviour, sublimely described in the
28th chapter of St. Matthew’s Gospel. It is the production of Sebastian
Ricci. The chapel bears the same proportions as the dining hall. It was
consecrated by Dr. Compton, Bishop of London, on the 13th of October,
1691. The service of plate, for the use of the altar, was given by King
James II.
* * * * *
The first organ was the gift of Major Ingram; but, in 1817, a new one was
placed in the original case, built by Gray, at the expense of four
hundred guineas. It contained at that time 704 pipes with 12 pedal
pipes.
* * * * *
In the chapel are deposited the standards of Tippoo Saib, the whole of
the eagles, thirteen in number, that were taken during the war with
France, &c. Both the chapel and hall must be visited to be fully
appreciated, and this remark equally applies to the different wards, the
water-garden, and indeed every part of this noble establishment.
* * * * *
Chelsea Hospital is, of course, designed to furnish an asylum for those
members of the regular army alone, whom wounds, sickness, or old age, may
have totally disabled. Its inmates are therefore, in some way or other,
invalids, that is to say, men affected by some infirmity, which, though
not visible to the eye of the common spectator, is by the patient himself
abundantly felt. For the reception of those who require admission into
it, a spacious Infirmary has been erected, where the aged patients
receive the best medical treatment and every requisite comfort.
* * * * *
Amongst the chaplains during this century may be mentioned the Rev. W.
Haggitt, M.A., the Rev. Richard Yates, D.D., the Rev. G. R. Gleig, M.A.,
and the Rev. G. Matthias, M.A., who at the present time holds the
appointment.
THE HOSPITAL BURIAL GROUND, &c.
On the east side of the Hospital, adjoining Queen’s Road East, originally
called Jews’ Row, is the cemetery, formerly used for the interment of the
officers and pensioners belonging to the establishment. Near the
entrance, on the right, is the tomb of Simon Box, the first pensioner
there buried in 1692.
* * * * *
There is a very droll epitaph in this burial ground, to the memory of
William Hiseland, which states that “when an hundred years old he took
unto him a wife.” It appears he had served in the army 80 years. He was
born in 1620, and died in 1732, so that at his decease he was 112 years
old. A literary gentleman, referring to the above marriage, exclaimed,
“Oh, the centenarian wooer and antidiluvian bridegroom—of what chronology
was his bride? Let us hope she was as silly at one end of the mortal
story, as he was in his second childhood, at the other!”
* * * * *
In this ground was buried General Sir William Fawcett, K.B., Governor of
the Hospital, who died in 1804, aged 76. His remains were attended to
the grave by the Prince of Wales, the Dukes of York, Clarence, Kent, and
Cambridge, and by several noblemen and general officers.
* * * * *
Although Dr. Monsey was not buried here, yet, as he died in the Hospital,
we must not omit to notice so remarkable a character. Sir Robert Walpole
assiduously cultivated his acquaintance, and the celebrated Earl of
Chesterfield acknowledged with gratitude the benefits he had derived from
his medical assistance.
* * * * *
The character of Dr. Monsey, in point of natural humour, is thought to
have borne a near resemblance to that of Dean Swift. His classical
abilities were indeed enviable, and his memory wonderfully retentive;
insomuch that he was allowed to be a storehouse of anecdote. The
exuberance of his wit, which, like the web of life, was of a mingled
yarn, often rendered his conversation exceedingly entertaining, sometimes
rather offensive, and at other times pointedly pathetic and instructive.
Sir Robert Walpole knew and valued the worth of his “Norfolk Doctor,” as
he called him; but though he knew it, he neglected it. The Prime
Minister was very fond of billiards, at which his friend very much
excelled him. “How happens it,” said Sir Robert, in a social hour, “that
nobody will beat me at billiards, or contradict me, but Dr. Monsey?”
“They get places,” said the Doctor, “I get a dinner and praise.”
* * * * *
The following anecdote is very characteristic of the Doctor’s turn of
temper, and is said to be well attested. He lived so long in his office
as physician to Chelsea Hospital, that, during many changes of
Administration, the reversion of his place had been successively promised
to several medical friends of the Paymaster-General of the Forces.
Looking out of his window one day, and observing a gentleman below,
examining the hospital and gardens, who he knew had secured the reversion
of his place, the Doctor came down stairs, and going out to him, accosted
him thus:—“Well, sir, I see you are examining your house and garden, that
ARE TO BE, and I will assure you they are both very pleasant and very
convenient. But I must tell you one circumstance—you are the fifth man
that has had the reversion of the place, and I have buried them all. And
what is more,” continued he, looking very scientifically at him, “there
is something in your face that tells me I shall bury you too!” The event
justified the prediction, for the gentleman died some years after; and,
what is still more extraordinary, at the time of the Doctor’s death there
was not a person who seems to have even solicited the promise of a
reversion. He died in 1788, aged 94.
* * * * *
On a table monument is an inscription to the memory of John Wilson, Esq.,
Deputy Treasurer of Chelsea Hospital, and Lieutenant-Colonel of the Royal
Volunteers. He died of apoplexy in 1812, aged 56. The monument was
erected by the officers of his regiment, as a token of their esteem.
* * * * *
Benjamin Moseley, M.D., thirty years physician to the hospital, was
buried here in 1819, aged 73.
* * * * *
General Sir David Dundas, Governor of Chelsea Hospital, was buried here
in 1820. His funeral was attended by the Duke of York, accompanied by
his Staff.
* * * * *
BURIAL OF A FEMALE DRAGOON.—Christiana Davis died at Chelsea in 1739.
For several years she served as a dragoon, undiscovered, in the Royal
Irish Enniskillen Regiment; but receiving a wound in her body she was
then discovered, though her comrades had not the least suspicion of her
being a woman. She behaved with great valour afterwards in Flanders, and
was very useful in a battle to supply the soldiers with water and other
necessaries, even to the mouth of a cannon. She had an allowance of one
shilling per day, which she received till her death. She was interred,
according to her desire, amongst the old pensioners, and three vollies
were fired over her grave.
* * * * *
Hannah Snell was also buried in this ground by her own desire. She
enlisted, in 1745, in Guise’s Regiment of Foot, in which she served for
some time, but deserted and enlisted in the Marines. She was severely
wounded, and, on her recovery, sent to England. Her heroic conduct
procured for her an annual pension of £30 for life. She also procured a
pension from Chelsea Hospital, and after her discharge continued to wear
her uniform. At length this poor creature became insane, and was placed
in Bethlehem Hospital, where she died.
* * * * *
Charles Burney, Mus.D., author of the History of Music, &c., was buried
here in 1814, aged 88; he was organist at Chelsea Hospital, and father of
Madame D’Arblay, the authoress of Evelina, Cecilia, and Camilla. She was
also for many years the organist.
* * * * *
Many a distinguished officer and old veteran have been interred in this
ground. Amongst the pensioners some have lived to a great age. Thomas
Asbey, buried in 1737, aged 112.—John Rogers, 1764, aged 103.—Robert
Cumming, 1767, aged 116.—Peter Dowling, 1768, aged 102.—Peter Burnet,
1773, aged 107.—Joshua Cueman, 1794, it is stated, aged 123.—Richard
Swifield, 1805, aged 105.—Abraham Moss, 1805, aged 106.—John Wolf, 1821,
aged 107.—John Salter, 1827, aged 104. I have frequently conversed with
the latter centenarian. In his youth he must have been a fine-built man,
standing upwards of six feet high. He might often be seen, even within a
short time of his death, sweeping away the autumn leaves in the walks of
the hospital grounds, as a matter of choice. Such a circumstance
suggests many serious reflections, which I leave to the reader to supply.
There is also said to be an inmate at the present time, aged 106.
OLD RANELAGH GARDENS.
Adjoining the Royal Hospital, on the eastern side, stood the mansion of
Richard, Earl of Ranelagh. This nobleman, about the year 1690, obtained
from the Crown a large grant of land; he built a house thereon, and made
it his principal residence till his death in 1712. In 1730 an Act was
passed vesting this estate in trustees, and three years after the house
and premises were sold in lots. About this period, Lacy, the patentee of
Drury Lane Theatre, projected a plan for establishing a place of public
entertainment on a large and splendid scale; and, in pursuance of this
scheme, he took a lease of these premises. But it appears he soon gave
up the undertaking, as in 1741, when the Rotunda was built, there were
two other lessees, one of whom became a bankrupt. The property was then
divided into 36 shares of £1000 each, the greater number of which were
held by Sir Thomas Robinson, who built for himself a house adjoining to
Ranelagh Gardens. Several of his friends took shares in the concern, and
it became for a time prosperous.
* * * * *
The Rotunda was opened with a public breakfast, &c., in 1742. It was an
imitation of the Pantheon at Rome. The external diameter was 185 ft.,
the internal 150 ft. The entrances were by four Doric porticos opposite
each other, and the first story was rustic; round the whole, on the
outside, was an arcade, and over it a gallery, the stairs to which were
at the porticos. The interior was fitted up with great taste, and from
the ceiling descended 28 chandeliers, in two circles. Music and dancing
were the principal attractions. From the branches of the trees that
shaded every walk festoons of coloured lamps hung down. Royalty,
nobility, and gentry visited it.
PRESENTATION OF COLOURS TO THE CHELSEA VOLUNTEERS.
On the 4th of January, 1804, a brilliant scene was displayed at Ranelagh,
on the presentation of Colours to the Chelsea Royal Volunteers. About
noon the trumpet announced the arrival of the Courtly party in three of
his Majesty’s carriages, followed by others belonging to different
noblemen. The company having alighted, Lady Harrington was conducted to
her box by the Vice-Chamberlain. The Countess being seated two pairs of
Colours were introduced, and placed on each side of the royal box. The
King’s Colours of each regiment consisted of a plain Union standard, but
the regimental one, which was designed and executed by the Queen and
Princesses, was a superb piece of needlework, the ground being a rich
purple silk, having in the centre his Majesty’s arms, embroidered and
surrounded with sprigs of variegated tints and figures. At the lower
corners were the letters “C. R.,” and under the armorial bearings the
words, “Queen’s Royal Volunteers.” {199} After prayers and a suitable
discourse, Lady Harrington thus addressed the officers:—
“Gentlemen,—Her Majesty having been graciously pleased to confer upon
me the honour of presenting to you these Colours, I am anxious to
express how highly I am flattered by this distinguished mark of the
Queen’s favour. At a time of all others the most awful, when our
country is threatened with the unprovoked attack of a most implacable
enemy, and when you have evinced your readiness to stand forward in
the defence of everything that is most dear to us all, what can be
more gratifying to you than being so particularly distinguished by
her Majesty, and receiving your Colours from her? Animated as your
hearts must be in gratitude to the Queen, in addition to every other
noble sentiment that has guided you, from the moment of the first
offer of your services, it would not only be superfluous, but
presumptuous in me, to add anything more upon the occasion than the
expression of every fervent wish for your success in the event of the
enemy carrying his threats into execution; confident that no power,
however strenuously exerted, will ever wrest these Colours from you
while there is yet left a man in your corps to defend them.”
To this speech a suitable answer was made by Lord Hobart, who expressed,
in behalf of the corps, the most patriotic and grateful sentiments.
* * * * *
Subsequent Directors turned Ranelagh into mere Assembly and Concert
Rooms, and the gardens for a display of fire-works. It soon ceased to be
an attractive promenade, and the brilliant display of beauty it had made
for years was seen no more.
* * * * *
In 1805 an order was made for taking down Ranelagh House, which had been
the residence of Sir Thomas Robinson, and the Rotunda. The furniture was
sold by auction, and the entire buildings. General Wilford became the
purchaser of a portion of the land, on which he erected a large house,
and resided in it for many years. The ruins of some of the original
buildings belonging to Ranelagh Gardens remained for a considerable time
afterwards. In the front of General Wilford’s house, on the north, some
excellent cricket matches were played, for Chelsea then abounded with
first-rate cricketers.
At length the Crown purchased General Wilford’s house and the land
adjoining it, whereon the Rotunda formerly stood, for the use of Chelsea
Hospital, and when Lord John Russell (now Earl Russell) became
Paymaster-General, he caused the Ranelagh field, which was near the
river, to be laid out into portions or lots, for the old men to occupy,
each as his private garden. The remaining portion of the land of
Ranelagh, on the east, has since been added to the Hospital Gardens, and
presents one of the most picturesque specimens of gardening in the
vicinity of London. To these gardens the public have free access. Along
the side of them there is an excellent road leading to the Suspension
Bridge, and on the opposite side a splendid range of Barracks erected
within the last few years.
THE ORIGINAL CHELSEA BUNHOUSE.
Chelsea was famous for its buns from the commencement of the last
century. Swift, who lodged in Church Lane (street), and used to walk to
and from town, “two good miles, and just 5748 steps,” writes to Stella,
in 1712, “Pray, are not they fine buns sold here in our town? * * * Was
it not r-r-r-r-r-r rare Chelsea buns? I bought one in my walk.” This
old bunhouse was a rather long building of one storey, with a colonnade
in front, projecting over the pavement, the dwelling-house attached to it
standing in the rear, with a large and well-kept garden behind it. It
was situated in what was called Grosvenor Row, known as such at the time
the bunhouse was pulled down, the site of which is a little eastward
beyond the boundary line of this parish, and not far distant from Chelsea
Hospital. George II. and Queen Caroline, and the princesses, bought buns
here; as did George III. and Queen Charlotte, who presented to the
proprietor a silver half gallon mug, and five guineas in it. Here, on
Good Friday morning, £250 has been taken for buns; and so lately as 1839
no less than 240,000 buns were sold here on Good Friday. This may appear
to many an incredulous number; but few persons at the present time can
form an adequate idea of the immense demand for them.
* * * * *
The Rev. J. B. Owen, of St. Jude’s, Chelsea, in one of his admirable
lectures, delivered in 1860, humourously observed, “There is no poetry
more delicate, nor was street music more popular, than the old bellman’s
cry—‘Smoking hot, piping hot, Chelsea buns!’ Picture the enthusiasm of a
local rhymer thus immortalising the article:—
O flour of the ovens! a zephyr in paste!
Fragrant as honey, and sweeter in taste!
Hail to the bellman, who sings as he runs,
‘Smoking hot, piping hot, Chelsea buns!’
As flaky and white as if baked by the light,
As the flesh of an infant, soft, doughy, and slight;
The public devour thee like Goths and Huns,
‘Smoking hot, piping hot, Chelsea buns!’
Prelates, and princes, and lieges, and kings,
Hail for the bellman, who tinkles and sings,
Bouche of the highest and lowliest ones,
‘Smoking hot, piping hot, Chelsea buns!’
Like the home of your birth, or the scent of a flower,
Or the blush of the morning on field or bower,
There’s a charm in the sound which nobody shuns,
Of ‘Smoking hot, piping hot, Chelsea buns!’
This bunhouse had become so famous, not only throughout London, but for
several miles round it, that not to visit Chelsea on Good Friday, and
purchase some of the “rare buns,” was considered as unaccountable amongst
a certain class—such as the servants of the nobility and gentry, shopmen,
mechanics, and apprentices—as it would have been for them to acknowledge
that they had never heard of Greenwich Fair. But this part of Chelsea,
and the adjoining “Five Fields,” now Eaton and Belgrave Squares, actually
did represent a minor Greenwich Fair. From my own personal observation I
should say, provided the weather was favourable, there were generally on
Good Fridays nearly 200,000 persons collected in the immediate
neighbourhood. It was a fair to all intents and purposes. In the “Five
Fields” there were drinking booths, swings, gingerbread stalls, nine-pins
being played, gaming, and all the other vicious “entertainments” which
annually disgraced the metropolis in former times. Such was the pressure
of the immense crowd at the bunhouse, from about three o’clock in the
morning till five in the afternoon, that the only mode of supplying the
demand for buns was by obtaining them through apertures in the shutters.
The bunhouse, however, was very respectably conducted, and such scenes as
I have described were only to be witnessed on the day previously named—a
day set apart to commemorate the most momentous event, as regards its
consequences, in the history of the world.
* * * * *
There were many things very attractive at the original bunhouse. In it
was a collection of pictures, models, grotesque, figures, and modern
antiques. In a conspicuous position were two leaden figures of
grenadiers of 1745; a plaster figure of William, Duke of Cumberland; a
painting of the King and Queen seated; a model of the bunhouse, and of
the exploits of a bottle conjurer. This celebrated building was pulled
down some years since, and with it the olden charm fled.
* * * * *
Having thus arrived at the eastern boundary of the parish, I trace my
steps through Queen’s Road East, formerly called Jews’ Row. Many years
ago this road, for scenes of depravity, was as bad as any part of the
East end of London; but it happily was confined to this limited locality,
and arose from the circumstance that the Out-Pensioners from nearly all
parts of the country had to come to Chelsea Hospital to receive their
pensions, and disabled soldiers to pass the Board, &c., previously to
being discharged from the army. The Government at length wisely altered
the arrangement for paying the Out-Pensioners, and they now receive their
pensions in districts nearer to where they dwell, which prevents their
being put to the expense of coming to London, being robbed by “sharpers,”
or beset by prostitution. Jews’ Row, and its former scenes,
comparatively speaking, have passed away, and what remains of vice and
crime, in some of the crammed courts leading from it to Turks’ Row, is
gradually disappearing, through the exertions of the Rev. J. B. Owen,
M.A., of St. Jude’s Church, the District Visitors, and other agencies.
These courts will probably be cleared away before many years have
elapsed, and Queen’s Road East will then become one of the leading and
most attractive thoroughfares in the parish of Chelsea.
* * * * *
One very great improvement took place some few years since. The Burial
Ground was enclosed by a high dismal-looking old wall, which was pulled
down, and a new one built, not more than three feet high, on which a neat
iron-railing is placed, thus removing much vice and preventing many
robberies, and rendering the road perfectly safe.
* * * * *
In the year 1793 a horrible murder was committed in a house fronting the
North Court of the Royal Hospital. The victims were Mr. Silva and Mary
Williams, his servant. It appears to have been perpetrated in the
morning, between half-past eight and twelve o’clock.
* * * * *
George Saunders, at the inquest, stated that when the alarm was given he
entered the house, and, on lifting up the servant, Mary Williams, there
were signs of life, but she expired in two or three minutes. Mr. Silva
was alive, but speechless, and died shortly afterwards. He found in a
closet in the kitchen two iron chests, unlocked, and empty. In the front
room, one pair of stairs, a bureau open, with the drawers out, and the
papers in confusion, and on the floor a quantity of bedding, folded up.
* * * * *
Mr. North, surgeon, gave a fearful account of the wounds received, and
the jury, after a lengthened investigation, found a verdict of wilful
murder by persons unknown.
* * * * *
A nephew of Mr. Silva was taken up on suspicion, and examined at Bow
Street. He shewed, by respectable evidence, that he was at home when the
murder was committed, and was discharged. This person, however,
afterwards committed suicide, and he was buried in the highway at
Chelsea, leaving great doubts of his innocency of the crime.
Royal Military Asylum.
On the site of the Royal Military Asylum stood a capital mansion, the
residence for many years of the Cadogan family, and afterwards the
property of Sir Walter Farquhar, Bart., of whom it was purchased for the
purpose of erecting the present Institution.
* * * * *
The Royal Military Asylum for the children of soldiers of the regular
army is situated near the Royal Hospital, on the north east. It was
built by Mr. Copland, from the designs of Mr. Sanders. On the 19th of
June, 1801, the first stone of this structure was laid by the Duke of
York, accompanied by many general officers, and a considerable number of
the nobility. The motives which gave rise to the establishment, and the
principles upon which it is founded, are alike honourable to the present
enlightened age, and congenial with the soundest maxims of policy,
humanity, and benevolence. “The necessity of such an Institution will
appear obvious,” says Mr. Faulkner, “when we consider the helpless and
forlorn condition of many among these orphan objects of commiseration,
who in this comfortable asylum are clothed, have good wholesome food,
acquire a decent education, are taught the principles of Christianity,
and, finally, are made useful in whatever course of life they may be
enabled to adopt.”
* * * * *
The ground in front of this spacious building is laid out in grass plots
and gravel walks, and planted with trees. The edifice forms three sides
of a quadrangle; it is built of brick, with an elegant stone balustrade
in the centre of the western front, which is ornamented with a noble
portico of the Doric order, consisting of four columns, which support a
large and well-proportioned pediment. On the frieze is the following
inscription:—“The Royal Military Asylum for the Children of Soldiers of
the Regular Army.” Over it are the Imperial arms. The north and south
wings are joined to the principal front by a colonade, which forms a good
shelter for the boys in wet weather.
* * * * *
The vestibule is in the centre of the grand front. On the left and right
are the dining halls, 80 ft. long and 30 ft. wide. Over these are the
schoolrooms, of the same dimensions. The committee-room is over the
vestibule.
* * * * *