WALTHAM CROSS AND THEOBALDS
WALTHAM CROSS, which is not to be confounded with Waltham Holy Cross,
commonly called Waltham Abbey, for whilst the latter is in Essex, the
former is in Hertfordshire, and forms part of the parish of Cheshunt. To
reach Waltham Cross, the visitor must retrace his steps towards the
railway, and passing over this, the historic monument, which stands at
the junction with the old Great North Road—is reached by a walk of five
minutes’ duration.
Waltham Cross was one of the several similar monuments erected to the
memory of Queen Eleanor by her devoted husband, Edward I. She died at
Herdby, near Grantham, on November 12, 1290, whence her remains were
conveyed to Westminster for interment by stages which were marked by ten
crosses. Of these only the crosses at Geddington, Northampton, and
Waltham remain.
Waltham Cross has long been admired as an elegant specimen of Early
English or Middle Pointed architecture. It is hexagonal in form, and
consists of three handsome stages or storeys, each terminated by an
embattled frieze, whilst the angles are respectively supported by a
graduated buttress, ornamented with foliated finials. Within the panels
of the lower storey are shields bearing the arms of England, Castile, and
Leon and Poictou; whilst statues of Queen Eleanor occupy niches on the
second storey.
The Four Swans Inn.
Each corner of the road that here debouches upon the main high road is
occupied by an inn, that nearer London being the Falcon, and the other
the Four Swans. Both are survivals of that period of prosperity when the
coaches between London and Cambridge sped along the road. Whilst,
however, the Falcon has been rebuilt in recent times—a work which made
possible the widening of the roadway and the preservation of the
Cross—the Four Swans retains very much of its old-time glory, and its
sign is still stretched across the main street, forming an advertisement
of such a conspicuous character as would not be admissible now-a-days.
The interior of this inn possesses many of those interesting features
which are generally attached to old coaching and posting houses, and in
its oldest portion is a handsome Jacobean staircase. Its foundation,
however, dates far beyond even coaching days, for the house originally
formed part of the possessions of the Abbey, of which it was a guest
house, whilst the Abbot’s manorial court was held here. The oldest part
of the house is that to the left of the gateway on entering, and it is
highly probable that the suite of rooms in which the tenants
assembled—described by Dr. Stukeley in 1752 as being “where the chimneys
are”—were contained in this wing, whilst the older portion of the
spacious apartment over the gateway, now used as a masonic hall, formed
the abbot’s court-room. At other times the place was used for the
lodgement of pilgrims and similar purposes. The sign of the Four Swans,
the only one that I have met with, is derived from the arms of Earl
Harold, whose shield had emblazoned upon it a cross with four swans.
[Picture: The Eleanor Cross, showing detail of carving. From
“Picturesque Hertfordshire.” Drawn by Duncan Moul]
[Picture: Theobalds, formerly the favourite residence of King James I.]
Theobalds.
With the Abbey, the Cross, and the Four Swans Inn we leave behind us, it
may be said, associations with and monuments of mediæval times, and enter
upon the later, but no less stirring epoch of English history which is
marked by the Tudor, Jacobean, and Commonwealth periods, by a visit to
the historic seat of Theobalds, or Tibbles, as it is locally called. The
entrance to the park is from the high road, close to Theobalds Grove
Station on the Great Eastern Railway branch line to Cheshunt. As one
saunters through the long leafy aisle, there comes to mind the reference
to this famous seat and its locality in old Izaak Walton’s famous
classic, the “Complete Angler,” wherein the angler, the hunter, and the
falconer, each commends his recreation; Piscator avows his intention of
going “this fine, fresh May morning,” as far as Ware, whereupon Venator
says his purpose is to “drink my morning draught at the Thatched House,
Hoddesdon,” and Anceps rejoins: “Sir, I shall, by your favour, bear you
company as far as Theobalds, and there leave you; for then I turn up to a
friend’s house, who mews a hawk for me, which I now long to see.” The
present house of Theobalds, which is the seat of Lady Meux, is modern,
having been erected in 1768, and, though large, is not beautiful. A view
of the house and gardens can be obtained by taking the footpath on the
left, running along the bank of the New River, the stream being widened
into a lake here, and creating a very pretty feature of the Park lands.
[Picture: Temple Bar. In its new home, at the main entrance to Theobalds
Park]
The main entrance to the house is by the famous Temple Bar, which stands
a little further along the drive from which the path has been taken. A
more beautiful setting for Wren’s wonderful gateway it would scarcely be
possible to conceive or create, and I know not another gateway entrance
to a private park or domain throughout the country that is more beautiful
than this. The nobility of its lines, the grandeur of the design, and
the beauty of the stone are here all thrown into wonderful relief by the
rich green of the foliage which forms the setting of the gate. One
cannot help wondering what Dr. Johnson, or Sir Joshua Reynolds, or
Charles Lamb, to all of whom the old gate that marked the western
boundary of the city was familiar, would have said if they could have
seen it transported to its present position. They were all ardent lovers
of the town, and would certainly have lamented its loss from their Fleet
Street. The Doctor would probably have said, “Sir! it is a vile outrage
upon the City of London.” Yet I think their artistic perceptions would
have compelled them to admit that its new home endowed it with a grandeur
that it never before possessed.
Theobalds and its immediate vicinity is very rich in historic incidents.
With it are associated the lives and deeds of Cardinal Wolsey, the great
Lord Burleigh, Queen Elizabeth, James I., Charles I., the Cromwells, and
others.
Theobalds formed one of the six manors into which was parcelled the
parish of Cheshunt, which itself at the time of the Conquest formed a
manor in the Honour of Richmond, conferred upon Earl Alan by his uncle,
William the Conqueror. The origin of the name is unknown, but in 1441 we
find the manor of Theobalds was granted by the Crown to the hospital of
St. Anthony, in London. About the middle of the sixteenth century it was
conferred upon William Cecil, afterwards Lord Burleigh, Secretary of
State to Edward VI. and Elizabeth. In July, 1564, the queen paid her
trusty counsellor a visit here, and was so pleased with her reception and
the beauty of the place, that she expressed her intention of returning
hither at a future date. Cecil accordingly demolished the old grange and
erected a spacious and handsome mansion for her majesty’s reception.
A contemporary biographer of Cecil has pertinently observed, “He buylt
three houses; one in London for necessity, another at Burghley, of
computency for the mansion of his Barony, and another at Waltham for his
younger sonne, which at the first he meant but for a little pile, as I
have hard him saie, but after he came to enterteyne the Quene so often
there he was inforced to enlarge it, rather for the Quene and her greate
traine and to sette poore on worke, than for pompe or glory, for he ever
said it wold be to big for the smalle living he cold leave his sonne.”
The same author also says Cecil “greatlie delighted in making gardens,
fountaines, and walkes, which at Theobalds were perfected most costly,
bewtyfully and pleasauntly, while one might walk twoe myle in the walkes
before he came to their ends.”
Norden has remarked of Cecil’s new house: “To speake of the state and
beauty thereof at large as it deserveth for curious Buildings,
delightfull walkes and pleasaunt conceits within and without and other
Thinges very glorious and elegant to be seene, would challenge a great
portion of this little treatise, and therefore leaste I should come short
of that one commendation that it deserveth, I leave it as indeede it is,
a princely seate.”
Vallens, in his “Tale of Two Swannes” (1590) also pays a graceful tribute
to Cecil and old Theobalds in the following lines:
“Now see these Swannes, the new and worthy seate
Of famous Cecil, tresorer of the land,
Whose wisdome, counsell, skill of princes’ state
The world admires; then Swannes may do the same:
The house it selfe doth shewe the owner’s wit,
And may for beautie, state and every thing,
Compared be with most within the land.”
James I. and Theobalds.
Lord Burleigh was succeeded in 1598 by his second son, Robert, first Earl
of Salisbury, who here entertained James I. for four days on his way from
Scotland to London to take possession of the throne, as well as the Lords
of the Council, who were here to do homage to the son of Mary, Queen of
Scots. In July, 1606, James again visited the earl at Theobalds,
together with the King of Denmark, and their majesties were entertained
with great magnificence during a stay of five days. The account of the
proceedings related by a contemporary chronicler furnishes us with an
interesting if not very edifying glimpse into the ways and manners of
Court life in the seventeenth century. Much of the period of their
majesties’ stay at Theobalds appears to have been occupied by a series of
masques and debauches. At one of the pageants the King of Denmark
represented Solomon, and a lady of the Court, in the character of the
Queen of Sheba, proceeded to perform her part by laying gifts at the
monarch’s feet. She had, however, imbibed so freely of the fine wines
supplied from the Cecil cellar that she was unable to retain her balance,
and fell, sprawling, into the lap of the king. Rising from his
magnificent throne, the latter attempted to dance with the “fallen”
queen, but the royal legs being as unsteady as those of the lady, the
twain cut a sorry sight, and his majesty had to be carried away
ignominiously to his chamber. “Now did appear,” writes the chronicler,
who would seem to have been one of the guests, “Faith, Hope, and Charity.
Hope did essay to speak, but wine did render her endeavours so feeble
that she withdrew. Faith was then all alone, for I am certain she was
not joined by Good Works, and left the Court in a staggering condition.
Charity came then to the king’s feet, and soon returned to Hope and
Faith, who were both sick in the lower hall.”
So delighted was King Jamie with Theobalds and the hunting afforded by
its domain, as well as in the adjoining Enfield Chase and Waltham Forest,
that he prevailed upon the noble owner to exchange it for Hatfield, and
the latter has since that time (1608) remained the home of the Cecils.
The king enlarged the park of Theobalds, which he enclosed with a wall
ten miles in circumference. He passed nearly all his leisure here, and
died at Theobalds on March 25, 1625.
Charles I. also received homage at Theobalds upon his succession to the
throne, but he had not that affection for the place which his father
displayed. He retired hither, however, at the end of 1641, or beginning
of 1642, to escape the unpleasantness of State affairs, and in February
of the latter year here received the solemn remonstrance of Parliament.
Hence he set out a month later, with a body of adherents, to raise the
Royal Standard at Nottingham. It is by some stated that the unfortunate
king wrote a portion of the “Eikon Basilike” at Theobalds.
That strange passion for destruction which possessed Cromwell and the
Parliamentarians moved these ignorant sectarians to destroy the handsome
palace reared by Lord Burleigh, and enlarged and beautified by James I.;
its rich contents were dispersed, and its beautiful gardens ruthlessly
destroyed.
Charles II. bestowed the manor of Theobalds upon General Monk—for the
consideration of £12,067 6s. 8d.—and created him Duke of Albemarle. It
descended to the Duke of Montagu, and later to the Cromwell family, then
with the estate of Cheshunt Park to the Russells, subsequently became the
property of Sir George Prescott, and finally was purchased by the late
Sir Henry Meux, Bart. In 1712, when Sir Thomas Abney lived at Theobalds,
he persuaded Dr. Isaac Watts to retire hither. During his thirty-six
years’ residence here the learned divine wrote his famous hymns and
songs, and died in 1748 at the age of seventy-four.