CHAPTER VI

OUTLYING LONDON IN NORTH-EAST SURREY

[Sidenote: Dulwich]

Of the many villages of Northern Surrey that have during the last

half-century been converted into popular suburbs of London, few have

had a more interesting history than Dulwich, which has, moreover, in

spite of all the changes that have taken place in it and its

surroundings, retained something of the sylvan character that

distinguished it when it was a mere outlying forest hamlet of the

monastery of Bermondsey. On the dissolution of the religious houses

the manor of Dulwich was given by Henry VIII. to Thomas Calton, from

whose descendants it was bought in 1606 by the famous actor and Lord

Mayor of London, Edward Alleyn, who on his retirement from the stage

took up his residence in the ancient mansion belonging to it, from

which he watched the rising up of the 'Chappell, Schoole House and

Almshouses' that formed the nucleus of the celebrated college founded

by him, to which he gave the beautiful name of God's Gift.

In his delightful retreat the generous patron worked out the details of

his scheme with the aid of his architect and other helpers, and in its

grand {132} old hall he probably received the first master and warden

of his new foundation, and nominated the earliest recipients of his

bounty. From the Dulwich manor-house, too, are dated many of the

letters still preserved, that reveal the difficulties with which Edward

Alleyn had to contend before he could obtain the royal sanction

necessary to the permanent success of his enterprise, his chief

opponent, strange to say, having been the enlightened Lord Bacon, then

Lord Chancellor of England, who was anxious that he should endow

learning rather than relieve poverty. In 1619, however, the victory

was finally won, for on the 21st June of that year the Great Seal of

England was affixed to letters patent granting leave to Edward Alleyn

'to found and establish a college in Dulwich to endure and remain for

ever to the glory of Almighty God.' God's Gift College, thus started

on its long and useful career, originally consisted of a master and a

warden, both to be of the same name as the founder, four fellows, six

poor brethren, six poor sisters, and twelve poor scholars to be

selected from four London parishes. Later, however, the founder

somewhat extended his scheme, admitting eighty instead of twelve

students, and allowing the children of non-resident parents to share in

the benefits of the college on the payment of a small fee.

[Illustration: DULWICH COLLEGE]

The land included with the 'Chappell, Schoole House and Almshouses' in

Edward Alleyn's munificent gift extended from the heights now covered

with houses, known as Champion and Denmark Hill, across the valley in

which nestled the village of Dulwich, {133} to the lofty ridges now

occupied by Sydenham and Forest Hill, the value of which has increased

more than a thousandfold since the death of the donor, so that it

became absolutely necessary to modify the original rules, which, in

spite of Alleyn's earnest desire to provide for future contingencies,

were from the first wanting in the elasticity necessary to meet the

inevitable changes that time brings about. Not until 1857, however,

was any radical transformation effected, but at that date an Act of

Parliament was passed fully meeting the necessities of the case.

The buildings erected under the superintendence of Alleyn fell into

decay soon after their completion, and those replacing them suffered

much during the Civil War, when troops were quartered in the chapel,

who not only defaced the walls and desecrated the altar, but melted

down the leaden coffins enshrined in it to convert the material into

bullets. After the death of Charles I., whose cause had been espoused

by the fellows, all the revenues and lands of the college were

confiscated by Cromwell, but on the accession of Charles II. they were

restored to their owners, and they have never since been tampered with.

The ancient college buildings have been well restored, and retain the

old entrance-gates of finely wrought iron surmounted by the crest and

motto of the founder. They are grouped about a central square, and

consist of a chapel, in the chancel of which Edward Alleyn is buried, a

dining-hall, and an audit room, in which is an interesting collection

{134} of portraits, a library containing more than five thousand

volumes, a schoolroom, and a kitchen. Adjoining the quadrangle, on the

south-west, is the comparatively modern picture-gallery, built after

the designs of Sir John Soane for the reception of a fine collection of

pictures bequeathed to the college in 1811 by Sir Francis Bourgeois, on

the singular condition that he and his friends, Monsieur and Madame

Desenfans, from whom he had inherited the paintings, should be buried

near them. Their remains rest in a mausoleum connected with the

gallery, that was thrown open to the public in 1817, and contains,

amongst many other priceless treasures, masterpieces by Rembrandt,

Murillo, Velasquez, Gainsborough, and Sir Joshua Reynolds. The new

school buildings at Dulwich were built under the superintendence of Sir

Charles Barry after the radical change in the constitution of the

college, and were opened in 1870. They include a noble central block

with a spacious hall, a lecture-theatre and library, whilst two wings

connected with them afford accommodation for a large staff of masters

and some eight hundred boys.

[Sidenote: Sydenham]

Although the fame of its college and gallery has long since eclipsed

that of its spa, Dulwich was at one time much frequented by the wealthy

citizens of London, who resorted there to drink the waters of a spring

near the Green Man Inn, the site of which was later occupied by the

private school of Dr. Glennie, pulled down in its turn in 1825, in

which Lord Byron was a pupil for two years. There was a rival well in

the neighbouring hamlet of Sydenham {135} that was even more popular,

but all traces of both are now lost, and there is absolutely nothing

about the densely populated neighbourhood dominated by the Crystal

Palace, to recall the days when Campbell lived in the old house still

standing on Peak Hill, where he wrote 'Gertrude of Wyoming,'

'O'Connor's Child,' and the 'Battle of the Baltic.' The view from the

terrace of the palace itself is of course much the same in its general

features as that upon which the poet looked down, but the forest in

which he used to wander, that gave its name to Forest Hill, is replaced

by a sea of villas with no special character about them. Fortunately

the palace, in spite of the north wing having been destroyed by fire in

1866, is a dignified-looking structure. It was built with the

materials and partly on the plan of the Great Exhibition of 1851, and

the public are to be congratulated on the fact that its three hundred

acres of grounds preserve some of their original rural character when

the district was one of the most beautiful near London.

[Illustration: THE CRYSTAL PALACE]

Anerley, once famed for its tea-gardens; Gypsy Hill, long the haunt of

Zingari squatters; Norwood, or the wood north of Croydon; Streatham,

long the home of Mrs. Piozzi, with whom Dr. Johnson often stayed; and

Penge, that appears in an early nineteenth-century map as a town with

one inn, the Crooked Billet, were all for many centuries outlying

settlements, each with a distinctive charm of its own, the last-named

set in the midst of a wide-stretching common crossed by the Croydon

Canal with many picturesque locks, now replaced by the {136} iron road,

the levelling influence of which is apparent on every side.

[Sidenote: Hayes]

From the somewhat melancholy fate that has overtaken so much of Kent

and Surrey, the wildly beautiful Keston Common has so far escaped, and

the villages of Hayes and Keston, both on its north-western edge, are

still unspoiled. The former has a well-restored Early English church,

its Georgian rectory is a fine example of the domestic architecture of

its period, and near to it is the celebrated Hayes Place, built in 1757

by the great orator and statesman, Lord Chatham, whose favourite home

it was. In it, two years after its completion, was born his even more

famous son, William Pitt the younger, whose childhood was passed in a

small house connected with Hayes Place by a covered-in passage, for his

father was already suffering from the depression which so often clouded

his happiness, and, as related by Horace Walpole, who was a frequent

guest of Lord Chatham, the harassed statesman 'could not bear his

children under the same roof, nor communication from room to room, nor

whatever he thought promoted noise.' When in 1766 the elder Pitt

inherited another property elsewhere Hayes Place was sold to the

Honourable Thomas Walpole, but its previous owner was taken ill soon

afterwards, and entreated the purchaser to let him have it back. He

was convinced, he said, that he could recover nowhere else, and his

whim was humoured, with the best results. Lord Chatham returned to his

old home, which was his chief residence until his death. There he

received George II. {137} and George III., as well as the leading

politicians of the day; and there the young General Wolfe dined with

him on the eve of sailing for Canada. The younger William Pitt was now

the constant companion of the 'oracle of Hayes,' as his father was

affectionately called by his intimates, imbibing from him no doubt much

of the practical wisdom that from the first distinguished him; and he

it was who had the melancholy privilege of carrying the stricken

minister from the House of Lords when he fell down insensible after his

noble speech against the unworthy terms of peace proposed by the Duke

of Richmond. The dying statesman was taken back to Hayes Place, where

in a small room on the ground floor he breathed his last four weeks

later.

After the death of Lord Chatham, Hayes Place was sold, and since then

it has changed hands many times, but fortunately its various owners

have respected it for the sake of its memories, and but for the

addition of a new entrance-hall it remains practically what it was

during the occupancy of its first owner. It is the same with the

stables, that are some little distance from the house, which have been

kept as they were when the old earl and his sons used daily to go down

to inspect the horses, and in one corner of the yard is a platform from

which, according to tradition, William Pitt the younger used to

rehearse his speeches in the presence of his father and the rest of the

household.

Keston village, originally a dependency of the manor of the same name

that was once the property {138} of Bishop Odo of Bayeux, consists of a

few old houses and cottages, some grouped about the Red Cross Inn, also

known as Keston Mark, possibly because it is situated on an ancient

boundary, others on the common near a picturesque windmill. Its

church, a humble little sanctuary, with a nave and chancel only,

contains a fine Norman arch, possibly a relic of an earlier building,

and in its quiet graveyard rests the novelist Mrs. Craik, better known

as Miss Muloch.

[Sidenote: Holwood House]

On Keston Common, in a spring known as Cæsar's Well, rises the

Ravensbourne, which widens close by into a series of ponds overshadowed

by venerable trees, and near to them, within the grounds of Holwood

House, are the remains of a Roman camp in which, according to some

authorities, Aulus Plautius awaited the coming of the Emperor Claudius

to receive the homage of the conquered Britons. Whether there be any

foundation for this belief or not, there appears at one time to have

been an important Roman settlement on Holwood Hill, a complete villa,

the foundations of a temple, and many bricks and tiles having been

unearthed at different times. Keston is, however, now chiefly

celebrated for its connection with William Pitt, who lived for many

years in a house that occupied the site of the present mansion in

Holwood Park. Even when still a child living on his father's estate at

Hayes, Pitt longed, as he often told his friends, 'to call the wood of

Holwood his own,' and great was his delight when, in 1785, two years

after he became Prime Minister, he was able to purchase it. The table

at {139} which he used to write is still preserved in Holwood House,

and the park was laid out by him. Many of its trees were planted by

his own hand, and others, already venerable when he became their owner,

are associated with interesting incidents of his career. One noble

wide-spreading oak near the chief entrance to the park is specially

revered, because of the tradition that Pitt and William Wilberforce

were seated beneath it when they arranged the opening of the campaign

against slavery, a fact commemorated by a quotation from one of the

latter's letters that is cut in the back of a stone seat marking their

resting-place, placed in position by Lord Stanhope in 1862. 'I well

remember,' said the philanthropist, 'after a conversation with Mr.

Pitt, in the open air, on the root of an old tree at Holwood, just

above the steep descent into the vale of Keston, I resolved to give

notice, on a fit occasion, to bring forward the abolition of the

slave-trade.' The important meeting probably took place in 1787, and

Wilberforce was often at Holwood House during the first few of the

nineteen years' struggle thus inaugurated, finding distraction from his

ever accumulating worries in aiding his host in his amateur woodcraft.

In his diary for April 7, 1790, for instance, he records how he sallied

forth with Pitt and Grenville, then Speaker of the House of Commons,

'armed with bill-hooks, cutting new walks from one large tree to

another through the thickets,' neither of them dreaming how soon the

beautiful estate would cease to belong to their host who, a little

later, was compelled to part with it. It was {140} sold for £15,000, a

very large sum for those days, and, after changing hands more than

once, was bought by a Mr. John Ward, who, with little respect for its

memories, pulled down the old house to make room for an ornate villa in

the Italian style, and cleared away much of the woods that had been the

Prime Minister's especial pride.

[Sidenote: West Wickham]

Though not quite so picturesquely situated as Keston, the neighbouring

villages of Farnborough and Downe--the former associated with the name

of Sir John Lubbock, who lived for some years at High Elms, the latter

with that of Charles Darwin, who long resided at Downe House--have

something of its quiet charm. West Wickham, too, though it has

unfortunately recently been discovered by the jerry-builder, is still a

pretty place, the older cottages and farms clustering about Wickham

Court, erected on the site of the original manor-house in the reign of

Edward III. by Sir Henry Heydon, but almost entirely rebuilt in the

time of Henry VIII. The Heydons were near relations of Anne Boleyn,

who is said to have passed some of her happiest days at Wickham Court

when her royal suitor was courting her, a tradition confirmed by the

true-lovers' knot in which her initials and Henry's are intertwined,

engraved on one of the windows in the dining-hall. Very often,

probably, the enamoured pair paced to and fro on the smooth

bowling-green or on the long grass walk, still known as Anne Boleyn's,

between the dense yew hedges, that remain unchanged to this day.

Sometimes, too, it is related, the fair Anne would await the coming of

her lover in a little Gothic {141} tower, to which a subterranean

corridor gave access, and the two may possibly have explored together

the secret passages that led beneath the grounds of the mansion to

Hayes Common and elsewhere. A new entrance was made to Wickham Court

by Sir Charles Farnaby, the ancestor of the present owner, but the rest

of the house is much what it was when completed in the sixteenth

century, and is a fine example of Tudor domestic architecture. The

massive oaken door, with its huge iron bolt, may be the very one that

was so often flung open to admit the guests of the Heydons, including

Henry VIII. and Anne Boleyn, to pass through to the banquets held in

the great hall. It bears the marks of many a siege, and must have

received very rough usage in the troublous times of the Stuarts, when

the gloomy dungeon beneath the north-west turret served sometimes as a

prison to the enemies, sometimes as a hiding-place to the friends of

the owner of the property.

The church of West Wickham, which, with the creeper-clad turrets and

chimneys of the court form a charming group when seen from a distance,

was rebuilt at the same time as the latter by Sir Henry Heydon, and

owns some fine sixteenth-century windows, including one representing

scenes from the legend of St. Catherine. There are also some

well-preserved monuments and brasses in the nave and chancel, and in

the churchyard, entered by an ancient lych gate, with a tiled roof, are

some interesting old tombs.

In a wood not far from West Wickham is the grand old hollow oak painted

by Millais as the {142} hiding-place of his 'Proscribed Royalist,' and

the village itself is associated with the memory of many other famous

men. Before Lord Chatham bought the mansion at Hayes in which his

celebrated son was born, he lived for some years at South Lodge, and in

a smaller house dwelt the Latin chronicler Gilbert West, who was often

visited in his retreat by William Pitt the younger, Lord Lyttelton, and

the eccentric merchant poet Richard Glover.

[Sidenote: Addington]

Another ancient and still picturesque village of Surrey is the

beautifully situated Addington, the name of which is supposed to

signify the town of the Edings, though who these Edings were history

does not say. The manor is referred to in Doomsday Book as being held

under the king by Tezelm, a cook in the royal service, and from that

time to the accession of George III. the owners of the property were

bound to observe the quaint custom of preparing a dish, or providing a

substitute to do so, for the monarch's consumption on the day of his

coronation. The last time the strange ceremony was performed was in

1760, when Mr. Spencer, then lord of the manor, presented to the newly

crowned monarch a dish of pottage made according to an ancient recipe,

and containing an extraordinary number of ingredients.

Early in the fifteenth century a manor-house that was more of a

stronghold than a private home, was erected at Addington, on what is

still known as Castle Hill, but it was pulled down in 1780 and replaced

by a less ambitious building on another site, that later became a

summer residence of the Archbishops of {143} Canterbury, to whom the

property passed by purchase in 1807. With the chapel and library,

added in 1830, it now presents a very dignified appearance, and is

surrounded by a beautiful park.

The parish church of Addington, though it has been much modified by

restoration, retains a fine Norman arch dividing the nave from the

chancel, some early Gothic arcades and three very ancient windows, with

a good modern one to the memory of Archbishop Tait, who with his wife

and one of his sons lie buried in the churchyard, close to Archbishop

Longley. In the chancel are some quaint old monuments, notably one to

some members of the Leigh family, and several interesting brasses,

including that to the memory of Thomas Hatteclyff, who was one of the

Masters of the Household of Henry VIII., and died in 1540.

There is little very distinctive about the modern village of Addington,

though it retains a few quaint old cottages, and is celebrated for its

inhabitants' love of flowers. It is, however, set down in very

beautiful scenery, that seems likely long to remain unspoiled. Within

easy reach of it and of Croydon, the former residence of the

Archbishops of Canterbury, are several other pretty villages and

hamlets, including Shirley, with a good modern church, finely situated

on the edge of a breezy common; Woodside, that is rapidly losing its

rural character through its proximity to the racecourse and railway;

and Addiscombe, once famous for a fine old mansion, long the residence

of Lord Liverpool, which was pulled down in 1863. When Lord Liverpool,

who {144} became Prime Minister in 1809, was at Addiscombe, his

predecessor in that office, William Pitt, was often his guest, and the

story goes that on one occasion the latter had a narrow escape from

sudden death, for he and a party of politicians, who had been dining

with the Tory statesman, dashed through the turnpike gates, without

paying the toll. The keeper, supposing them to be highwaymen, fired

his blunderbuss at the offenders, but with such bad aim that no one was

hurt--somewhat, it was rumoured at the time, to the regret of Pitt's

many enemies, who would gladly have heard of his removal from their

path.

In a charming district east of Croydon are several other still

picturesque villages that are gradually being drawn into the

ever-widening circle of outlying London, amongst which must be

specially noted Sanderstead, perched on the brink of the chalk-downs

some 550 feet above the sea level. Mentioned in the will of its

Anglo-Saxon owner in 871 as Sansterstede, the manor was in the

possession one hundred and ninety-five years later of the abbey of St.

Peter's, Westminster, and in the family of the Wigsells, to whom it now

belongs, is preserved an interesting memorial of that ownership in the

form of a deed bearing the abbey seal, recording the exchange of half a

hide of land for a piece of equal value at Papeholt.

[Sidenote: Purley]

Although it has unfortunately been somewhat spoiled by restoration, the

general appearance of the fifteenth-century parish church of

Sanderstead, with its square tower and shingled spire, is much what it

{145} was when, in 1676, the mansion replacing the old

manor-house--that is said to have been constructed of the materials of

a twelfth-century monastery--was completed, and amongst the monuments

preserved in it are three of considerable antiquarian interest: that of

Joanna Ownstead, who died in 1587; that of her brother, John Ownstead,

who was for forty years in the service of Queen Elizabeth, and passed

away in 1601; and that to Mary Bedell bearing the date 1655. Within a

short walk of Sanderstead is the village of Purley, generally believed

to be named after William de Pirelea, who bought the land on which it

and the mansion known as Purley Lodge are built, some time in the

twelfth century, from the abbot of the neighbouring Monastery of Hide,

of which no trace now remains. The date of the building of Purley

Lodge is not known, but it is famous as having been the residence of

John Bradshaw, who was President of the High Court of Justice that

condemned Charles I. to death. Later it was the home of William Tooke,

who often received in it his more celebrated friend, the Rev. John

Horne, who took the name of his host in gratitude for the kindness

shown to him in the long struggle with the Government during the War of

Independence. After the imprisonment of Horne for getting up a

subscription for the widows and orphans of those who fell at Lexington,

or, as he expressed it, were murdered by the king's troops, Tooke gave

him an asylum at Purley, and it was there that he completed the quaint

_Epea Ptroenta_, to which he gave the sub-title of the 'Diversions of

Purley.' On his {146} death William Tooke bequeathed £8000 and Purley

Lodge to Horne, who, though he had a house at Wimbledon, where he died

in 1812, was often at Purley. He wished to be buried in the garden of

the Lodge, and had prepared his grave and tombstone, the latter bearing

the inscription--'John Horne Tooke, late Proprietor and now occupier of

this spot, born in June 1736, died in--aged--contented and

grateful'--but his relatives disregarded his instructions, and he rests

in the parish where he breathed his last.

Other still secluded hamlets of north-east Surrey are Farley, with a

very interesting Norman and Early English church, and a quaint old

moated manor-house, now a farm, and Warlingham, long celebrated for its

beautiful common, that was, alas, enclosed in 1864 with the exception

of five acres that were reserved for a recreation-ground, the latter

with a well-restored old church of uncertain date, the first, according

to tradition, in which the service of Edward VI. was used.

[Sidenote: Caterham]

Warlingham was one of the four hams or homes on the hill occupied

before the Conquest by the Saxon tribe known as Wearlingas, the other

three having been Woldingham, Chelsham, and Caterham, near to all of

which extensive remains have been found of early encampments and

defences. Woldingham, that gives its name to a new suburb close by, is

still a village, though its doom is evidently sealed, and it is the

same with Chelsham, but Caterham has already grown into a town.

Picturesquely built, partly in a beautiful valley and partly on the

{147} slope of a hill, it retains, however, some interesting relics of

the long-ago, including a well-restored fourteenth-century church, and

all four of the ancient hams are in touch with beautiful scenery, lofty

and breezy commons commanding fine views alternating with well-wooded

undulating districts.

{148}

The Skirts of the Great City · 第 6 / 12 章