Milman Street at present does not look very imposing. The houses and shops are squalid and mean. Near the King’s Road end is the Moravian burial-ground, which is cut off from the street by a door, over which are the words “Park Chapel National School, Church of England.” The burial-ground is small in extent, and is a square enclosure surrounded by wooden palings, and cut into four equal divisions by two bisecting paths. One of its walls is supposed to be the identical one bounding Sir T. More’s garden. At one end it is overshadowed by a row of fine elms, but in the plot itself there are no trees. What was formerly the chapel, at the north end, is now used as a school-house. Now and then the Moravians hold meetings there. The gravestones, laid horizontally in regular rows, are very small, and almost hidden by the long grass. The married men are in one quarter, and the bachelors in another, and the married and single women are separated in the same way. On the side of the chapel is a slab to the memory of Count Zinzendorf, who died in 1760.
Not far from the corner (eastward), as we turn on to the Embankment, is the famous Lindsey House, which claims to be the second oldest house in Chelsea, the first being Stanley House (see p. 55). The original house was built by Theodore Turquet de Mayerne, some time before the middle 51 of the seventeenth century. De Mayerne was Court physician to Henry IV. and Louis XIII. of France. About twenty years later it was bought by Montague Bertie, second Earl of Lindsey, whose son rebuilt or altered it largely. It remained in the Lindsey family until 1750. The family of the Windsors leased it for some time, and one of them was married in the parish church to the widow of the unjust Judge Jeffreys. In 1750 the Earl of Lindsey, created Duke of Ancaster, sold it to the Count Zinzendorf mentioned above, who intended to make it the nucleus for a Moravian settlement in Chelsea. Ten years later he died, and some time after his death the Moravians sold Lindsey House. It is now divided into five houses, and the different portions have been so much altered, by the renovations of various owners, that it is difficult to see the unity of design, but one of the divisions retains the old name on its gateway. It is supposed that Wren was the architect. Amongst other notable residents who lived here were Isambard Brunel, the engineer; Bramah, of lock fame; Martin, the painter, who was visited by Prince Albert; and Whistler, the artist. Close by Lindsey Row the river takes an abrupt turn, making a little bay, and here, below the level of the street, is a little creeper-covered house where the great colourist Turner lived for many years, gaining gorgeous sky effects from the red sunsets 52 reflected in the water. The house is numbered 118, and has high green wooden pailings. It is next to a public-house named The Aquatic, and so will be easily seen. The turning beyond is Blantyre Street. Turner’s real house was in Queen Anne Street, and he used to slip away to Chelsea on the sly, keeping his whereabouts private, even from his nearest friends. He was found here, under the assumed name of Admiral Booth, the day before his death, December 19, 1851. The World’s End Passage is a remembrance of the time when the western end of Chelsea was indeed the end of the world to the folks of London. Beyond World’s End Passage were formerly two houses of note—Chelsea Farm, afterwards Cremorne Villa, and Ashburnham House. The first of these lay near what is now Seaton Street. If we pass down Blantyre Street, which for part of the distance runs parallel to World’s End Passage, we find three streets running into it at an obtuse angle. The first of these, from the King’s Road end, is Seaton Street. It was just beyond this that the Earl of Huntingdon, about the middle of the eighteenth century, built Chelsea Farm. His widow, who lived there after his death, was connected with the Methodist movement, and built many chapels. She left the farm in 1748. It was then sold, and passed through various hands, until it came into the possession of Baron 53 Dartrey, afterwards Viscount Cremorne, from whom it gained its later name. Lady Cremorne was frequently visited by Queen Charlotte. This Lady Cremorne was a descendant of William Penn, founder of Pennsylvania. After her death the villa and grounds were sold. In 1845 the place was opened as Cremorne pleasure-gardens. These gardens, though famous, never rivalled successfully those of Ranelagh, at the eastern extremity of Chelsea. They were only open for thirty-two years, but during that time acquired the reputation for being the resort of all the rowdies in the neighbourhood. The noise made by the rabble passing along the river side after the closing at nights caused great annoyance to the respectable inhabitants, and finally led to the suppression of the gardens. L’Estrange says that the site extended over the grounds of Ashburnham as well as Cremorne House.
Cremorne Road is an offshoot of Ashburnham Road. Ashburnham House was built in 1747 by Dr. Benjamin Hoadley, son of the Bishop of that name, and author of “The Suspicious Husband.” However, the house is remembered, not by his name, but by that of its second purchaser, the Earl of Ashburnham, who had here a collection of costly paintings. The grounds were very well laid out, and adorned with statues.
Lots Road, running parallel to the river, retains 54 in its name a memory of the “lots” of ground belonging to the manor, over which the parishioners had Lammas rights.
Burnaby Street, running out of it, is named after a brother of Admiral Sir William Burnaby, who lived for some time in the neighbourhood. Beyond is Stadium Street, named after Cremorne House when it was used as a national club, and bore the alternative name of The Stadium. To the south of Lots Road are the wharves of Chelsea and Kensington. Chelsea Creek runs in here, cutting past the angle of Lots Road and turning northward to the King’s Road, where it is crossed by Stanley Bridge. The West London railway-line has its Chelsea station just above the bridge.
Even this remote corner of Chelsea is not without its historical associations. Just across the bridge, on the Fulham side, but usually spoken of as belonging to Chelsea, is the old Sandford Manor House, supposed to have been the home of Nell Gwynne. This house is connected with Addison, who wrote from here many beautiful letters to little Lord Warwick, who became his stepson on his marriage with the Dowager Countess in 1716. In one of these he says: “The business of this is to invite you to a concert of music, which I have found in a neighbouring wood. It begins precisely at six in the evening, and consists of a blackbird, 55 a thrush, a robin redbreast and a bullfinch. There is a lark that, by way of overture, sings and mounts until she is almost out of hearing ... and the whole is concluded by a nightingale.”
It would be difficult to find a wood affording such a concert in the vicinity of Chelsea Creek now.
PART II
Chelsea may be roughly divided into two great triangles, having a common side in the King’s Road. Allusion has now been made to all the southern half, and there remains the northern, which is not nearly so interesting. Beginning at the west end where the last part finished, we find, bordering the railway, St. Mark’s College and Schools. The house of the Principal is Stanley House, the oldest remaining in the parish. There has been some confusion between this and Milman House, as both were the property of Sir Robert Stanley, the former coming into his possession by his marriage with the daughter of Sir Arthur Gorges. The Stanley monument in More’s chapel will be also recalled in this connection. Stanley House as it now stands was built in 1691, and is not at all picturesque. The original building, 56 which preceded it, was known as Brickills, and was leased by Lady Stanley from her mother, Lady Elizabeth Gorges. In 1637, when Lady Gorges died, she left the house and grounds to her daughter by will, and the Stanleys lived there until 1691, when the last male descendant died. At this time the present house was built. The Arundels occupied it first, and after them Admiral Sir Charles Wager, and then the Countess of Strathmore. It was purchased from her by a Mr. Lochee, who kept a military academy here. Among the later residents were Sir William Hamilton, who built a large hall to contain the original casts of the Elgin Marbles. These casts form a frieze round the room, and detached fragments are hung separately. This room alone in the house is not panelled. The panelling of the others was for many years covered with paper, which has been gradually removed. The drawing-room door, which faces the entrance in the hall, is very finely carved. The house and grounds were bought from Sir W. Hamilton in 1840 by the National Society, at the instigation of Mr. G. F. Mathison, whose untiring efforts resulted in the foundation of St. Mark’s College for the training of school-masters. The first Principal was the Rev. Derwent Coleridge, son of S. T. Coleridge. His daughter Christabel has given a charming account of the early days of St. Mark’s 57 in a little book published in the Jubilee year. In the early part of 1841 ten students were residents in the college. The chapel was opened two years later, in May, 1843.
The Chapel has always been famous for its music and singing. It was among the first of the London churches to have a choral service. The students now number 120, and a large majority of these take Holy Orders. The grounds are kept in beautiful order, and the great elms which overshadow the green lawns must be contemporary with the house.
The King’s Road was so named in honour of Charles II., and it was notorious in its early days for footpads and robbers. In the eighteenth century the Earl of Peterborough was stopped in it by highwaymen, one of whom was discovered to be a student of the Temple, who lived “by play, sharping, and a little on the highway.” There was an attempt made at first to keep the road for the use of the Royal Family, and later on, those who had the privilege of using it had metal tickets given to them, and it was not opened for public traffic until 1830.
At no part of its length can King’s Road claim to show any fine vista, and at the west end the buildings are particularly poor and squalid. In Park Walk stands Park Chapel, an old-fashioned church with a gallery in no particular style of 58 architecture. It was founded in 1718, and in it General Gordon received the Holy Communion before he left for Khartoum. Park Walk is marked on Hamilton’s Survey as Lovers’ Walk, and forms the western boundary of the ancient Lord Wharton’s Park, which extended from the King’s Road to Fulham Road and contained forty acres. Faulkner says that it was part of the estate purchased by Sir Thomas More. There was an attempt made in 1721 to encourage the manufacture of raw silk; for this purpose the park was planted with mulberry-trees. The scheme, however, failed. The park is now thickly covered with houses; its eastern side was bounded by the “Road to the Cross Tree”—in other words, to what was called the Queen’s Elm. This name still survives in a public-house at the north corner of what is now Church Street. It was derived from a tradition that Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth stood here to shelter from a shower under a great elm-tree, accompanied by her courtier Lord Burleigh. The tree is mentioned in the parish books in 1586. At the top of Church Street, near the Fulham Road, there is a high stone wall enclosing the Jews’ Burial-ground. The graves lie in long rows, but are not divided according to sex as with the Moravians. Overlooking the burial-ground is the Hospital for Women founded in 1871. It is a red-brick building with ornate stone facing. 59 Beyond it is the Consumption Hospital, which is only an off-shoot of the main building over the road in the borough of Kensington. Arthur Street (formerly Charles Street), a few yards further on, leads us into the South Parade, which forms the northern side of Trafalgar Square. The square is wide, with a garden in the centre. At the south-western corner it is adjacent to Carlyle Square, which faces the King’s Road.
This is a most picturesque little square with a country-like profusion of trees in its green garden. On the eastern side the road through Trafalgar Square runs on under the name of Manresa Road. This is lined with studios, and abounds in artists and sculptors.
In Manresa Road are the Chelsea Public Library and the Polytechnic for South-west London north of the river. The latter cannot be claimed exclusively by Chelsea, and therefore is not described in detail. The library was opened temporarily in 1887, and by 1891 the new building was ready. The librarian is Mr. J. H. Quinn, who has been there since the inauguration. The rooms have, since the opening, been greatly improved, and the library is now exceptionally interesting. On the ground-floor is a gallery open from 3 to 9 p.m. every week-day, except Wednesday, when the time of opening is two hours later. Here there is a collection of water-colour paintings and old prints 60 illustrative of old Chelsea, and anyone who has taken any interest in the magnificent old mansions that made Chelsea a village of palaces will be well advised to go to see what these buildings were actually like. In the gallery also are cases containing the Keats collection, deposited by Sir Charles Dilke during his lifetime, but at his death to go to Hampstead, on account of the poet’s connection with that place. Here are to be seen the editions of Shakespeare and Bacon annotated by Keats’ own hands, and his love-letters; also a letter from his publishers, abusing him furiously, which shows how much the contemporary judgment of the poems differed from that of posterity.
The reference-room in the library upstairs is exceptionally fine, and especial care has been taken to make the local topographical department as rich as possible. Among the volumes of the greatest value are Bowack’s “Middlesex,” which formerly belonged to Lord Brabourne; Faulkner’s two-volume edition of “Chelsea,” which has been “grangerized,” and is illustrated by innumerable portraits, letters, views, etc., and in the process has been expanded into four large quarto volumes. There is also the original manuscript of Faulkner’s account of the Royal Military Asylum and the Royal College and Hospital, with all the author’s corrections.
Manresa Road runs into the King’s Road, and 61 after the next turning eastward there is an old burial-ground, given to the parish by Sir Hans Sloane, and consecrated 1736. Cipriani, the engraver, a foundation member of the Royal Academy, is buried here, and there is a monument erected to his memory by his friend and contemporary, Bartolozzi. When the Sydney Street burial-ground was opened in 1810, this was used for interment no more. Chelsea Workhouse stands just behind it, and the old women use the burial-ground for exercise. It is a quaint sight to see them through the tall iron railings wandering about dressed in their bright red-and-black check shawls, blue cotton dresses, and white frilled caps. The workhouse was begun in 1787, but has been largely added to since then. The Guardians’ offices adjoin the burial-ground, and on the opposite side of the street, a little further eastward, is the Town Hall, with a row of urns surmounting its parapet. The borough Councillors have their offices here.
Further on is Sydney Street, formerly Robert Street, running out of the King’s Road on the north side. Here stands St. Luke’s Church. The foundation-stone of this building was laid in 1820, and it was consecrated in 1824. For many years previously a discussion concerning the desirability of further church accommodation had been going on. The church was built on the old burial-ground, 62 and the tombstones which were removed in the course of erection are placed in long rows round a low wall. The building is of Bath stone, and has flying buttresses and a high square tower. In the interior it presents the greatest possible contrast to the old church. Here there is great height, the arches are pointed, the stonework light. The spire is 142 feet high, and the interior 130 feet long by 60 broad. From the interior vault of the roof to the pavement the height is 60 feet. Over the Communion-table is “The Entombment of Christ,” an oil-painting by J. Northcote, R.A. To the north of the church lies Pond Place, a remembrance of the time when a “pond and pits” stood on Chelsea Common hereabouts.
Not far from the top of Sydney Street, in the Fulham Road, is the Cancer Hospital, founded by William Marsden, M.D., in 1851. It was only on a small scale at first, but public donations and subscriptions now enable 100 patients to receive all the care and treatment necessary to alleviate their terrible infliction, and more than 1,500 are treated as out-patients. The chief fact about the hospital is that it is absolutely free. The disease itself is the passport of admittance. In this respect there is only one other hospital in London like it, and that is the Royal Free Hospital in Gray’s Inn Road, which was founded by the same benefactor. 63 The small chapel attached, in which there is daily service, was built about ten years ago, and consecrated by the Bishop of London. There is almost an acre of garden. Following the Fulham Road eastwards, we come to Marlborough Road. There is a tradition that the Duke of Marlborough at one time occupied a house here, but there seems to be no truth in it whatever.
Cale Street was named after one Judith Cale, who was a benefactor to the parish. South of it we have Jubilee Place, recalling the jubilee of George III., and Markham Street and Markham Square. At the corner of the former is an old house still called the Box Farm, and bearing the date 1686. In Markham Square is a large Congregational chapel, opened in 1860.
Cadogan Street contains St. Mary’s Roman Catholic Church, almshouses, school and cemetery. The actual fabric of this church was founded in 1879, but the mission of which it is the development began in 1812, and was at first established on the opposite side of the road. The building is of stone, and is in the Early English style, from designs by J. Bentley. Two oil-paintings on the pillars at the entrance to the chancel are by Westlake. There is also a large oil-painting over the altar. A statue to the memory of the founder of the mission, the Abbé Voyaux de Franous, stands in the northern aisle, and a small chapel on 64 the southern side has a magnificent carved stone altarpiece by the younger Pugin, supposed to have been executed from a design by his father.
Halsey Street and Moore Street lead northward into Milner Terrace, in which stands the modern church of St. Simon Zelotes. We now get back into the aristocratic part of Chelsea in Lennox Gardens, which open out of Milner Terrace.
At the west end of Pont Street stands the Church of St. Columba, opened 1884. Here the services are conducted according to the use of the Established Church of Scotland in London. The building, which is of red brick with stone dressings, is in the style of the thirteenth century. It was opened in 1884, and seats about 800 people. The pillars in the interior are of granite, and the pulpit of carved Aubigné stone. There are several stained-glass windows. The architect was Mr. Granderson.
Pont Street is built entirely of red brick, the houses being in a modernized seventeenth century style. From Pont Street opens out Cadogan Square. This square is very modern, and stands on part of the site of Princes’ Cricket-ground.
Hans Place deserves more special mention. “L. E. L.” (Letitia Elizabeth Landon), the poetess who was “dying for a little love,” spent the greater part of her life here. She was born at No. 25, and educated at No. 22, both of which have now 65 disappeared. Shelley stayed here for a short time, and Miss Mitford was educated at a school (No. 2) which turned out several literary pupils. Hans Place was laid out in 1777 by a Mr. Holland, who built a great house called the Pavilion, as a model for the Prince of Wales’s Pavilion at Brighton; it was pulled down in 1879. The grounds comprised twenty-one acres of land, and contained a large piece of ornamental water. To the west of Hans Place, in Walton Street, is St. Saviour’s Church, founded in 1839. A handsome chancel was added in 1890, and opened by the Bishop of London. At the same time a new organ was added. The chief feature of interest is a fine oak screen, on which the carving represents the nine orders of angels.
On the east is Pavilion Road: the derivation of the name is obvious. It runs parallel to the whole length of Sloane Street. Sloane Street itself is exactly a mile long from the square to Knightsbridge. The Church of Holy Trinity, just above the square, is in an unusual style of architecture; its two tall towers of red brick faced with stone add an imposing detail to the architecture of the street. The first church was consecrated in 1830, but pulled down in 1889 and replaced by the present one, due to the generosity of Earl Cadogan. The architect was F. R. Sedding, F.R.I.B.A. Within, the building is very light and 66 high, and all the fittings are exquisitely finished. The pulpit is of marble with inlaid panels. The east window is very fine, and the stained glass was designed by Burne-Jones, R.A., and supplied by Morris. The wrought-iron gates and brass panels on the chancel stalls are worth notice, also the graceful figure supporting the lectern, which is the work of H. H. Armstead, R.A. The handsome organ screen of iron, gilded over, and oxidized copper is a memorial gift, and the frontal picture on the chapel altar is by Reynolds Stephens.
East of Sloane Street is the aristocratic Lowndes Square, of which the name is evidently derived from a former owner, for on a map of Chelsea, 1741-45, this spot is marked “Lowndes, Esq.” Cadogan Place lies a little further south, and is open to Sloane Street on one side. Chelsea House, Earl Cadogan’s town residence, is in the north-east corner, and is marked by its stone facing in contrast with its brick neighbours. Below Cadogan Place is a network of little, unimportant streets. Byron stayed in Sloane Terrace with his mother in 1799, when he came to London for medical advice about his foot. The Court theatre in the square has been erected within the last thirty years. Sloane Gardens runs parallel to Lower Sloane Street, and behind is Holbein Place, from which we started on our perambulations. We have now made a complete circuit through 67 Chelsea, looking into every street and commenting on every building or site of importance in the parish.
PART III
THE ROYAL HOSPITAL AND RANELAGH GARDENS.
Chelsea College originally stood on the site of the present Royal Hospital, and was founded by Matthew Sutcliffe, Dean of Exeter in 1610, as a school for polemical discussion. It was nicknamed by Laud “Controversy College.” King James I. called it after himself, and gave all the timber required for building purposes from Windsor Forest free of charge, and, according to the manner of Princes in those days, issued royal letters inciting his subjects to contribute to his own scheme. Sutcliffe spent £3,000 on the portion of the building which was completed. The original intention was to have two large quadrangles ornamented by towers and cloisters, but only one eighth of this was ever completed—one side only of the first quadrangle, “which,” remarks Fuller, “made not of free stone, though of free timber, cost—oh the dearness of church and college work!—full three thousand pounds!” 68
An Act of Parliament, secured by the King as an endowment for the college, empowered the authorities to raise water from the Hackney Marshes to supply the City of London; but this was rendered useless by the success of Sir Hugh Middleton’s scheme for supplying London with water in the same year. The constitution of the college included a Provost and twenty Fellows, of whom eighteen were to be in Holy Orders. Dean Sutcliffe himself was the first Provost. In 1616 the building stopped altogether for want of funds.
The King issued a letter to the Archbishop of Canterbury exhorting him to stir up the clergy to incite the people to contribute. This had little effect. Probably collections then going on for repairs at St. Paul’s militated against it. Sutcliffe died in 1628, leaving to the College four farms in Devonshire, the benefit of an extent on Sir Lewis Stukeley’s estate, valued at between three and four thousand pounds, a share in the Great Neptune (a ship at Whitby), a tenement at Stoke Rivers, his books and goods in the College, and part of his library at Exeter, all subject to the proviso “that the work of the college be not hindered.”
In 1669 the King presented the buildings to the newly-incorporated Royal Society, but they were in such a ruinous condition that the society could make no use of them, and after thirteen 69 years resold the site to Sir Stephen Fox, for the use of the King. The buildings were then destroyed to make way for the present Royal Hospital.
THE ROYAL HOSPITAL.
The solid and yet harmonious building designed by Sir Christopher Wren is the nucleus of Chelsea. Indeed, the inhabitants locally call the hospital itself “Chelsea.” In all prints later than the end of the seventeenth century the central cupola rising above the two great wings forms a conspicuous landmark. In the days of William and Mary the gardens sloping down to the Thames were laid out in the stiff, formal Dutch style. Canals, in the shape of a capital L, with the foot reaching to the river, intersected prim gardens, and rows of little limes, pollarded like willows, edged the banks. It was only in 1852 that these canals were finally filled in, and the limes transplanted in the avenue bordering Ranelagh Gardens, where they still flourish. The Court favourite of Charles II., Nell Gwynne, whose name is strongly associated with Chelsea, is said to have suggested the idea of this home for aged and infirm soldiers. Evelyn evidently considers the merit to belong to Sir Stephen Fox, who certainly was a great benefactor. It has been 70 suggested that the latter persuaded the favourite to use her influence with the King, which seems probable. The idea, at all events, commended itself to Charles, who accordingly set about getting his subjects’ money to carry it out. He gave £6,787 odd from unsupplied secret service money. To this, Tobias Rustat, an under-keeper of the Royal Palace of Hampton Court, and yeoman of the robes to Charles II., described by Evelyn as “page of the back stairs, a very simple, ignorant, but honest and loyal creature,” contributed £1,000. However simple this man was, his simplicity manifested itself in a commendable direction. He is said to have given away his whole fortune in charity. It is to him we owe the statue of Charles II. in Roman dress which stands in the centre of the Hospital court. This statue is made of bronze, and there is a companion one of James II., a gift from the same benefactor, in Whitehall. Walpole attributes one of these to Grinling Gibbons, but which one is uncertain.
Sir Stephen Fox had been faithful to King Charles II. during his exile, and at the Restoration he received the reward of his services. He sat in the House of Commons from then until his death, twice representing Westminster. He was made Paymaster-General of the Forces and one of the Lords of the Treasury. He seems to have been an active-minded man, with considerable business 71 propensity. He devised a scheme for paying the troops out of his private purse, and levying a certain percentage on them for the convenience. As the pay of the army was much in arrears, and at all times irregular, this arrangement was thankfully accepted. The King saw in it the germ of an idea by which he might raise money for the Hospital. Accordingly, in 1683 he directed by letters of Privy Seal that one third of the money raised by imposing a poundage on the troops should go to the Hospital. He also added a clause to the effect that this was to be retrospective, to take effect from 1681. Hence the first haul amounted to over £20,000. Emboldened by success, Charles in the following year added to his demands one day’s pay from every man in the army.
But the building of the Hospital was more expensive than he had anticipated. It cost altogether £150,000, and when finished it would need an endowment. Charles had, therefore, recourse to the Stuart device of stirring up the people to give, by means of letters to the clergy, but without result, and in 1686 he directed that two-thirds of the army poundage should go to the continuance of the building, and finally that the whole should be devoted to this purpose after deductions for necessary expenses.
James II. carried on the design of his predecessor 72 during his short reign, but the building was not completed until 1694, under William and Mary. Sir Stephen Fox became chairman of the first Board of Commissioners, an office which has been ever since attached to the Paymaster-Generalship.
Some legacies have been bequeathed to the Hospital since the foundation, and various sums of unclaimed prize-money were also applied to this object, amounting in the aggregate to nearly £600,000. The income at present drawn from the above sources is a mere trifle in comparison with the expenditure, only amounting to little over £3,000 yearly.
The building—which is wonderfully well adapted for its object, being, in fact, a barracks, and yet a permanent home—was, when completed, just as it is at present, without the range of outbuildings in which are the Secretary’s offices, etc., and one or two outbuildings which were added in the beginning of the present century. The out-pensioners were not included in the original scheme, but when the building was ready for occupation, it was round that nearly one hundred applicants must be disappointed owing to want of room. These men received, accordingly, a small pension while waiting for vacancies. From this small beginning has sprung an immense army of out-pensioners in all parts of the world, including 73 natives who have served with the British flag, and the roll contains 84,500 names. The allowances vary from 5s. to 1½d. a day, the latter being paid to natives. The usual rate is about 1s. for a private, and 2s. 6d. for a sergeant. The in-pensioners, of whom 540 are at Chelsea and 150 at the sister hospital of Kilmainham in Ireland, receive sums varying from one shilling to a penny a day for tobacco money, and are “victualled, lodged, and clothed” in addition. They have rations of cocoa and bread-and-butter for breakfast; tea and bread-and-butter in the evening; mutton for dinner five days in the week, beef one day, and beef or bacon the remaining one. The allowance of meat is thirteen ounces, and the bread one pound, per diem. Besides this they have potatoes and pudding. They are clothed in dark blue in the winter, the coats being replaced by scarlet ones in the summer. Peaked caps are worn usually, and cocked hats with full dress. H. Herkomer’s picture “The Last Muster” is too well known to need more than a passing comment. The scene it represents is enacted every Sunday in the Hospital at Chelsea. Twenty thousand men have ended their days peacefully in the semi-military life which in their long service has become second nature to them, and 500,000 have passed through the list of out-pensioners.
The establishment is now kept up by annual 74 Parliamentary grants, of which the first vote, for £550, was passed in 1703. Up to 1873 sums varying from £50,000 to £100,000 were voted annually, but these were embodied with the army votes. Since that year the Hospital grants have been recorded separately. They amount to three and three-quarter millions, but part of this is repaid by the Indian Government in consideration of the men who have served in the Indian Army. In 1833 the levies from the poundage of the army ceased.
The annual expenditure of the Hospital now equals £1,800,000, and 98 per cent. of this goes to the out-pensioners. In 1894 the question was raised as to whether the money now supplied to the in-pensioners could not be better used in increasing the amount of the out-pensions. A committee was appointed to “inquire into the origin and circumstances attending the formation of Chelsea and Kilmainham, and whether their revenues could not be more advantageously used for the benefit of the army.” Numbers of the old soldiers themselves, as well as the Governor and all the Hospital officials, were examined. One or two of the old men seemed to imagine that they would prefer a few pence a day to spend as they pleased instead of shelter and food, but the majority were decisive in their opinion that on no attainable pension could they be so 75 comfortable as they were at present. Consequently the committee embodied their resolution in the following words: “That no amount of increased pension that it would be practicable to give would enable the men to be cared for outside the Hospital as they are cared for at present.”
The life led by the old men is peculiar, partaking as it does somewhat of a military character. The side-wings of the Hospital, built of red brick faced with stone, and darkened by age, are 360 feet in length and four stories in height. Each story contains one ward, which runs the whole length of the wing. The wide, shallow old staircase, the high doors, the wainscot, are all of oak coloured by age. The younger men and the least infirm occupy the highest wards, which look out upon the quadrangles by means of windows on the roof. Each ward contains about five-and-twenty men, including two sergeants, who have rather larger apartments than the rest, one at each end. An open space, like the between-decks of a ship, occupies half the longitudinal space, and the other half is partitioned off into separate cubicles containing a bed and a box, and these are open at the top and into the room. There is a large stove and one or two high-backed settles in each ward. Here the old fellows sit and smoke and warm up any food they have reserved from 76 the last meal. One or two have attempted to furnish their cubicles with pictures cut from the illustrated papers, but they do not seem to care much, as a rule, for anything but warmth and a pipe.
All the Waterloo veterans have died out, but Crimea and Indian Mutiny men there are in plenty. At each end of the wings are the staircases, which lead into passage halls. At the extreme end of the eastern wing is the Governor’s house, built in exactly the same style as the rest of the wing, and looking like part of it.
In the Governor’s house there is a magnificent state-room, 37 feet in length and 27 in width. It has the immense height of 27 feet, occupying two complete stories. The effect of height within the room is, however, diminished by a cornice which projects quite a foot all round, about two-thirds of the way up. The ceiling, which has been frequently alluded to by writers on Chelsea, but never fully described, has an immense oval in the centre, surrounding a circle of acorns and oak-leaves, from the middle of which the chandelier is suspended. On either side of this are two smaller circles, containing the letters G.R. and C.R. intertwined. The oval does not quite touch the walls of the room, and at either end there are the letters J.R., surrounded by a semicircular device of leaves, surmounted by a 77 crown. At each side of the oval are the national arms. In every one of the four corners is a wreath of roses, passion-flowers, and fruit in very heavy relief, and the interstices are filled by guns, arms, and accoutrements. The proportions of the room may be best understood by the statement that there are three windows at the end and four at the sides. The walls are all panelled and disfigured by hideous light pink paint, done, probably, in the same period of taste when an attempt was made to whitewash the statue of bronze in the court to make it look like marble! This disfigurement extends even to the magnificent trophy of arms and accoutrements carved round the great mirror over the mantelpiece, and, of course, supposed to be the work of the great Gibbons. The fireplace and mantelpiece are of white marble, with an inner setting of veined marble. The edges of many of the panels on the walls are also carved. The magnificent series of pictures give character and dignity to the room. Occupying almost two-thirds of the north end is an oil-painting of King Charles I. and his family, by Vandyck, in 1632. There is a mournful expression on all the faces, even those of the two small children in the front. On the east wall, on one side of the fireplace, are large oil-paintings of George III. and his consort, Caroline, by Allan Ramsay; and on the other a copy of Winterhalter’s 78 picture of Queen Victoria as Empress of India, by Hanson Walker, R.A.
Between the southern windows are portraits of King James II. and King Charles II., by Sir Godfrey Kneller and Sir Peter Lely respectively. As the windows are set very deeply in the walls, the light is bad, and these magnificent pictures are not seen to advantage. Occupying similar positions on the west are life-size portraits of George I., by Sir Godfrey Kneller; George II. and his consort, Caroline, by Enoch Seeman. Thus the fair, placid Caroline smiles down from the wall not many hundred yards from the house where she so often came to consult with the potent Sir Robert Walpole on the affairs of the nation and the liaisons of the King.
All the pictures in the room are the official property of successive Governors. The last three mentioned were bequeathed by William Evans in 1739. We can pass from this room through the vestibule, and along the wards, and thus reach the central wing, and pass under the colonnade into the hall beneath the cupola, without once going into the outer air. From this central hall open off the chapel and great hall on the east and west sides respectively. In this central hall it is possible to look right up into the hollow interior of the cupola at an immense height. Both hall and chapel are considerably raised above the 79 ground-level, and are reached by a flight of steps. They are of the same dimensions—108 feet by 37 feet—but, as the roof of the hall is flat, and that of the chapel hollowed out, the former looks much larger.
In the ‘History of the Diocese of London’ Newcourt gives the following quotation from the Bishop of London’s Registry: ‘The chappel of this Hospital (which is a very large and stately one, as is also the hall, which is of the same dimensions) is 108 feet long, and 37 feet and 9 inches wide ... consecrated by the Right Reverend Father in God, Henry, Lord Bishop of London, on Sunday, August 30, 1691.’ The prelate here referred to was Bishop Compton.
The chapel is paved with black and white marble, and all the fittings and wainscoting are of oak. The altar-rails and the side of the wainscot compartments are carved by Grinling Gibbons. Over the altar is an immense painting, made to fit the apse-like end. It represents the Resurrection, and was executed by Sebastian Ricci. The altar itself is heavy and ugly—a great oak canopy supported by Corinthian columns in oak. The feature of the chapel is, however, the number of standards which are suspended from either wall all down the nave. The greater number were transferred here from the Chapel Royal, Whitehall, and India House, by order of King William IV., 80 in 1835. Captain J. Ford, to whose laborious and painstaking work is due the record of the tombstones in the old burial-ground, made also a list of these flags, and drawings of those recognisable. This collection was purchased by Queen Victoria, who caused it to be made into a book, and presented it to the Hospital, adding an autograph inscription. The flags are chiefly American and French. There are also several French eagles and some native Indian flags. On the latter the mark of a hand, supposed by the natives to be the impress of their chief’s hand, recorded by supernatural agency, can be clearly seen. Every Sunday all the veterans who are not disabled by ill-health or infirmity take their places in the body of the chapel, almost filling it. Visitors and the Hospital officials sit in transverse pews of an old-fashioned shape, which run down the sides of the walls. The organ, presented by Major Ingram in 1691-92, is in a gallery at the west end, and immediately beneath the gallery on the right-hand side is the Governor’s pew.
The Chaplain is the Rev. J. H. S. Moxley. The service is short and simple, and at its conclusion the old men all march out together before the visitors leave. The service of plate presented by James II. is valued at £500. It includes three flagons, four chalices, six salvers, and a pair of candlesticks, all of silver-gilt. After service dinner 81 is the order of the day, and a visit to the kitchens, fitted with all the latest modern improvements, is necessary. It does not seem as if the regimen were very strictly adhered to. Great savoury pies of mutton and kidney, roast sirloin, and roast pork, with baked potatoes, are allotted to the various messes, to be followed by steaming plum-puddings.
The men do not dine in hall, as they used to do, but those who are on orderly duty wait there to receive the rations, and then carry them up to their comrades in the wards to be divided. The messes vary in number; some contain eight, some ten, some even fourteen. On either side of the central gangway in the hall are tables where the old men can sit and smoke, and play dominoes, cards, and bagatelle. There is a raised daïs at the western end, in the centre of which, facing the door, is a bust of Queen Victoria, and right across the end of the room, and continuing for the width of the daïs, on the sides is an immense allegorical painting of Charles II., with the Hospital in the background. This was executed by Antonio Verrio and Henry Cooke. All round the panels of the hall hang portraits of military commanders, with the dates and names of the battles in which they have taken prominent parts. These were collected by a former Governor of the Hospital, General Sir J. L. Pennefather, G.C.B. Above them are 82 other standards tattered beyond recognition and hanging mournfully over the heads of the men below. At the east end is a large painting of the Duke of Wellington in allegorical style. The court-martial on the conduct of General Whitelock was held in this hall; here the Duke of Wellington lay in state for seven days from the 10th to the 17th of November, 1852; and several courts of inquiry have been held. For some years it was used as a place of examination for military candidates, but this was rightly considered to be an abuse, and was discontinued in 1869. Formerly a dining-room, the hall is now a recreation-room, and must be a great boon to those whose wards lie up four flights of stairs.
Passing down the steps, through the vestibule, and under the colonnade on the south front, we see two monuments to the men of the Birkenhead and the Europa. The loss of the former in 1852 has often been quoted as an heroic instance of self-command; when the ship struck, the men went down standing shoulder to shoulder as if on parade. Their names are all inscribed here. The Europa was burnt at sea, and the twelve private soldiers who lost their lives with it are here also commemorated. There are other memorials, brasses, and a marble slab, to the memory of various officers. But the most striking monument, in the centre of the grounds, near the Embankment 83 gate, is that of the Battle of Chillianwallah, at which nearly 30 officers and more than 700 privates were killed. The monument takes the form of a great obelisk, with the names inscribed on the sides. Two of the guns which stand beside it were captured on the same occasion. A little higher up, between the bronze Charles and the Chillianwallah obelisk, is a cross to commemorate 243 officers and privates who were killed in suppressing the Sepoy Mutiny. The veterans are thus surrounded by a halo of gallant deeds; on every hand the memory of their comrades in arms greets them.
Further on down the colonnade we pass westward, through the west wing, to a continuation of the main building, in which is the library. This faces the next court, which, like the east, is filled in the centre with evergreen shrubs. The library contains 4,000 volumes, including Captain Ford’s Manuscripts. There are two rooms, and here the men can see the daily papers, which are afterwards passed on into the great hall. In the west court is the Chaplain’s house, and immediately across the road is the infirmary. In 1808 it was suggested that an infirmary for the pensioners should be established, and for this purpose the Commissioners fixed upon Sir Robert Walpole’s old house, which was conveniently near. The land on which this stands was leased to William Jephson in 1687 for 84 sixty-one years. Some years later the lease was passed on to Edward Harley, Earl of Oxford, who lived here in 1707. Apparently he assigned it to Sir Richard Gough, who paid the rent from 1714 to 1719. In 1723 Sir Robert Walpole, the great statesman who virtually ruled England for more than twenty years, became the lessee. He had had some connection with the Hospital since 1714, when he had been made Paymaster-General, and had held a seat on the Board of Commissioners by virtue of his office. His influence in the reign of George II. still continued, and while the King was absent on the Continent, Walpole House was the seat of power in the kingdom. Here came office-seekers and busy flatterers. L’Estrange says “it was thought remarkably convenient that state documents should only have to travel from Chelsea to Kensington Palace.”
The grottos, which, according to the fashion of the time, were built in the garden, and richly decorated, must have seen some interesting sights. One in which Queen Caroline was royally entertained in 1729 was taken down in 1795. The entertainment was extremely sumptuous. The last of these grottos disappeared only when the Embankment was being made. In 1741 the Minister retired with the title of Earl of Orford, which afterwards descended to his well-known son, Horace, and a pension of £4,000 a year. 85
The house afterwards passed through the hands of John, Earl of Dunmore, and George Aufrere, and we find it in 1796 assigned to Charles, Lord Yarborough, who was living here in 1808. The building being then required by the Hospital, he consented to give up the remainder of his lease, a period of seventeen years, upon compensation being paid to the amount of £4,775 15s. Sir John Soane, the architect, who had all through been strongly in favour of adding on to Walpole House instead of purchasing new ground, designed the necessary additions. The building, like the Hospital itself, consists of two wings, east and west, abutting out from a connecting flank, with a vestibule in the front. The eastern wing is Walpole House. The room which was originally the dining-room is now one of the wards, and contains eight beds. It is strange to see the worn, homely faces of the infirm pensioners, in contrast with the magnificent white marble mantelpiece and the finely moulded ceiling. The connecting wing holds the Matron’s room in addition to the wards. The patients suffer from the complaints of old age, rheumatism, blindness, paralysis; few of them are permanently in the infirmary, and with the season of the year the numbers vary. In the summer it is found possible to close one ward entirely. There is a staff of nurses, and the old men are well looked after. Besides Walpole House, it was considered 86 advisable to have a supplementary infirmary. So when the lease of Gordon House fell in, it was adapted for the purpose. It stands in the southwest corner of the grounds, about 150 yards from the infirmary, and will be familiar to those who visited the Military and Naval Exhibitions, at which period it was used as a refreshment-house. The first recorded lease of the land on which it was built was in 1690.
The charity is directed by Royal Commissioners, who include representatives of the War Office, Horse Guards, Treasury, and the Hospital itself, through its Governor and Lieutenant-Governor.
The Governor is Sir Henry Norman. The officers who reside at the Hospital, under the authority of the Governor, are: Mayor and Lieutenant-Governor; six Captains of Invalids; Adjutant; Quartermaster; Chaplain; Physician and Surgeon; Deputy Surgeon.
Besides these there is a large staff, including Matron, Dispenser, Organist, etc. The pensioners themselves are formed into six companies, and their pension varies according to their rank, from the colour-sergeants at a shilling a day to privates of the third rank at a penny. The grounds of the Hospital were originally only twenty-eight acres, but have been added to by purchase from time to time; they now amount to between sixty and 87 seventy. A portion in the south-western corner was let on building leases not long ago.
The large open space exactly opposite to the Hospital, on the north side of the Queen’s Road, is known as Burton’s Court. How it came by the name is a matter of doubt. In Hamilton’s Survey it is called College Court. Lysons refers to it as follows: “To the north of the college is an enclosure of about thirteen acres, planted with avenues of limes and horse-chestnuts.” Its dimensions have since been reduced by the land given up to the parish for road-making. In 1888 it was decided to allow the soldiers quartered at the adjacent barracks to use it as a recreation-ground. Through the centre of it runs an avenue of trees in direct continuation from the Hospital gates. This opens on to St. Leonard’s Terrace in two fine iron gates with stone pillars, surmounted by military arms in stone. Beyond these gates, still in the same straight line, runs the Royal Avenue, formerly known as White Stiles. It is mentioned very early in the Hospital records, payments for masonry and carpentry work being noted in 1692. Faulkner repeats a tradition to the effect that Queen Anne intended to have extended this avenue right through to the gates of the palace at Kensington, and was only prevented from carrying it out by her death. At present the avenue 88 intersected by Queen’s Road and St. Leonard’s Terrace is disjointed and purposeless.
RANELAGH GARDENS.
The site of Ranelagh Gardens, which in their zenith eclipsed even the Vauxhall Gardens as a place of entertainment, is now included in the grounds of the Royal Hospital.
Richard, Earl of Ranelagh, Paymaster-General of the Forces in the reign of James II., was a thoroughly unscrupulous but an able man. He was three times censured for appropriating the public money to his own private use, and was finally expelled from his office in the fourth year of Queen Anne’s reign. Notwithstanding this, he obtained a grant of some land belonging to the Royal Hospital in 1690, when the building was nearly completed. This land lay to the south of the burial-ground, and between the Hospital and what is now known as Bridge Road. This was leased to him for sixty-one years at an annual rent of £15 7s. 6d. He built a house on it, and soon after obtained fifteen acres more at £30 4s. per annum, and finally a third grant, which in 1698 was confirmed to him with that portion he already held, to be held in fee on condition of his paying an annual rent of £5 to the Hospital. This Earl, described by Swift as the “vainest old fool I 89 ever saw,” seems to have had great delight in landscape-gardening. He laid out his land with fastidious care, and thus paved the way for the public gardens of the future. His grounds are described in “Views of the Gardens near London, December, 1691,” by Gibson:
“My Lord Ranelagh’s garden being but lately made, plants are but small; but the plats, borders, and walks are curiously kept and elegantly designed, having the advantage of opening into Chelsea College walks. The kitchen-garden there lies very fine, with walks and seats, one of which being large and covered was then under the hands of a curious painter. The house here is very fine within, all the rooms being wainscoted with Norway oak, and all the chimneys adorned with carving, as in the Council Chamber in Chelsea College.”
Lord Ranelagh died in 1712, and with him the earldom became extinct. The Ranelagh property passed to his unmarried daughter, Lady Catherine Jones. In 1715 King George I. was entertained by her at Ranelagh House, together with a great number of lords and ladies. In 1730 the property was vested in trustees by an Act of Parliament; the greater part of it was bought by Swift and Timbrell, who afterwards leased it to Lacey, the patentee of Drury Lane Theatre. They proposed to turn it into a place of public amusement, but soon abandoned 90 the idea, and relet it. In 1744 one Crispe, who then held the lease, became bankrupt, and the property was divided into thirty-six shares of £1,000 each.
It was in the time of Crispe that the great rotunda was built. This rotunda was 150 feet in interior diameter, and was intended to be an imitation of the Pantheon at Rome. The pillars which supported the roof were of great magnificence, painted for half their height like marble, and the second half fluted and painted white; they were crowned by capitals of plaster of Paris. The orchestra was at first in the centre, but was afterwards removed to one of the porticos, and the centre was used for a fireplace, which, if the old prints are to be trusted, was large enough to roast half a score of people at once. We have “A Perspective View of the Inside of the Amphitheatre in Ranelagh Gardens,” drawn by W. Newland, and engraved by Walker, 1761; also “Eight Large Views of Ranelagh and Vauxhall Gardens,” by Canaletti and Hooker, 1751. The roof of this immense building was covered with slate, and projected all round beyond the walls. There were no less that sixty windows. Round the rotunda inside were rows of boxes in which the visitors could have refreshments. The ceiling was decorated with oval panels having painted figures on a sky-blue ground, and the whole was lighted by twenty-eight 91 chandeliers descending from the roof in a double circle. The place was opened on April 5, 1742, when the people went to public breakfasts, which, according to Walpole, cost eighteenpence a head. The gardens were not open until more than a month later. The entertainments were at first chiefly concerts and oratorios, but afterwards magnificent balls and fêtes were held.
Walpole, writing to Sir Francis Mann, says: “Two nights ago Ranelagh Gardens were opened at Chelsea. The Prince, Princess, Duke, and much nobility, and much mob besides, were there. There is a vast amphitheatre, finely gilt, painted, and illuminated, into which everybody that loves eating, drinking, staring, or crowding, is admitted for 12d. The building and disposition of the gardens cost £16,000. Twice a week there are to be ridottos at guinea tickets, for which you are to have a supper and music. I was there last night, but did not find the joy of it. Vauxhall is a little better, for the garden is pleasanter and one goes by water.” The doors were opened in the evening at six, and until the time of the entertainment, some hours later, people seem to have had nothing better to do than to walk round and stare at each other—a method of passing the time described by the poet Bloomfield, in a poem which has been often quoted in fragments but seldom in entirety. It appeared in The 92 Ambulator (London and its Environs) in 1811, at full length, as follows: