Part 12

Twenty carriages were devoted to the Members of Parliament, Members of the Metropolitan Board and the Officials the twentieth containing Sir James M'Garel Hogg and some ladies and following this came the three Royal carriages. The route being kept clear of traffic and the spectators massed in lines along side by the police--some 1600 were on duty--the arrangements south side of the bridges being in charge of Captain Braynes, while on the north side Colonel Pearson had the directions. His Royal Highness proceeded by way of the Albert Embankment to Vauxhall Bridge, the approach to which was exceedingly picturesque the banks of the Thames fluttering with flags, and the river crowded with boats that followed the _cortège_. The procession crossed and re-crossed Chelsea Suspension Bridge. In the London, Brighton and South-Coast Railway West-end Goods Traffic Yard a Royal salute was given on the arrival of the Prince by the crushing weight of a locomotive named Rennes, No. 130, passing over twenty-one fog signals, an arrangement previously made by Mr. J. Richardson, the effect of which gave general satisfaction. The west side of the Victoria Railway Bridge which spans the Thames was elegantly decorated from one end to the other by the London, Brighton and South-Coast Railway Company. Festoons and tri-coloured flags representing the colours used for signals on railways were voluntarily displayed in such profusion by Messrs. J. Richardson and Everest as to render the scene quite imposing. In front of Chelsea Hospital were drawn up two hundred warriors of olden times, pensioners in their beaver cocked hats who knowing more about "Brown Bess than the Martini rifle managed to do a salute with tolerable precision." The people assembled in Battersea Park made a rush for Albert Bridge as the procession approached that graceful structure. The Albert Bridge Company was represented by Mr. Ewing Matheson, the Chairman; Mr. Youngman, Manager; Mr. A. C. Harper, Secretary, and Mr. Frederick Stanley, Solicitor. (The Countess of Cadogan presented the Princess of Wales and the Duchess of Edinburgh with handsome bouquets on behalf of the ladies of Chelsea. Button holes of a very choice nature were also presented to the Prince of Wales and the Duke.) Mr. Kingsbury, Chairman of the Chelsea Vestry, had the honour of presenting a silver medal commemorative of the occasion to the Prince of Wales which was graciously accepted. At the north side of the bridge were drawn up the boys of the Duke of York Asylum; at the south side the children of the local schools, all singing with as much gusto as their little lungs would allow "God bless the Prince of Wales." The Pier Hotel and the houses facing the Albert Bridge were gaily and handsomely decorated with flags of all nations, and the balconies at the corner of Cheyne Walk being filled with ladies arrayed in summer toilets, thus lending an additional charm to the _mise en scène_. The military display consisted of guards of honour from the 1st Middlesex Engineer Volunteers and the 2nd (South) Middlesex Rifle Volunteers. The keys of the Albert Bridge were handed over on behalf of the Company by Messrs. Matheson and Stanley and a device swung across the bridge denoting that the latter was "free for ever." On the Chelsea side Mr. Stayton was the designer of the festivities. Passing along the Surrey side of the river the Prince made for Old Battersea Bridge the last of the five to be opened. Here the Surrey Volunteers and the Surrey Artillery mustered in force, and a Salvo of Artillery from the Citizen Steamboat Company announced that the bridge was free. At the approach to the Bridge in Bridge Road stands of evergreens were most tastefully arranged by the employés of Messrs. H. and G. Neal the well-known Nurserymen of Wandsworth Common. At no point in the line of route were greater demonstrations of joy expressed and loyalty manifested than by the Battersea people.

The Royal party returned to Marlborough House---the other carriages then went to Chelsea Vestry Hall where a banquet was served, and at night there was a display of fireworks at Battersea Park supplied by the Crystal Palace Pyrotechnists, T. Brock & Co., the expense being borne by Earl Cadogan to wind up the eventful day's proceedings.

At the foot of Chelsea Suspension Bridge a board is erected on which is written the following: _Notice, Metropolitan Board of Works. No Traction Engine, Steam Roller, or any load exceeding_ 5 _tons on each pair of wheels, must be taken over this bridge. By order of J. E. Wakefield, Clerk to the Board, May,_ 1879.

Shortly after the freeing of the bridges the "bars" were removed, and the old toll house at the foot of Battersea Bridge entirely demolished.

The stupendous Railway Bridge across the Thames at Battersea from Battersea Park Railway Pier to Grosvenor Road Station is said to be _the Widest Railway Bridge in the World_. It consists of four arches each one hundred and seventy-five feet span in the clear, with a rise of seventeen feet six inches. The immense ribs which support the superstructure are formed throughout of wrought iron, and are firmly attached to massive cast-iron standards which are placed over the piers; the whole of the frame-work is thus made continuous throughout. On each side of the river is a land arch of seventy feet span, making the entire length of the bridge eight hundred and forty feet. The abutments were put in by means of coffer-dams, and the foundations are carried down thirty feet below Trinity high-water mark. The piers are built upon the same principle as that which was first applied by the late Charles Fox to the building of the Bridge at Rochester, Charing Cross, and Cannon Street, Railway Bridges. The bridge was first erected by Mr. J. Fowler. In 1865-6 it was enlarged by the late Sir Charles Fox.

Some antiquarians have stated that about fifty yards westward of Chelsea Suspension Bridge, Cæsar and his legions crossed the river Thames by a ford when in pursuit of the Britons who were retreating from the Romans. The ford is described at low water as a shoal of gravel not more than three feet deep, sufficient for ten men to walk abreast, except on the Surrey side where it has been deepened by raising ballast, and the causeway from the South bank may yet be traced at low water. Others think that the place of crossing was higher up the river, either at Chertsey or Kingston; the latter was anciently called Moreford, or the Great Ford. However, landing at Deal, it is natural the Romans would cross the river at some ford nearest that point.[1]

[Footnote 1: The distance of Chertsey (Surrey) from London is about nineteen miles. Here, says Camden, Julius Cæsar crossed the Thames when he first attempted the conquest of Britain; but Mr. Gough, in his addition to the "Britannia," has advanced some arguments against this opinion. The passage some believe to have been effected at Coway Stakes, about a quarter of a mile below Chertsey Bridge, where Julius Cæsar crossed the Thames when he led the Roman army into the kingdom of Cassivellaunus, who had encamped his forces on the opposite shore. The Britons did everything in their power to prevent the Romans from crossing by driving stakes into the bed of the river and fencing the banks with wooden palisades. Obstacles of this kind were lightly estimated by the bold legionaries. The cavalry at once entered the river; the infantry crossed with their heads only above water, and panic-struck at the sight of Roman intrepidity, the barbarian warriors fled from their post without an effort to maintain it. Bede, who lived in the beginning of the eighth century, tells us, that some of the stakes were then to be seen, and were as big as a man's thigh. Mr. Milner says some of these stakes have been found at a recent period, hard as ebony, each being the body of a young oak tree.]

We would suggest that the next Monolith brought to this country from the land of the Ptolemys or Cæsars be erected on this spot, similar to that of Cleopatra's Needle on the Victoria Embankment.

Watermen and others who navigate the river have observed how very shallow the water is at this spot. Sir Richard Phillips says "the event was pregnant with such consequences to the fortune of these Islands, that the spot deserves the record of a monument; which ought to be preserved from age to age, as long as the veneration due to antiquity is cherished among us. Who could then have contemplated that the folly of Roman ambition would be the means of introducing arts among the semi-barbarous Britons, which in eighteen hundred and forty years or after the lapse of nearly sixty generations, would qualify Britain to become mistress of Imperial Rome; while one country would become as exalted, and the other be so debased, that the event would excite little attention, and be deemed but of secondary importance? Possibly after another sixty generations, the posterity of the savage tribes near Sierra-Leone, or New Holland may arbitrate the fate of London, or of Britain, as an affair of equal indifference."[1]

[Footnote 1: "A Morning's Walk from London to Kew," by Sir Richard Phillips, pp. 26-27, published 1817.]

We shall not attempt to speculate as to what is within the range of human possibilities knowing as all history teaches us how transient is the glory of sublunary things. We believe that while England is true to herself and true to God such a state of things concerning Britain as that depicted by Sir Richard will never be realised. The overthrow of dynasties, of nations and of empires is the result of moral degeneracy--the effect of national and individual sins. "Righteousness exalteth a nation but sin is a reproach to any people. By the Almighty who doeth according to His will in the armies of heaven and among the inhabitants of the earth, kings reign and princes decree justice, He putteth down one and setteth up another." However, while reading the fore-mentioned quotation we were forcibly reminded of Macaulay's New Zealander sitting upon a broken arch of London Bridge contemplating o'er the desolation of England's chief city, or some other traveller from the Antipodes who shall stand on the broken arches of Westminster Bridge, and gazing on a horizon of ruin, cry "Here stood the Metropolis of a Mighty Empire!"

Many years ago a person wrote a note to the Rev. John Brand, Secretary to the Antiquarian Society, to say that as he was passing through Battersea Fields he saw some labourers dig up a leaden coffin, in which was a skeleton and near it there were three more human skeletons. There is no date but it is addressed to Mr. Brand, at Northumberland House, which he left about 1795.

About sixty-five years ago there was a house situated in the middle of Battersea Fields which remained for a long time uninhabited on account of the strange and weird stories related and circulated about it. Ignorant and uneducated people said it was "haunted." Nobody would live in it. At midnight "lights" it was said were to be seen "flitting about the rooms," and "dismal groans of one in extremes, at the point to die" were to be heard, and so many believed in "old bogies" and tales of "hobgoblins" so their minds pictured the most frightful and hideous spectres imaginable. At length the house like other old buildings in the neighbourhood was demolished. The Rev. John Kirk, who wrote a Biography of the Mother of the Wesleys, says: "The legendary literature of the world teems with wonderful stories of haunted houses where invisible spirits were believed to utter mysterious sounds, to perform extraordinary pranks, and sometimes communicate revelations of the future, or disclose the dread secrets of the hidden world. These beliefs though strongest and most prevalent where the Gospel is unknown or least influential, are not peculiar to generations 'of old time' or to any particular nation under heaven." Certainly the present generation do not appear to have improved much more than their forefathers in this respect when there is so much nonsensical talk about communicating with the invisible world by means of "spirit rappings," "table turnings," etc. Surely the age when men shall give heed to seducing spirits and doctrines of demons has come!

Battersea Fields, within the Manor along the Thames, were long notable as a marshy tract producing a great variety of indigenous plants; and were the scene on March 21st, 1829, of the duel between the Duke of Wellington and Lord Winchelsea.[1] Battersea Fields were reputed as a place for duelling and prize-fights but are now partly disposed in a fine Public Park, and partly covered with streets and buildings. A lane from Nine Elms past Tuggy's Mill and Rock's Tea Gardens, by the poplar trees led to the Red House which faced the river near the foot of the South side of Chelsea Suspension Bridge since erected. Here in front was a tall flag-staff with flag waving in the breeze on which were letters denoting the sign of the house. Seats and ale-benches, embowered with clusters of elm trees with wide-spreading branches overhead, were placed for the accommodation of persons who resorted thither for refreshment. The space here embanked and enclosed with an iron palisade formed a kind of jetty, divided in the centre by a flight of steps from the river as well as having a flight of steps at both ends where watermen landed their passengers or took up their fares. There was a ferry here to the "White House" on the opposite side of the Thames. The "Red House" was built of red bricks with white pointings, wide but not high in elevation. It had one story above the basement with slanted slated roof, and contained in all fourteen rooms. Each of the windows on the ground-floor had wooden shutters hung on hinges painted green, which, when closed or folded, fastened inside with bolts. The windows did not project from the general face of the building except the refreshment bar and the upstairs dining room. This apartment and the long room adjoining commanded an extensive and pleasant prospect of the river. A large lamp, supported by means of an iron branch fastened to the wall, projected over the middle door. The Royal Humane Society's drags were always kept here in readiness in case of emergency, and notice was written on a board suspended outside the west end of the house to that effect. The gardens were laid out in small arbours decorated with Flemish and other paintings and fancifully formed flower-beds. In the centre of the garden was a fish-pond; the walks were prettily disposed; at the end of the principal one was a painting, the perspective rendered the walk in appearance much longer than it really was. The shooting ground was about 120 yards square, and inclosed by palings. Beyond the east end of the house was situated a range of "boxes" or alcoves--seven in number--which at night were illuminated with oil-lamps. Each "box" had a table in the centre with seats all round so that twelve persons could sit inside very comfortably. Of a morning several of the Guards were in the habit of arriving here by water from Whitehall stairs to enjoy their "Flounder breakfast" at ten o'clock. And certain noblemen dignified with their presence and patronage the annual "Sucking Pig Dinner," which generally took place in the month of August.

[Footnote 1: The Roman Catholic Emancipation Bill passed the Commons by a majority of 320 to 142, March 30, and was carried on the third reading in the Lords by 313 to 104, April 10. The Bill met with determined opposition from the Marquis of Winchelsea who said some things which the Duke regarded as a personal insult. This led to the hostile meeting at Battersea Fields. It was fashionable in those days for gentlemen to settle their friendly differences with a yard of cold steel or a bullet from the muzzle of a pistol--happily as the result of this duel no blood was shed--the Duke with a directed aim sent a bullet through the hat of Winchelsea, whereupon the Marquis fired his pistol in the air, advanced towards the Duke and made an apology, the Duke of Wellington politely bowed to his political antagonist and then separated. Wellington Road, near Battersea Bridge, marks the locality and derives its name from this circumstance.]

Mr. Wright, who at one time was proprietor of the "Red House," had a Raven that he called "Gyp" that used to talk. Sometimes as if hailing a waterman from the river the bird would cry out "boat ahoy!" "What's o'clock? what's o'clock?" it would hurriedly repeat as if anxious to know the hour. At another time "Gyp" would call "Rock! over!" "Over!" as if to intimate that somebody requested to be ferried over to the other side. Many a scull has been deceived by the mimic cries of this black-feathered rascal. One day Rock the ferryman was so irritated, having been twice deceived that day by the call of "Gyp," that he took up a quart pewter pot and threw it at his head. "Gyp" narrowly escaped uninjured. Mr. Wright remonstrated and said he would not have the bird hurt at any price. The raven was deliciously fond of picking bones. On one occasion a gentleman accidentally dropped his spectacles; presently, on looking up, he discovered his lost property in the beak of the raven perched on a bough with all the gravity of a sexton. "Gyp" had an incurable antipathy to dogs. If perchance a dog passed by, in an instant he would pounce upon its back, hold on by his claws and peck at it most unmercifully, while the dog thus attacked ran away yelping and howling. When dislodged, "Gyp's" pinions bore him swiftly away from the reach of the teeth of his canine adversary. "Gyp" was of a jealous disposition and did not like to see other birds petted. He has been known to kill a magpie and a raven. It was dangerous to put money down in the presence of "Gyp" for "Gyp" had the propensity of picking it up and of flying away with it. On one occasion he seized a sovereign which a customer put down. As "Gyp" had several hiding places where he deposited "stolen articles," as spoons, knives, forks, etc., diligent search was made but the valuable coin was never discovered. The last account we heard of "Gyp" was that he was taken down to Shropshire and that the poor bird died. Mr. W. Puttick, to whom we are indebted for some curious pieces of information, says, "One of the notabilities at the Red House beside the Raven whose bites I have often experienced was a half-witted man who went by the name of 'Billy' the nutman. He used to carry a bag of nuts and a dial, people paid a penny and turned a hand and had nuts for their money. I have often seen this man stand in the water and let the pigeon shooters shoot at him for a few pence, his gesticulations and grotesque movements at the same time exciting from the spectators shouts and roars of laughter."

Mr. Wright took the house of Mr. Swaine, but after Mr. Wright left, the house was taken by a man of the name of Ireland.

James Rock, a respectable ferryman and lighterman, whose house was hard by, was accidentally drowned in the river Thames, August, 1874. His son, George Rock, is now Pier-master at Battersea Park Railway Pier.

The "Red House" was famed for aquatic sports. Adjoining the premises were grounds for pigeon and sparrow-shooting, and the performance of athletic feats. Pigeons were there sold to be shot at, at 15s. per dozen; starlings at 4s., and sparrows at 2s. The place attained a notoriety not surpassed by the number of excursionists who in summer visit Rye House. Subsequently the Red House with its shooting ground and adjacent premises was purchased by the Government for £10,000.

"The Old House at Home" was a small thatched hut, kept by Farmer Hall, where beer was sold direct from the cask, to be drunken on the premises. It answered the six-fold purpose of shop, dormitory, fowl-house, pig-sty, stable and cow-shed. Within this hovel were gathered pigs, fowls, cats, dogs, singing-birds, ducks, cows, horses and donkeys, which, together with the landlord and his customers who regaled themselves here, constituted a "happy family!" This was a famous place for "egg flip," which consisted of new-laid eggs taken from the hens' nests, beat up in hot ale or porter, sweetened with sugar, and sold to persons who preferred roaming about at mid-night or in the small hours of the morning.