grounds have been known in the parish books, under the title of the Vineyard, ever since the time of William the Conqueror. Wine, described as a sort of Burgundy, was actually made and sold in them, as late as the middle of last century. Wine was formerly made in many parts of England, probably in no great quantity. It naturally gave way to drinks more congenial to the soil. The right, popular wine of countries which do not produce wine of the best quality, is that which free trade ought to bring them (and will bring them) from those which do. Another interesting circumstance connected with this spot, is, that it has been in the hands of the respectable family that occupies it, for three generations. The founder of it, James Lee, author of one of the earliest popular systems of Botany, was a correspondent of Linnæus. In order to avoid the dullness of retracing our steps, we go a little beyond the bounds of the parish, and turning north and westward through pleasant Brook Green, and no less poetically-named Shepherd's Bush, return to it, and ascend Notting (originally, perhaps, Nutting) Hill. By this we arrive at Kensington Gravel-pits, which is a kind of second Kensington High Street, being to the northern boundary line of the suburb, in the Uxbridge Road, what the High Street, commonly so called, is to Kensington Proper, the road to Hammersmith. Since the disappearance of the actual Gravel-pits, their name seems to have been superseded, of late years, by the joint influence of the new streets on Notting Hill and in Bayswater, all this portion of Kensington to the west of the turnpike being now addressed, we believe, post-officially, as Notting Hill; and all of it, to the east of the turnpike, being understood, in like manner, to belong to Bayswater. We regret the loss of the old name, for many reasons. The district called the Gravelpits, or at least so called in books, and in directions of letters, appears, on a rough calculation, to have comprehended all the north and north-western side of Kensington, lying between Notting Hill, Bayswater, Holland House, the Church, and the Palace. Readers may call to mind a remnant of one of the pits, existing but a few years ago, to the north of the Palace in Kensington Gardens, and adding greatly to their picturesque look thereabouts. A pleasant poetical tradition was connected with it, of which we shall have something farther to say. Now, the Gravel-pits were the fashionable suburb resort of invalids, from the times of William and Anne to the close of the last century. Their "country air," as it was called, seems to have been preferred, not only to Essex, but to Kent. Garth, in his "Dispensary," makes an apothecary say, that sooner than a change shall take place, from making the poor pay for medicine, to giving it them gratis, Alps shall sink to vales, And leeches in our glasses turn to whales, Swift had lodgings in the Gravel-pits during the winters of 1712 and 1713; and Lord Chatham's sister, Anne Pitt (as like him, says Horace Walpole, " as two drops of fire") is recorded to have died at "her house, in Pitt Place, Kensington Gravel-pits," in 1780. In the pleasant little corner entitled the Mall (why so called we know not, probably from its having been a more open place formerly, and frequented by players of the game so called) lived and died, not long since, the admired painter of our cold northern skies and sea-coasts, Sir Augustus Callcott; whose death was followed, in the same place, by that of his wife, previously known as Mrs. Graham (an estimable writer of travels and history). It had been preceded, some years, also, in the same place, by that of his brother, William Callcott, a learned and interesting musician, celebrated for his composition of glees. He was author of the pathetic composition, "It was a Friar of Orders Grey;" and is understood to have been the ruin of Sir John Hawkins's "History of Music," by no greater weapon than a musical pun; having expressed, in a catch on |