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"Chelsea Farm as her country residence. The edifice, which was built of brick, overlooked the river, from which it was separated by a lawn, pleasantly shaded by stately trees. The house had a somewhat irregular appearance externally, and little to boast of in the way of architecture; but the interior was commodious, and the best suite of rooms well adapted to the use of a distinguished family. Here was a small but judicious collection of pictures, formed by Viscount Cremorne, among which were some by noted Flemish and Italian

masters.

Lindsey Row and Lindsey Place, facing the river immediately westward of Battersea Bridge, mark the site of Lindsey House, the residence of the Berties, Earls of Lindsey. About the middle of the last century the mansion was purchased by Count Zinzendorf, a leader of the peculiar sect known as Moravians, for the purpose of establishing a settlement of that society in Chelsea; but the project failed; the building was again sold, and subsequently demolished, or cut up into private

tenements.

In a small house in Chelsea, rented from Lord Cheyne, died, in difficulties, the beautiful Duchess of Mazarine, one of the frail beauties of the Court of Charles II.

In Lyson's "Environs," we read that about the year 1722 Sir Robert Walpole, the well-known prime minister of George II., "became possessed of a house and garden in the stable-yard at Chelsea." The house was "next the college," adjoining Gough House. Sir Robert frequently resided there, improved and added to the house, and considerably enlarged the gardens by a purchase of some land from the Gough family; he erected an octagonal summer-house at the head of the terrace, and a large green-house, where he had a fine collection of exotics. A good story is told about Queen Caroline, when dining one day here with Lady Walpole. Sir Paul Methuen, who was one of the company, was remarkable for his love of romances. The queen asked him what he had been reading of late in his own way. "Nothing, madam," said Sir Paul; "I have now commenced, instead of romances, a very foolish study, 'The History of the Kings and Queens of England.'" Horace Walpole informs us that he remembered La Belle Jennings (afterwards Duchess of Marlborough) coming to his parents' house to solicit a pension.

Shrewsbury House, or, as it was sometimes called, Alston House, in Cheyne Walk, near the waterside, if we may trust Priscilla Wakefield's "Perambulations in London," was a paper manu

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factory at the time of its demolition in 1814. It was an irregular brick building, forming three sides of a quadrangle. The principal room was upwards of 100 feet long, and was originally wainscoted with carved oak. One of the rooms was painted in imitation of marble, and others were ornamented with certain "curious portraits on panel." Leading from the premises towards the King's Road was a subterranean passage, which is traditionally said to have communicated with a cave, or dungeon, situated at some distance from the house.

Winchester House, the Palace of the Bishops of Winchester from about the middle of the seventeenth down to the commencement of the present century, stood on the spot now occupied by the Pier Hotel, and its gardens adjoined Shrewsbury House. It was a heavy brick building, of low proportions, and quite devoid of any architectural ornament. The interior was fairly commodious, and "much enriched by the collection of antiques and specimens of natural history" placed there by Bishop North, the last prelate who occupied it. Bishop Hoadley, who died here in 1761, was so lax in his ideas of Church authority, that some free-thinking Christians were wittily styled by Archbishop Secker, "Christians secundum usum Winton," in allusion to the customary title of books printed "for the use of the Winchester scholars."

The chief interest of Chelsea, however, not only to the antiquary, but to the educated Englishman, must lie in the fact that it was the much-loved home of that great man whose memory English history will never allow to die, Sir Thomas More. Here he resided, surrounded by his family, in a house about midway between the Thames and the King's Road, on the site of what is now Beaufort Street. In Aubrey's "Letters from the Bodleian," we read :-"His country house was at Chelsey, in Middlesex, where Sir John Danvers built his house. The chimney-piece, of marble, in Sir John's chamber, was the chimney-piece of Sir Thomas More's chamber, as Sir John himself told me. Where the gate is now, adorned with two noble pyramids, there stood anciently a gate-house, which was flatt on the top, leaded, from whence was a most pleasant prospect of the Thames and the fields beyond; on this place the Lord Chancellor More was wont to recreate himself and contemplate."

Erasmus-himself one of the most cherished friends of Sir Thomas-describes the house as "neither mean nor subject to envy, yet magnificent and commodious enough." The building, which was erected early in the sixteenth century, was successively called Buckingham House and Beau

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as was his adherence to the Roman Catholic creed, | coming one day to dine with him during his is acknowledged even by Protestant writers. Wood, in his "Ecclesiastical Antiquities," says:-"More rose early, and assembled his family morning and evening in the chapel, when certain prayers and Psalms were recited. He heard mass daily himself, and expected all his household to do so on Sundays and festivals; whilst, on the eves of great feasts, all watched till matins. Every Friday, as was also his custom on some other occasions, he

chancellorship, found him in church with a surplice on, and singing in the choir. "God's body, my Lord Chancellor!" said the duke, as they returned to his house. "What! a parish clerk! a parish clerk! you dishonour the king and his office." "Nay," said Sir Thomas, "you may not think your master and mine will be offended with me for serving God, his master, or thereby count his office dishonoured."

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In later years the chapel in More's house appears to have been free to the public, for in various marriage licences, granted towards the commencement of the last century, persons were to be married "in the parish church, in the chapel of Chelsea College, or the chapel of Beaufort House." The only fragment of the house remaining down to the present century was a portion of the cellars, which existed beneath the house No. 17, forming one of the line of dwellings now known by the name of Beaufort Row. An avenue, with a high wall on each side, constituted the chief approach to the house, or that from the river-side; and fronting the entrance of this avenue were the stairs used by Sir Thomas More when descending to his barge. A terrace-walk, which stretched from the house towards the east, is described in the legal writings of the estate as being so much raised that it was ascended by several steps. After the demolition of the house a portion of the ground was occupied as a burial-place for the Moravian Society, and the remains of the stables were converted into public schools.

Linacre, and Tunstall often partook of the hospitality of his table. Here Sir Thomas often entertained "Master John Heywood," the early English playwright, and cracked with him many a joke. It is said that it was through Sir Thomas More that he was introduced to the Lady Mary, and so was brought under the notice of Henry VIII., who appointed him the Court jester. Those were, indeed, strange days, when a buffoon dared to laugh in the face of a sovereign who could send to the scaffold so venerable, so grave and learned a scholar, and so loyal a subject of the Crown. The wit of Sir Thomas More was almost boundless, and he was also no mean actor. It is related of him that when an interlude was performed he would "make one among the players, occasionally coming upon them by surprise, and without rehearsal fall into a character, and support the part by his extemporaneous invention, and acquit himself with credit." It was probably by his intercourse with Heywood that the latent dramatic powers of the great Lord Chancellor were called out.

Henry VIII., to whom More owed his rise and fall, frequently came to Chelsea, and spent whole days in the most familiar manner with his learned friend; and "it is supposed," says Faulkner, in his "History of Chelsea," "that the king's answer to Luther was prepared and arranged for the public eye, with the assistance of Sir Thomas, during these visits." Notwithstanding all this familiarity, Sir Thomas understood the temper of his royal master very well, as the following anecdote sufficiently testifies :-"One day the king came unexpectedly to Chelsea, and dined with him, and after dinner walked in his garden for the space of an

The most important circumstances in the life of Sir Thomas More are too well known to need repetition in these pages. His domestic life at Chelsea has been described by Erasmus in the following words:-"There he converses with his wife, his son, his daughter-in-law, his three daughters and their husbands, with eleven grandchildren. There is not any man living so affectionate as he, and he loveth his old wife as well as if she was a young maid. You would say there was in that place Plato's Academy; but I do his house an injury in comparing it to Plato's Academy, where there were only disputations of numbers and geo-hour, holding his arm about his neck. As soon metrical figures, and sometimes of moral virtues. I should rather call his house a school, or university of Christian religion, for though there is none therein but readeth or studieth the liberal sciences, their special care is piety and virtue; there is no quarrelling or intemperate words heard; none seen idle; that worthy gentleman doth not govern with proud and lofty words, but with well-timed and courteous benevolence; everybody performeth his duty, yet is there always alacrity; neither is sober mirth anything wanting."

Erasmus was the correspondent of Sir Thomas More long before he was personally acquainted with his illustrious friend; and although strongly dissimilar in religious opinions, when the great reformer and scholar visited England he was the frequent guest of Sir Thomas at Chelsea. The house of More was, indeed, the resort of all who were conspicuous for learning and taste. Collet,

as his Majesty was gone, Sir Thomas's son-in-law observed to him how happy he was, since the king had treated him with that familiarity he had never used to any person before, except Cardinal Wolsey, with whom he once saw his Majesty walk arm-inarm." "I thank our Lord," answered Sir Thomas, "I find his grace my very good lord indeed; and I believe he doth as singularly love me as any subject within this realm; however, son Roper, I may tell thee I have no cause to be proud thereof, for if my head would win him a castle in France, it should not fail to go off."

Sir Thomas More is said to have converted one part of his house into a prison for the restraint of heretics; and according to a passage in "Foxe's Book of Martyrs," he here kept in prison, and whipped in his garden, one John Baynham, a lawyer, who was suspected of holding the doctrines of Wycliffe, and who was ultimately burnt at Smith

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field. But it must be remembered that he lived in an age when religious persecution was practised by all parties, and when, as Byron writes"Christians did burn each other, quite persuaded

That all th' Apostles would have done as they did. More's fondness for animals is an interesting and curious peculiarity. Erasmus tells us, that watching their growth, development, and dispositions, was one of his chief pleasures. "At Chelsea may be seen many varieties of birds, and an ape, a fox, a weasel, and a ferret. Moreover, if anything foreign, or otherwise remarkable, comes in his way, he greedily buys it up, and he has his house completely furnished with these objects; so that, as you enter, there is everywhere something to catch the eye, and he renews his own pleasure as often as he becomes a witness to the delight of others." With one of his favourite dogs, Sir Thomas would frequently sit in fine weather on the top of the gate-house, in order to enjoy the agreeable prospect. A curious story is told in the "Percy Anecdotes," which will bear repeating :-"It happened one day that a 'Tom o' Bedlam,' a maniac vagrant, got upstairs while Sir Thomas was there, and coming up to him, cried out, 'Leap, Tom, leap!' at the same time, attempting to throw his lordship over the battlements. Sir Thomas, who was a feeble old man, and incapable of much resistance, had the presence of mind to say, 'Let us first throw this little dog over.' The maniac threw the dog down immediately. Pretty sport,' said the Lord Chancellor; now go down and bring him up; then we'll try again.' While the poor madman went down for the dog, his lordship made fast the door of the stairs, and, calling for help, saved his life."

Sir Thomas More is to be remembered also with gratitude on quite another score, and on higher grounds; for he was the generous patron of Holbein, the Court painter, who occupied rooms in his house for three years, and was employed in drawing portraits of his patron and his family.

Hoddesdon, in his "History of More," says :— “He seldom used to feast noble men, but his poor neighbours often, whom he would visit in their houses, and bestow upon them his large liberality --not groats, but crowns of gold-even more than according to their wants. He hired a house also for many aged people in Chelsea, whom he daily relieved, and it was his daughter Margaret's charge to see them want nothing; and when he was a private lawyer he would take no fees of poor folks, widows, nor pupils."

By indefatigable application Sir Thomas More cleared the Court of Chancery of all its causes. One day, having ended a cause, he called for the next,

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and was told that "there was no other depending in the court." He was delighted to hear it, and ordered it to be inserted in the records of the court. This gave rise to the epigram--not the worst in the English language-which we have already quoted in our account of Lincoln's Inn.* After having held the Great Seal for two years and a half, Sir Thomas, on being pressed by the king to hasten on his divorce from Catherine of Arragon, resigned his office in May, 1532. He retired cheerfully to the privacy of domestic life, and to the studies which he was not long to enjoy. On the day after he resigned the chancellorship, Sir Thomas went to church, as usual, with his wife and family, none of whom he had yet informed of his resignation. During the service, as was his custom, he sat in the choir in a surplice. After the service it was usual for one of his attendants to go to her ladyship's pew and say, "My lord is gone before." But this day the ex-Chancellor came himself, and, making a low bow said, "Madam, my lord is gone." Then, on their way home, we are told, "to her great mortification, he unriddled his mournful pleasantry, by telling her his lordship was gone, in the loss of his official dignities." He was included in the bill of attainder introduced into Parliament to punish Elizabeth Barton-"the holy maid of Kent "-and her accomplices; but on his disclaiming any surviving faith in the nun, or any share in her treasonable designs, his name was ultimately struck out of the bill. On the passing of the Act of Succession, which declared the king's marriage with Catherine invalid, and fixed the succession in the children of Anne Boleyn, More declined to accept it, and refused to take the oath. A few days afterwards he was committed to the Tower, and in the space of a few short months, as is known to every reader of English history, was placed on his trial for high treason, found guilty, and executed on Tower Hill. More retained his mild and characteristic jocularity to the last. "Going up the scaffold, which was so weak that it was ready to fall,” we read in Roper's "Life of More,” "he said hurriedly to the lieutenant, I pray you, Master Lieutenant, see me safe up; and for my coming down, let me shift for myself.' When the axe of the executioner was about to fall, he asked for a moment's delay while he moved aside his beard. Pity that should be cut,' he murmured; 'that surely has not committed treason.""

"Thou art the cause of this man's death," said Henry VIII. to Anne Boleyn when the news of his execution was brought to the guilty couple; and

*See Vol. III., p. 58.

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