A Walk from London to Fulham

th

to one of them, and evidently was fashioned in the seventeenth century. The celebrated bookseller, Jacob Tonson, lived for some time at North End. At York Cottage, which is on the right hand side of the road, about a quarter of a mile from the church, resided for many years Mr. J. B. Pyne, the landscape painter. At a short distance beyond, the road from Old Brompton crosses into Fulham Fields. Here,

or persons recovering from the Great Plague in 1665. Sir E. Bulwer Lytton has resided here. In 1813 "it was appropriated for the reception of insane ladies" (Faulkner), and it is now a lunatic asylum for ladies, with the name of "Talfourd" on a brass plate. A little further on the road, out of which we have turned, is a cottage to the right named Wentworth Cottage. Here Mr. and Mrs. S. C. Hall once resided. The willow in front of the cottage was planted by them from a slip of that over the grave of Napoleon at St. Helena. The land opposite this cottage is now to be let on building lease. This district, now known as "Fulham Fields," was formerly called "No Man's L

orks, 1621). Uncle Plumbe had been a widower; and from monuments which exist, or existed, in the parish church of Fulham, appears to have departed this life on the 9th February, 1593–4, aged sixty. In the previous May, his widow had lost her son Edmund (or Edward) Gresham, at the age of sixteen; and seriously touched by the rapid proofs of mortality within her house, from which the hand of death had within

nder Muses, by my never sufficiently honoured dear uncle, W. Plumb, Esq." It is not our intention to linger over the recollections connected with the age of Elizabeth in Fulham Fields or at North En

to descend the well, and when filled, is raised by the weight of wood attached to the opposite end of the pole. This mode of raising water is still in use in the East, and Wilkinson, in his 'Manners and Customs of the Ancient Egyptians,' Series I. vol. ii. p. 4, has engraved repr

going to Hammersmith, and that to the left leading to Fulham. Hammersmith was a part

ouse, once the residence of Cheeseman the engraver, of whom little is known, except that he was a pupil of Bartolozzi, and lived in Newman Street about thirty years ago. He is said to hav

he tree in the fore-court. We then come to the North End Sunday and Day Schools, erected in 1857. The road here curves round by the wall of Kensington Hall, a large mansion on the right, buil

stood the house of Cipriani, the painter. Cipriani was born at Florence, in 1727, and died in London in 1785. He came to England in 1755; and he was one of the members of the Royal Academy at its foundation in 1769, when he was employed to make the design for the diploma given to Academicians and Associates on their admission, which was engraved by Bartol

degree of Doctor of Music. In 1822 he was appointed Principal of the Royal Academy of Music. He performed for the last time in public in 1834 in Westminster Abbey, during the royal festival, and died 20th December, 1847, while sitting at dinner. Dr. Crotch has composed n

e up, and he afterwards, at the breakfast table, communicated the progress of his story. How little the exterior has been altered in the last fifty years, a comparison of this sketch, made in 1844, with the print prefixed to the 4th volume of Richardson's 'Correspondence,' will show at a glance. Sir Richard Phillips's print was published by him May 26, 1804. Then, as now, this mansion was divided into two houses, and the

Baronet, whom he tried to prevail upon to visit him at North End. After the appearance of the fourth volume of Clarissa Harlowe, a lady, who signed herself Belfour, wrote to Richar

the novelist, her ladyship taking care to mystify her identity by giving her address, Post-office, Exet

old anything but age and deformity! May you meet with applause only from envious old maids, surly bachelors, an

e and Clarissa un

nough to wish two lovers happy in a married state. As I myself am in that class, it makes me still more anxious for the lovely pai

private circumstances: and to a hint given in the January following by Lady Bradshaigh, of her intention to visit London before she

hat you will see me, unknown to myself, when you come to town. Permi

though she has a friend there; observing archly, "Lancashire, if you please;" adding an invitation, if he is inclined to take a journey of two hu

ded to this invit

if you will be so cruel as to keep yourself still incognito, will acquiesce. I wish you would accept of

ore the age o

-the what you please of my incognito, and I will never address you as other than what you choose to pass for. If you knew, Madam, you would not question that I am in earn

s vanity into a description of his person, and very plainly hints at a meeting in the Park, t

as a support, when attacked by sudden tremors or startings and dizziness." . . . "Of a light-brown complexion; teeth not yet failing him; smoothish faced and ruddy cheeked; at some times looking to be about sixty-five, at other times much younger; a regular even pa

lls the elderly gentleman with "a grey eye, too often overclouded by mistiness from the head," but "by chance lively," "that she wil

ur business requires; for a walk in the Park is an excuse she uses for her health; and as s

nt, as if in ridicule of Richardson's

g, I give you the advantage of knowing she is middle aged, middle sized, a degree above plump, brown as an oak

rd with the sentimental typographical taste of the times, which required the dilution of an idea into seven or eight volumes to make it palatable. For we are told that a young Cantab, who, when asked if he had read Clarissa, replied, "D---n it, I would not read it through to save my life," was set down as an incurable dunce. And that a lady reading to her maid, whilst she c

Mrs. Belfour has been in London six weeks, and the novelist begins "not to know w

be in sight of my dwelling, and three weeks more to elapse, yet I neither

e situation of "dear, good, excellent Mr. Ri

Saturday, that I had the pleasure of your letter, I went into the Park on Sunday (it being a very fine day) in hopes of seeing such a lady as you describe, conte

and forwards in the Mall, till past your friend's time of being there (she prepa

letter full of satirical banter, which, however, it may be questionable if Richar

wanting. You never go to public places. I knew not where to look for you (without making myself known) except in the Park, which place I have frequented most warm days. Once I fancied I met you; I gave a sort of a flut

y, instead of a whitish coat," except the fin

ure that I have not seen you. How came I to know that you have a mole upon your left cheek? But not to make myself appear more knowing than I am, I'll

-of-country-red in her cheeks" correspondent, requests him "to direct only to C. L., and enclose it to Miss J., to be left at Mrs. G.'s" etc. etc., previously

rdson on the 2nd February writ

self at liberty to change names without Act of Parliament. I wish, madam, that Lovelac

on Saturday in the Park in my way to North End. The day indeed, thought I, is not promising; but where so great an earnestness is professed, and the lady possibly by this time made acquainted with the disappointment she has given me, who knows but she will be carried in a chair to the Park, to make me amends, and there reveal herself? Three different chairs at different views saw I. My hope, therefore, not so very much out of the way; but in none of them the lady I wished to see. Up the Mall walked I, down the

s given me. Lud! lud! what a giddy appearance! thought I. O that I had half

e at last reach your hands, take them as written, a

ad

er and humb

ichar

of Richardson,' we read, that "as a writer he possessed original genius, and an unlimited command over the tender passions." He carried on a foreign literary correspondence, and wa

is represented in the accompanying cut. This was formerly the residence of Sir James Branscomb, who, according to Faulkner, "in his early days had been a servant to the Earl of Gainsborough, and afterwards, for upwards of forty years, carried on a lottery office in Holborn. He was a common-councilman of the Ward of Fa