By AN OLD INHABITANT Decorative design LONDON: The Press Printers, 142 Strand Picture of the author...

Decorative divider In offering my early recollections of Chelsea and surrounding neighbourhood , I thought they might be interesting to many of my old friends and neighbours , and while away pleasantly some of their leisure moments .  The idea of compiling them from a diary , spasmodically kept , only occurred to me when confined to my room , to pass away some of the weary hours , and I certainly found the task extremely advantageous .  Accordingly , I have had them printed , for presentation to

In my early recollection Chelsea had many industries characteristic of the village, which have entirely passed away.  The only conveyance—a two-horse stage coach, called the “Village Clock”—used to run from the Cross Keys, in Lawrence Street, twice a day, for one shilling to Charing Cross, and one-and-six pence to the City.  It would stop to change horses at the “Black Horse,” in Coventry Street.  Time, from Chelsea, ten in the morning and two in the afternoon; supposed to do the journey in an h

In Smith Street, at the corner of Durham Mews, stood Durham House School, a large, square, rambling old building, without any pretence to architectural design, apparently built at different times.  It contained over forty rooms and dormitories, with a large playground at the back extending the whole length of the mews.  It was strictly a boarding school, and must have had nearly one hundred boys training for Eton and Harrow and the Universities of Oxford and Cambridge, mostly the sons of the ari

Entertainment or amusement in Chelsea was very poor, as there was no room or place for the purpose.  The only one I can recollect was when a professor of mesmerism and clairvoyance came down and took the skittle ground at the back of the “George and Dragon.”  He was a thin, shabby old man, dressed in black with very dirty linen.  With him were his wife, and two girls—his daughters, he informed us—one about twelve and the other about fourteen, with ringlets, shabbily dressed and closely covered u

There were some notable people living in Cheyne Walk in those days.  At number three lived Mr. Goss, organist at St. Luke’s, afterwards at St. Paul’s Cathedral, who was subsequently knighted.  At number five lived Justice Neild, an eccentric old bachelor, who left half a million of money to the Queen, and next door lived Doctor Butler, curator of the British Museum, and at Gothic House lived Mr. Moore, a man seven feet high, and stout in proportion, dressed in a long drab coat, breeches and Hess

It was a grand sight on the first of May to see the four-horse mail coaches pass along Knightsbridge at eight in the evening.  As many as fourteen would pass all in their new livery of scarlet coats and broad-brimmed top hats, trimmed with gold lace, the guards blowing their horns.  I have seen them take up passengers at the top of Sloane Street, who arrived there in one of the old two-horse hackney coaches, and it appeared quite an undertaking to get the passengers on board.  They would branch

The first public garden that I recollect, long before Cremorne, was the Manor House in the King’s Road, between Little’s Nursery and Shawfield Street, where Radnor Street and the Commercial Tavern now stand.  It was a detached house with carriage drive in front, and grounds reaching to where the bottom of Radnor Street is.  It used to be occupied by one, Colonel Middleton, and in about 1836 it was taken by a man of the name of Smith, and turned into a tea and recreation garden, a sort of little

The first census that I can recollect, if all the enumerators had the experience I had, must have been a very incomplete and misleading return.  I was asked to take a section of four hundred forms to deliver, get filled up and return, for which I was to receive one guinea, and for every fifty beyond that number two shillings and sixpence, and as I was told it would only take a few hours on the Saturday afternoon to deliver, and the same on the Monday to collect, I thought it was pretty good pay.

People had to walk more in those days, as there was no riding to your employment.  I know the first employment I obtained was at the London Docks as checker to the landing of goods, and I had to get there by eight and leave at four.  No time for meals, which I had to eat behind the desk flap.  I had to stand all day on a wheeled platform, with a desk in front, that was moved along the quay wherever it was wanted.  It used to take one and a half hours to get there; it was a long drag, but as I go

I was always fairly successful in getting employment, as I was always ready and willing to earn a few shillings, our circumstances being needy.  I recollect sitting at home one Saturday evening when a friend of mother’s came in who kept an old tavern at the bottom of Church Street, and was in sad trouble.  She had just been to Doctor Philpot at the corner of the street for advice, and found out the doctor had been attending her husband for what was then known as the “Blue Devils,” after a drinki

At that time it was a difficulty to get to Epsom any other way than tramping it, as there was no railway, and the lowest fare was ten shillings, coach or van, and, being anxious for the treat, I had saved up sixteen shillings and threepence, and by a little diplomacy I had arranged to be abroad for the day without letting anyone know where I was going.  At about four o’clock on the Wednesday morning I started from Cheyne for my trip, with my savings and two or three slices of bread and butter in

At eleven I turned down a lane about a mile before you get to the town, and over a stile and through corn-fields by a path that brought you to the Downs.  At the bottom of the hill there was a large and busy crowd at that time in the morning although but a few visitors had arrived.  The Grand Stand was there and the Enclosure, although very much smaller than at present.  Tents and booths covered the ground extending at least one-third of the extent of the course, with the signs of well-known Lon

The Morris Dancers at Chelsea on May Day or early in May would pay us a visit, generally consisting of from nine to twelve, all men or lads.  They had the appearance of countrymen, dressed some in smock frocks, others in shirt-sleeves, breeches and gaiters, and all decked out in coloured ribbons tied round their hats, arms, and knees of their breeches, with long streamers, and others carrying short sticks with ribbons twisted round, and bows on top, or garlands of flowers tied on small hoops.  T

There appears always to have been a radical element in Chelsea, for a large contingent met on Chelsea Common and marched to Kennington Common to give the Dorsetshire Labourers, Frost, Williams, and Jones, a grand reception on their return from imprisonment.  They were drawn by four horses in a hackney carriage with outriders, and followed by a large number of vehicles occupied by their admirers, and a large crowd, when a meeting was held on Kennington Common, and violent speeches were made.  The

At Knightsbridge there used to be a toll collector, but I do not recollect any toll gate.  A man used to come out of a gate in the fence to collect it, about where the Bank now stands, beside it the Cannon Brewery, a large building with a cannon at the top, with the back overlooking the park.  That and White’s menagerie, adjoining the Fox and Bull tavern, were pulled down, and one of the first National Exhibitions was built on the ground.  It was for a collection formed by a doctor who had trave