Ham House.—Few mansions are more pleasantly situated than this—the dwelling of the Tollemaches, Earls of Dysart. It stands on the south bank of the Thames; distant about twelve miles from London; the pretty village of Twickenham is immediately opposite; to the left is “Eel-pie Island,” famous as a holiday resort of many who “in populous city pent” covet periodical acquaintance with clear streams and green lanes; to the right is far-famed Richmond Hill, which, although distant a mile perhaps, seems, from the tortuous winding of the river, to form a part of the demesne; while the back ground is supplied by Richmond Park, with its graceful slopes and its thick masses of rich underwood mingled among groups of magnificent forest trees.

The House was erected early in the seventeenth century—the date, 1610, still stands on the door of the principal entrance. It is said to have been built for the good Prince Henry, eldest son of James the First; and a tradition exists that the illness of which he died was the result of bathing too freely in the adjacent river. It is, however, unlikely that the Prince ever resided here; and it is certain that the builder was Sir Thomas Vavasor, Knight Marshal, appointed, in 1611, together with Sir Francis Bacon, Judge of the Marshal’s court, and to have been “surrendered by him, together with certain customary lands, to John (Ramsay), Earl of Holderness, who died in 1624 or 1625.” We follow the authority of Manning, the County Historian, who states that by this Earl, or, more probably, his heirs, the House and Lands were “sold to William Murray—groom of the bed-chamber to James the First, and afterwards created, in 1643, by that monarch Earl of Dysart[43]—“whose widow, Katherine, on the 22nd May, 1651, surrendered them to the use of Sir Lionel Tollemache and Elizabeth his wife, her daughter, who in the year following surrendered them to the use of Sir Lionel’s will.” This daughter, to whom the honour of the Earl—“such it was,” writes Burnet—descended, having outlived Sir Lionel, married a second time (being then Countess of Dysart) the Earl, afterwards Duke, of Lauderdale.[44] The House and Estates of Ham were inherited by “her heirs by her first husband;” in whose possession they have since continued, being now the property of Lionel William John Tollemache, the sixth Earl of Dysart, and the residence of his Lordship’s brother.

The Duchess of Lauderdale—famous during the reigns of four monarchs; the First and Second James, and the First and Second Charles; and through the Protectorship of Cromwell—refurnished the House at Ham; where she continued to reside, until her death at a very advanced age. The Interior, with its gorgeous, yet remarkably tasteful “furnishing,” has been scarcely altered since the aged dame occupied the Mansion. Time has dimmed the splendour of the “hangings,” and tarnished the costly draperies of the rich looms of France; but they remain—in some places tattered and torn—to supply indubitable evidence that the “woman of great beauty, but of far greater parts,” had at all events a refined taste, and that at least a portion of the money she was “wanting in

no means to obtain,” was judiciously expended in the adornment of her House. Among other untouched relics of gone-by days, is a small Antechamber, where, it is said, she not only condescended to receive the Second Charles, but, if tradition is to be credited, where she “cajoled” Oliver Cromwell. There still remain the chair in which she used to sit, her small walking-cane, and a variety of objects she was wont to value and cherish as memorials of her active life and the successful issues of a hundred political intrigues.[45]

The Exterior of the Mansion derives singularity chiefly from the adornment the outer walls receive from a collection of Roman busts; some of which, however, having been removed by time, have been replaced by those of Poets of the age of Anne. Immediately in front stands the statue

of “Father Thames”—copied from the well-known work of the elder Bacon in the Courtyard of Somerset House. The Hall-door (which supplies our initial letter) is of very elegant and elaborate workmanship. The Hall is surrounded by an open gallery; the rooms on the ground floor contain little to interest, except the Chamber and Dressing-room of the famous Duchess—the room in which her descendant, the late venerable Countess of Dysart, also died. Passing a small Chapel, the Chambers on the upper floor are reached by a staircase of peculiar character and very considerable beauty. The balustrades are of walnut-tree, richly carved into representations of armour and military trophies of various countries and epochs. The State Apartments are, as we have intimated, little changed. On either side of the Landing are the State

Bed-rooms—one of which, containing copies in tapestry of some of the Cartoons, the young Prince Henry is said to have occupied; the bed and furniture are certainly of the period. The several Drawing-rooms contain valuable and interesting relics of antiquity; and a small closet is amazingly rich in the choicest and rarest objects of virtÙ—Miniature Paintings by Philip Wouvermans, carved Frames by Grindling Gibbons, carved Cupids by Fiamingo, Conversation Scenes by Watteau, Miniatures by Cooper—in short, the assemblage here is of immense value and of surpassing interest. Among its other treasures may be mentioned a Lock of Hair of the unhappy Devereux, Earl of Essex—the authenticity of which admits of no dispute; a Prayer book, the gift of Charles the First; and, in the Library, no fewer than sixteen uninjured Caxtons.

The “Long Gallery”—ninety-two feet in length—is hung with Portraits, the majority of which are original works of the great Masters who conferred honour and glory on the Courts of the First and the Second Charles. Leading from the Long Gallery is the famous “Cabal Chamber,”[46] the chairs and tables and other furniture in which have been untouched since the notorious “five” here met in secret to arrange and carry out their plans.

So unchanged is the character of the Mansion, that little effort of imagination will be required to people it with the gay courtiers and light dames of the reign of the second Charles, when the “House at Ham” was in its glory. Every object it contains is in keeping with the period; of modern furniture there is nothing; but all the tables, chairs, footstools, fire-dogs,—from things of curious and rare value down to the minutest matters of daily use,—are of an age gone by. This advantage is mainly attributable to the fact that since the Restoration the venerable dwelling has had but few occupants—two of them, the Duchess of Lauderdale and the late Countess of Dysart, having died there when their years numbered upwards of fourscore. According to Hume, James the Second was “ordered to retire to this house,” on the arrival of the Prince of Orange in London, but “thinking himself unsafe so near the Metropolis, he fled privately to France.” Subsequently the “Manor House at Ham” ceased to possess any public interest; fortunately there has been no wish on the part of its noble owners to effect “restorations” of any kind; it has been consequently suffered to retain its solemn aspect and somewhat gloomy character; and remains a striking and impressive monument of the period of its erection.