Chelsea

by G. E. Mitton

THE ROYAL HOSPITAL.

The solid and yet harmonious building designed by Sir Christopher Wren is the nucleus of Chelsea. Indeed, the inhabitants locally call the hospital itself “Chelsea.” In all prints later than the end of the seventeenth century the central cupola rising above the two great wings forms a conspicuous landmark. In the days of William and Mary the gardens sloping down to the Thames were laid out in the stiff, formal Dutch style. Canals, in the shape of a capital L, with the foot reaching to the river, intersected prim gardens, and rows of little limes, pollarded like willows, edged the banks. It was only in 1852 that these canals were finally filled in, and the limes transplanted in the avenue bordering Ranelagh Gardens, where they still flourish. The Court favourite of Charles II., Nell Gwynne, whose name is strongly associated with Chelsea, is said to have suggested the idea of this home for aged and infirm soldiers. Evelyn evidently considers the merit to belong to Sir Stephen Fox, who certainly was a great benefactor. It has been 70 suggested that the latter persuaded the favourite to use her influence with the King, which seems probable. The idea, at all events, commended itself to Charles, who accordingly set about getting his subjects’ money to carry it out. He gave £6,787 odd from unsupplied secret service money. To this, Tobias Rustat, an under-keeper of the Royal Palace of Hampton Court, and yeoman of the robes to Charles II., described by Evelyn as “page of the back stairs, a very simple, ignorant, but honest and loyal creature,” contributed £1,000. However simple this man was, his simplicity manifested itself in a commendable direction. He is said to have given away his whole fortune in charity. It is to him we owe the statue of Charles II. in Roman dress which stands in the centre of the Hospital court. This statue is made of bronze, and there is a companion one of James II., a gift from the same benefactor, in Whitehall. Walpole attributes one of these to Grinling Gibbons, but which one is uncertain.

Sir Stephen Fox had been faithful to King Charles II. during his exile, and at the Restoration he received the reward of his services. He sat in the House of Commons from then until his death, twice representing Westminster. He was made Paymaster-General of the Forces and one of the Lords of the Treasury. He seems to have been an active-minded man, with considerable business 71 propensity. He devised a scheme for paying the troops out of his private purse, and levying a certain percentage on them for the convenience. As the pay of the army was much in arrears, and at all times irregular, this arrangement was thankfully accepted. The King saw in it the germ of an idea by which he might raise money for the Hospital. Accordingly, in 1683 he directed by letters of Privy Seal that one third of the money raised by imposing a poundage on the troops should go to the Hospital. He also added a clause to the effect that this was to be retrospective, to take effect from 1681. Hence the first haul amounted to over £20,000. Emboldened by success, Charles in the following year added to his demands one day’s pay from every man in the army.

But the building of the Hospital was more expensive than he had anticipated. It cost altogether £150,000, and when finished it would need an endowment. Charles had, therefore, recourse to the Stuart device of stirring up the people to give, by means of letters to the clergy, but without result, and in 1686 he directed that two-thirds of the army poundage should go to the continuance of the building, and finally that the whole should be devoted to this purpose after deductions for necessary expenses.

James II. carried on the design of his predecessor 72 during his short reign, but the building was not completed until 1694, under William and Mary. Sir Stephen Fox became chairman of the first Board of Commissioners, an office which has been ever since attached to the Paymaster-Generalship.

Some legacies have been bequeathed to the Hospital since the foundation, and various sums of unclaimed prize-money were also applied to this object, amounting in the aggregate to nearly £600,000. The income at present drawn from the above sources is a mere trifle in comparison with the expenditure, only amounting to little over £3,000 yearly.

The building—which is wonderfully well adapted for its object, being, in fact, a barracks, and yet a permanent home—was, when completed, just as it is at present, without the range of outbuildings in which are the Secretary’s offices, etc., and one or two outbuildings which were added in the beginning of the present century. The out-pensioners were not included in the original scheme, but when the building was ready for occupation, it was round that nearly one hundred applicants must be disappointed owing to want of room. These men received, accordingly, a small pension while waiting for vacancies. From this small beginning has sprung an immense army of out-pensioners in all parts of the world, including 73 natives who have served with the British flag, and the roll contains 84,500 names. The allowances vary from 5s. to 1½d. a day, the latter being paid to natives. The usual rate is about 1s. for a private, and 2s. 6d. for a sergeant. The in-pensioners, of whom 540 are at Chelsea and 150 at the sister hospital of Kilmainham in Ireland, receive sums varying from one shilling to a penny a day for tobacco money, and are “victualled, lodged, and clothed” in addition. They have rations of cocoa and bread-and-butter for breakfast; tea and bread-and-butter in the evening; mutton for dinner five days in the week, beef one day, and beef or bacon the remaining one. The allowance of meat is thirteen ounces, and the bread one pound, per diem. Besides this they have potatoes and pudding. They are clothed in dark blue in the winter, the coats being replaced by scarlet ones in the summer. Peaked caps are worn usually, and cocked hats with full dress. H. Herkomer’s picture “The Last Muster” is too well known to need more than a passing comment. The scene it represents is enacted every Sunday in the Hospital at Chelsea. Twenty thousand men have ended their days peacefully in the semi-military life which in their long service has become second nature to them, and 500,000 have passed through the list of out-pensioners.

The establishment is now kept up by annual 74 Parliamentary grants, of which the first vote, for £550, was passed in 1703. Up to 1873 sums varying from £50,000 to £100,000 were voted annually, but these were embodied with the army votes. Since that year the Hospital grants have been recorded separately. They amount to three and three-quarter millions, but part of this is repaid by the Indian Government in consideration of the men who have served in the Indian Army. In 1833 the levies from the poundage of the army ceased.

The annual expenditure of the Hospital now equals £1,800,000, and 98 per cent. of this goes to the out-pensioners. In 1894 the question was raised as to whether the money now supplied to the in-pensioners could not be better used in increasing the amount of the out-pensions. A committee was appointed to “inquire into the origin and circumstances attending the formation of Chelsea and Kilmainham, and whether their revenues could not be more advantageously used for the benefit of the army.” Numbers of the old soldiers themselves, as well as the Governor and all the Hospital officials, were examined. One or two of the old men seemed to imagine that they would prefer a few pence a day to spend as they pleased instead of shelter and food, but the majority were decisive in their opinion that on no attainable pension could they be so 75 comfortable as they were at present. Consequently the committee embodied their resolution in the following words: “That no amount of increased pension that it would be practicable to give would enable the men to be cared for outside the Hospital as they are cared for at present.”

The life led by the old men is peculiar, partaking as it does somewhat of a military character. The side-wings of the Hospital, built of red brick faced with stone, and darkened by age, are 360 feet in length and four stories in height. Each story contains one ward, which runs the whole length of the wing. The wide, shallow old staircase, the high doors, the wainscot, are all of oak coloured by age. The younger men and the least infirm occupy the highest wards, which look out upon the quadrangles by means of windows on the roof. Each ward contains about five-and-twenty men, including two sergeants, who have rather larger apartments than the rest, one at each end. An open space, like the between-decks of a ship, occupies half the longitudinal space, and the other half is partitioned off into separate cubicles containing a bed and a box, and these are open at the top and into the room. There is a large stove and one or two high-backed settles in each ward. Here the old fellows sit and smoke and warm up any food they have reserved from 76 the last meal. One or two have attempted to furnish their cubicles with pictures cut from the illustrated papers, but they do not seem to care much, as a rule, for anything but warmth and a pipe.