The Thames

by G. E. Mitton

By virtue's holiest powers attended.

—Wordsworth.

Of this abbey not much remains. The crypt is isolated, standing away from the remainder of the buildings, and anyone may penetrate into it. The old moat is excellently well preserved, and its circuit shows that the abbey premises must have extended over at least five acres of ground. The church, which is now the parish church, is an odd little building. It has a single aisle, and the original work is Norman, though it has been much modernised. It forms part of a courtyard or quadrangle, and faces a large, barn-like structure, which was the refectory; in parts this is also Norman, and in it are the Decorated windows. The materials used in the construction of this refectory are most curious—brick, chalk, flint, any sort of rubble, all mixed together, and very solid. The stable is built in the same way, and it is amazing that such heterogeneous stuff should have stood the test of time. Not far off also is a dove-house of a very ancient pattern. The interior, with its cavernous gloom and the numerous holes in the chalk for the birds to nest in, is well worth looking into. Indeed, the whole of this side of the buildings—away from the river—is worth landing to see. It is all within a very few yards, and once past the modern house we find the little church with its old-fashioned wooden tower, the green with its well-grown elms, and the dove-house and stable, which combine to form a very unusual scene altogether.

Sir Richard Lovelace, created Baron Lovelace by Charles I., built Lady Place on the site of the abbey in 1600. He was a relative of the Cavalier poet of the same name.

In Macaulay's history there is an account of Lady Place, given graphically as he well knew how. He is speaking of a descendant of the founder, and he says:

"His mansion, built by his ancestors out of the spoils of the Spanish galleons from the Indies, rose on the ruins of a house of Our Lady in that beautiful valley, through which the Thames, not yet defiled by the precincts of a great capital, nor rising and falling with the flow and ebb of the sea, rolls under woods of beech round the gentle hills of Berkshire. Beneath the stately saloon, adorned by Italian pencils, was a subterraneous vault in which the bones of ancient monks had sometimes been found."

The third Lord Lovelace plotted for the coming of William of Orange, and in the crypt many a secret meeting was held to arrange the details. It is said that the actual invitation which brought the Dutchman over was signed in this low, dark vault.

Lady Place later belonged to a brother of Admiral Kempenfelt, who went down with the Royal George.

Certain places are frequently associated with certain seasons of the year, and to my mind at Hurley it is always summer. The smell of the new mown hay on the long island between the lock channel and part of the main stream, the faint, delicate scent of dog-roses, and all the other scents that load the summer air, seem to linger for ever in this sheltered place. The backwater running up on the other side of this island to the weir is a very enticing one. Thirsty plants dip their pretty heads to drink of the water that comes swirling from the weir like frosted glass, and trees of all sorts—ash, elm, horse-chestnut, and the ubiquitous willows and poplars—lean over the water in crooked elbows, giving a sweet shade and a delicious coolness. The weir is a long one, broken by islands into three parts. Another long island is parallel to the first one. Indeed, Hurley is a complicated place, and one that is ever new. The swans certainly appreciate it. Drayton says "Our flood's queen, Thames, with ships and swans is crowned." I don't know about the ships; nothing very large can get above Molesey Lock; but as for the swans they abound, and especially about here.

The swans on the river belong to the Crown, the Vintners' and the Dyers' Companies. The grant of this privilege to the companies goes back so far that it is lost in the mists of antiquity. The Crown is far the largest holder, but as the numbers of swans, of course, vary from year to year, it is difficult to form an estimate of the total. The Vintners, who come next, own perhaps 150. They preserve only those that live below Marsh Lock, with the exception of a few black ones, which, contrary to expectation, have thriven very well, and find a happy hunting ground about Goring and Moulsford. The system of marking, called swan-upping, has been modified of late years, as a protest was made against it on the ground of cruelty. Before that time the Vintners marked their swans with a large V right across the upper mandible, but now they give only two little nicks, one on each side. From this comes the well-known sign of old yards and public-houses, the Swan with Two Necks, a corruption of nicks! The Dyers have a nick on one side only. The origin and variety of swan marks is a curious subject. The process of swan-upping, or as it is often incorrectly called, swan-hopping, gives an occasion for a pleasant excursion, as it occurs about a fortnight before the August Bank-Holiday, in the very height of the summer. Only the birds of the current year are done, as the marks generally last for life, and though they are accustomed to see too many people to fear mankind, the handling naturally frightens them. The swans, as a rule, find their own living, grubbing about in the banks and on the river bottom, and they are also occasionally fed from house-boats and pleasure boats, but in winter sometimes they are hard put to it, and provision has to be made by their owners.