St. Barnabas’ College consists of a Church, a Residentiary-house for the Clergy attached thereto, and a School-house, with residence for the teachers. The design originated with the Rev. W. J. E. Bennett, and the ground was the gift of the Marquis of Westminster. The commencement of the work was with the School-house, the foundation-stone of which was laid June 11th, 1846 (St. Barnabas’ Day); the foundation-stone of the Church was laid twelve months later, on which occasion the new School-house was formally opened; and on St. Barnabas’ Day, 1850, the Church was consecrated by the late Bishop of London.
The architecture, chosen by Mr. Cundy, under whose superintendence the College was erected, is the Early Pointed. The Church has a tower and spire of Caen stone, containing ten bells, the gift of as many parishioners; it is 170 ft. high. The interior is of great splendour, the open roof being finely painted, and the windows throughout of stained glass, by Wailes, of Newcastle, and representing incidents of the life of St. Barnabas. The chancel is separated from the body of the Church by a carved oak screen; the other wood fittings are also of oak. The lectern (a brass eagle), the communion-plate, font, and other costly ornaments, were the gifts of private individuals.
The Church has sittings for about 1,000 persons, all of which are free. It was erected entirely by voluntary contributions, and under the energetic incumbency of Mr. Bennett. Its cost has been about £15,000, of which the expense of the carcase of the Church, vestries, and buildings attached, amounted to £10,232.
St. Barnabas is but a Chapel-of-Ease to St. Paul’s, and is under the same legal government. Churchwardens are, however, appointed by the Incumbent of St. Paul’s for the maintenance of order and other similar offices; but, in other respects, the usual legal duties devolve on the wardens of St. Paul’s. The Schools are designed for 600 children—200 each of boys, girls, and infants.
During the Anti-Papal agitation of 1850, this Church was more than once the scene of unseemly disturbances on the part of the mob, and, to suppress which, it was necessary to call in the aid of the police.
Avery Farm Row doubtless is a remnant in name of some rural time. A family named Avery frequently appear in the registers of Knightsbridge Chapel, from 1663 to 1691; the probability is they were farmers here. Another Avery Row runs parallel to Bond Street.
Blomfield Terrace was so named after the late Bishop of London. At No. 1, the late Captain Warner, so well known for his invention of the “long range,” died in December 5th, 1853. He had long resided in the locality, and was well known in it. He left seven children with their mother, in great distress, for whom the Hon. and Rev. Robert Liddell made a public appeal; but it afterwards transpired his wife was living in receipt of parochial relief at Ashford. Warner was buried in the West Brompton Cemetery.
Commercial Road (The), on the right-hand side of the canal, is occupied almost entirely by factories, workshops, and the dwellings of those employed therein. A “House of Refuge,” under the management of the clergy of the parish, is situated here; and also a Ragged School, both supported by public contributions.
Jenny’s Whim Bridge, sometime called the Wooden, and now Ebury Bridge, crosses the canal at the north end of the Commercial Road. Here was a turnpike, similarly named, till 1825. Jenny’s Whim was a very celebrated place of amusement, on the site of St. George’s Row. It was equally the resort of high and low, and with all classes was for a lengthened period a favourite place of recreation. I never could unearth the origin of the name, but presume the tradition told me by an old inhabitant was the correct account, viz., that it was so called from its first landlady, who caused the gardens to be laid out in so fantastic a manner, as to cause the expressive little noun to be affixed to the pretty and familiar christian name she bore. Angelo says it was established by a celebrated pyrotechnist in the reign of George I. The house had a large breakfast room, and the grounds, though not large, contained a bowling green, alcoves, arbours, and flower beds, with a fish pond in the centre. There was also a cock-pit; and in a pond adjacent the brutal sport of duck-hunting was carried on. This is alluded to in the following sketch, quoted from the Connoisseur, May 15, 1775:—“The lower sort of people have their Ranelaghs and their Vauxhalls as well as the quality. Perrot’s inimitable grotto may be seen, for only calling for a pint of beer; and the royal diversion of duck-hunting may be had into the bargain, together with a decanter of Dorchester, for your sixpence, at Jenny’s Whim.”
Angelo says:—“It was much frequented, from its novelty being an inducement to allure the curious, by its amusing deceptions. Here was a large garden; in different parts were recesses, and by treading on a spring—taking you by surprise—up started different figures, some ugly enough to frighten you—a harlequin, a Mother Shipton, or some terrific animal. In a large piece of water facing the tea alcoves, large fish or mermaids were showing themselves above the surface.” Horace Walpole, in his Letters, occasionally alludes to Jenny’s Whim; in one to Montagu he spitefully says—“Here (at Vauxhall) we picked up Lord Granby, arrived very drunk from Jenny’s Whim.”