of Kent. It was alleged against Sir Thomas More that he visited this impostor at Sion House. After the death of Henry, who reserved it for his own use, it was given by Edward the Sixth to the Protector Somerset, and, on his attainder and execution, to the Duke of Northumberland. Lady Jane Grey, that ill-starred Queen of a few days, resided here when she was urged to accept the crown. Her acceptance of it led to her own death, and that of the Duke of Northumberland, when the building once more reverted to the Crown, and was restored by Queen Mary to the sisters" of all the Saints, and especially of St. Bridget." Elizabeth, however, dispossessed them, and gave Sion to the Earl of Northumberland, and it has ever since remained in the family.

There is a tradition that, before the dissolution of the religious houses, the monks at Richmond caused a tunnel to be made under the Thames to Sion, that they might visit the nuns clandestinely. The same story is related in connection with various other places, and was no doubt coined to serve its purposes in the time of Henry the Eighth. The same legend, and apparently the original one on which all the others are founded, as will be seen here

after in our account of the river Wey, is told of the monks of Ockham and the nuns of Newark Abbey.

Isleworth, a village adjoining the gardens of Sion, was at one time called Thistleworth, as we learn from the Surveys published prior to the year 1769. It was here, during the turbulent and long reign of Henry the Third, that the insurgent barons held their head-quarters for a considerable time, under the well-known Simon de Mountfort Earl of Leicester.

There was at

this time a royal palace, or summer-house, in the village, in the occupation of Richard Earl of Cornwall, the nominal King of Rome, and brother to Henry the Third. In these struggles the Londoners sided with the barons; and, being incensed against the King, and his son Prince Edward, who had broken into the treasury of the Knights Templars in Fleetstreet, and abstracted 1000l. they ultimately made a diversion on their own account, and marched in crowds to Isleworth, where they razed to the ground the stately palace of the King's brother. It was never afterwards rebuilt, and it is supposed that Sion House stands nearly upon its site.

The church of Isleworth, which stands close to the river's brink, is a mean-looking edifice;

relieved, however, and rendered more picturesque, by the clustering ivy which creeps up its venerable tower. It was rebuilt in the year 1706. The village itself is now insignificant, and is chiefly inhabited by market-gardeners. The environs contain some handsome villas.

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CHAPTER V.

Approach to Richmond.

The

grave of the poet Thomson. Wit among the Tombstones.-Richmond Palace.-The Battle of the Gnats. View from Richmond Hill. - A Song by Mallet.-Gay, the poet.-Traditions of Ham House. -Eel-pie Island. - The Poetical Sawyer. - Anecdote of Edmund Kean.

S we passed Kew bridge our mind was filled with a multitude of confused thoughts, reminiscences intricately blended, of poetry and the poets; of Jeanie Deans, and the Duke of Argyll; of Richmond Hill, and the charms of its far-famed lass; and of "maids of honour"-the chief delicacies of the place,—which, with a carnivorous appetite, we longed to devour. But, as we approached nearer, our thoughts finally fixed themselves upon James Thomson, the delightful bard of "The Seasons," to whose memory the whole place is hallowed. We remembered, and quoted to ourselves, the ode of his friend Collins,

"In yonder grave a Druid lies:

Where slowly winds the stealing wave,
The year's best sweets shall duteous rise
To deck their poet's sylvan grave.

Remembrance oft shall haunt the shore
When Thames in summer wreaths is drest,
And oft suspend the dashing oar,

To bid thy gentle spirit rest."

We were thus musing, when a merry strain broke in upon our meditations. The band which had accompanied the steam-boat from London, struck up the familiar air, "The lass of Richmond Hill;" a custom which has been observed ever since steam-boats have plied in this part of the river, to give us notice that we were at our journey's end.

Without stopping to ascend the hill, we struck at once into the lower parts of the village, and, by dint of inquiry, found ourselves in a few moments in front of the ancient, humble, but, in our eyes, beautiful church of Richmond. We forthwith strolled through the churchyard, in search of the sexton, or doorkeeper, that we might give him his fee, and be admitted into the church. One of the first objects that caught our attention was a neat marble tablet upon the wall, with a medallion head sculptured upon it, and inscribed with the