Only a deep valley, with Wickham Lane on the track of a Roman road, divides Bostall Wood from Plumstead Common. This is open and breezy, standing high above what was in ancient times the marsh overflowed by the Thames. The greater part is, however, used by the military, and the trample of horse artillery makes it look like a desert. It is a curious effect to see this part of the Common in winter. It has probably been used for manœuvring all the week, and by Saturday afternoon there are pools of mud, and ruts, and furrows, and hoofmarks all over it. On this dreary waste hundreds of boys and young men, sorted according to age, play more or less serious football matches. The coats of the players, in four little heaps, do duty for goal-posts, and these are so thickly strewn over the surface, and the players so closely mingled, that the effect is like bands of savages fighting among their slain--the ancient barrow in the centre of the ground gives colour to the supposition. A sudden deep valley, called “the Slade,” cuts the Common in two. In the hollow there are ponds, and on the high ground beyond stood a windmill, the remains of which are embedded in the Windmill Tavern. The next common west of Plumstead, is Woolwich, maintained by the War Office and given up to military exercises. The extent is 159 acres. It is so much absorbed by the requirements of the War Office that it cannot be classed among London’s playgrounds. Going westward, the next large space is Blackheath, whose history is wrapped up with that of Greenwich, the beautiful Greenwich Park having once been part of the Heath. It is high ground, for the most part bare of trees, and with roads intersecting it--one of them, the old Roman Watling Street. The wild, bare summit of the Heath was a dangerous place for travellers, and many was the highway robbery committed there in times past. It is of very large extent, some 267 acres, and has been effectually preserved for public use, for some thirty-five years, since early in the Seventies. The Heath has played its part in history--gay scenes, such as when the Mayor and aldermen of London flocked, with a great assemblage, to welcome Henry V. after the battle of Agincourt, or more ominous and hostile demonstrations, as when Wat Tyler collected his followers there, or when Jack Cade, some seventy years later, did the same thing. A few fine old eighteenth-century houses still stand on the edge of the Heath, and an avenue, “Chesterfield Walk,” perpetuates the name of one of the distinguished residents. Morden College, at the south-east corner of the Heath, is a fine old building of Wren’s design, founded by Sir John Morden, for merchants trading with the East who, through unforeseen accidents, had lost their fortunes.