Do not think, however, that this gateway is the only relic of More’s mansion; for the persevering prowler may find still another, well worth the search. Where King’s Road curves about to Millman’s Street—known on the old maps of those days as the Lovers’ Walk, “A Way to Little Chelsea”—an ancient gateway gave entrance to More’s back garden and stables, and through it we may now pass into the Moravian Burial Ground. Here, in the peacefullest spot in all London, lie in rows, men and women on opposite sides, our Moravian brothers and sisters, “departed,” as their little headstones, in their touching simplicity, tell us. Grass grows above them, great trees guard them; trees perhaps planted by More himself. For this was part of the “very fine gardens” which Bowack speaks of; and that massive wall at the farther end was built in the century which saw the Armada. In among the gardens of the houses beyond, may be found other bits of wall; all built of very narrow bricks, such as we trace in More’s chapel in Chelsea Old Church; bricks made only then, peculiar to that period, not seen since. This largest piece we are looking at is still solid enough, though bulging here and there with its weight of over three hundred years, its bricks black with age and smoke; here are the traces of beams once set in it, here is a bit of an archway, there the remains of a fireplace. Thomas More’s arm rested on this wall: it is part of him, and he mutely bequeaths it to our care. It is well that we should claim salvage for this bit of wreckage thrown upon the beach of Time, with his mark upon it. The little brick cottage of the keeper of the graveyard is overrun with vines, and answers to the assurance of the antiquity of all within the enclosure. The long low building of one room formerly serving as the Moravian Chapel is now used for a Sunday School. As I glance through the windows in this Sunday sunset I see boys wriggling on board benches, struggling with big Bible names, and mad for the fresh air and the freedom outside; one belated boy, trying at the locked gate, does not look unhappy at being refused entrance. There are memorial tablets on the chapel walls; one of them bears the name of “Christian Renatus, Count of Zinzendorf”; another that of “Maria Justina, Countess Reuss.” These were the son and daughter of the great Zinzendorf; and to tell how these came here I must give you the story of another great Chelsea mansion, Lindsey House. {57} [Picture: The Houses at Chelsea]