Ewell, the name of which is a corruption of the Saxon Ætwelle, signifying the village on the well, so called because it is close to the springs forming the source of a stream known as the Hogsmill, that joins the Thames at Kingston, was but a short time ago a secluded village, but is now rapidly growing into a popular suburb. Unfortunately its characteristic old market-hall has been pulled down, and of the ancient church the tower alone remains, but in its modern successor are preserved several old monuments, tablets, and brasses commemorating residents of days gone by, and in the churchyard are some ancient tombs with curious {160} inscriptions. [Sidenote: Nonsuch Palace] Ewell, however, owes its chief distinction to its nearness to the site of Nonsuch Palace, and the whole surrounding district is full of memories connected with the Tudor sovereigns. Situated in the still sparsely populated parish of Cuddington, that owned a manor-house and church at the time of the Doomsday Survey, the history of which can be traced down to the sixteenth century, the property was acquired in 1539 by Henry VIII., who added it to his Hampton Court estate. With his usual reckless lavishness he resolved to clear away all the existing buildings to make room for a palace that should excel all his other residences. He enclosed sixteen hundred acres as pleasure grounds, and brought down from London a whole army of architects and workmen, under whose auspices quickly rose up a truly beautiful structure, to which the name of Nonsuch was given, because, said its proud owner, it had no equal. It was not quite completed when Henry's career was cut short by death, and his son, Edward VI., seems to have cared nothing for it. He simply handed it over to the care of the then Master of the Revels, Sir Thomas Carwardine, who evidently appreciated it greatly, for the story goes that when Queen Mary came to the throne and instructed him to vacate her palace at Nonsuch, he at first refused to leave it. Indeed, he remained till the royal retainers arrived, and many unseemly quarrels took place between them and their servants about trivial details such as the division of the produce of the royal gardens. There were armed encounters in the park {161} before her majesty took over the custody of the property, to which, however, she was really as indifferent as her brother had been. She actually decided that the best way to save herself from further trouble connected with it would be to pull down the palace and sell the materials. It was saved from this untimely fate only through the generosity of the Earl of Arundel, who for love of his former master, who had taken such pride in it, persuaded the queen to exchange it for certain fair lands in his possession elsewhere. The transfer having been duly arranged, the new owner, as related by his biographer Lyons, proceeded 'fully to finish the house in building, reparations, pavements, and gardens in as