West Hill, Highgate, is associated with several interesting memories.
It was on it that Queen Victoria, in the year after her accession, was
saved from what might have been a very serious accident by the landlord
of the neighbouring Fox and Crown Inn, who arrested the frightened
horses of the royal carriage, at the risk of his own life, as they were
dashing down the steep descent. In West Hill Lodge the poets William
and Mary Howitt lived and worked for several years, and not far from
their old home is Holly Lodge, once the residence of the Duchess of St.
Albans, and long the home of the generous and hospitable Baroness
Burdett-Coutts, a worthy successor of her aristocratic predecessor, who
{37} built in Swain's Lane hard by a group of model cottages known as
Holly Village.
In the picturesque cottage opposite to the chief entrance to the
grounds of Holly Lodge the philanthropist Judge Payne died in 1870;
David Williams, founder of the Royal Literary Fund, and Dr. Rochemond
Barbauld, husband of the authoress, were at different times ministers
of the Presbyterian chapel in Southwood Lane; and on the site of the
once notorious Black Dog Tavern, on the hill going down to Holloway,
are the chapel and home of the Passionist Fathers, from which, instead
of the ribald songs of drunken revellers, perpetual prayers now go up
for the restoration of England to the mother church of Rome.
[Sidenote: Hornsey]
Little now remains of the beautiful forests which were for many
centuries one of the most distinctive characteristics of the northern
heights of London, though there are still some unenclosed portions of
the vast estate that belonged to the Bishop of London, such as Highgate
and Caen Woods, where it is possible to forget for a time the near
neighbourhood of the ever-growing towns of Hampstead and Highgate.
Equally rapid has been the transformation of the two mother parishes of
Hendon and of Hornsey, that from isolated picturesque villages have
grown into suburbs of the great metropolis. The latter especially
retains scarcely anything to recall the days when it was a favourite
summer retreat of the Bishop of London, who had a palace in the park of
Haringay, as it was called, until the time of Elizabeth, on Lodge Hill,
on the outskirts of {38} what later became the property of Lord
Mansfield. The little forest hamlet of Haringay, in which the bishop's
retainers used to live, was probably situated in the heart of the wood,
now replaced by Finsbury Park, and its one inn, pulled down so recently
as 1866, became in course of time first a noted tea-house, and later a
place of resort of the aristocracy, who used to practise
pigeon-shooting in its garden.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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