Charles Kingsley's Letters Find!

Charles Kingsley (1819-1875), author of the Water Babies plays a significant part in the history of the village of Eversley in North Hampshire.  He was appointed as the curate in 1842 and from 1844 to 1875 was the rector and lived in the Old Rectory, which is where he was living when wrote his famous book, the Water Babies.  He is said to have written part of the Water Babies during a fishing trip when staying at the Plough at Itchen Abbas, (renamed the Trout) which is within sight and sound of the river. 

Kigsley_recory.JPG

 Charles Kingsley's memorial plaque can be found at Eversley church.

kingsley_plaque.jpg 

 

Nearby Bramshill House, built in the 17th century by the builders of Hatfield and Holland House, stands in almost 270 acres of rolling parkland.  It has, according to Arthur Mee's The King's England, Hampshire with the Isle of Wight (1949) been described as a 'noble and mellowed medieval pile'.  Currently being used by the National Policing Improvement Agency (NPIA) the house features in one of Charles Kingsley's essays, and this is reproduced in Mee's book (pages 157-158).


Bramshill House.JPG

 

The essay refers to a story involving one of Kingsley's ancestors, an archbishop named Abbot, whose portrait he is said to have taken great notice of.  During Shakespearian times, Archbishop Abbot, when he was trying his hand at the crossbow, had aimed an arrow at a stag and killed a keeper.  The outcry that followed resulted in the Archbishop being removed from office.

 

'I went the other day to Bramshill Park, the home of the lord of the manor here, Sir John Cope.  And there I saw the very tree where an ancestor of mine, Archbishop Abbot, in James the First's time, shot the keeper by accident!

 

I sat under the tree, and it all seemed to me like a present reality.  I could fancy the noble old man, very different then from his picture as it hangs in our dining-room at Chelsea.  I could fancy the deer sweeping by, and the rattle of the crossbow, and the white splinters sparkling off the fated tree as the bolt glanced and turned - and then the death shriek.  He never smiled again!  And that solemn form always spoke to me, though I did not then know what it meant.

 

It is strange that that is almost the only portrait saved in the wreck of our family.  As I sat under the tree there seemed to be a solemn and remorseful moan in the long branches, mixed with the airy whisper of the lighter leaves that told of present as well as past!'

 

 

Bramshill_Park.JPG

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

6 August 2009 from Cordelia Gray

Leave a comment

All blog posts | feed-icon-10x10 RSS feed

Finds

Recent posts

All blog posts

Help the team

Have you got something to contribute? You can contact us to report your clues and you can comment on our blog posts. It doesn't matter where in the world you are!

See posts tagged with

© Read – The Reading Agency
Company limited by guarantee, registered in England, number 3904882 Registered charity number 1085443. Registered office c/o CW Fellowes, Templars House, Lulworth Close, Chandlers Ford, Hampshire SO53 3TL.