Fulham, who, in the fourteenth or fifteenth century, "compyled many praty
conceytis in love under covert terms of ffyssyng and ffowlyng;" and which
curious poem may be found printed in a collection of _Ancient Metrical
Tales_, edited by the Rev. Charles Henry Hartshorne. {138}

Two of "some ancient houses, erected in 1595, as appeared by a date on
the truss in the front of one of them," were pulled down at Walham Green
in 1812; after which the important proceedings in the progress of this
village in suburban advancement consisted in the establishment of
numerous public-houses; the filling up of a filthy pond, upon the ground
gained by which act a chapel-of-ease to Fulham, dedicated to St. John,
has been built, after the design of Mr. Taylor, at the estimated expense
of 9683 pounds 17s. 9d. The first stone was laid on the 1st of January,
1827; and it was consecrated by the Bishop of London on the 14th of
August, 1828. This was followed by the building of a charity-school upon
an angular patch of green, or common land, where donkeys had been wont to
graze, and the village children to play at cricket. Then the parish
pound was removed from a corner of the high road, near a basket-maker's,
to a back lane, thereby destroying the travelling joke of "Did you ever
see the baskets sold by the pound?" And, finally, Walham Green has
assumed a new aspect, from the construction of the Butchers' Almshouses,
the first stone of which was laid by the late Lord Ravensworth, on the
1st of July, 1840. Since that time, fancy-fairs and bazaars, with
horticultural exhibitions, have been fashionably patronised at Walham
Green by omnibus companies, for the support and enlargement of this
institution.

"Hail, happy isle! and happier Walham Green!
Where all that's fair and beautiful are seen!
Where wanton zephyrs court the ambient air,
And sweets ambrosial banish every care;
Where thought nor trouble social joy molest,
Nor vain solicitude can banish rest.
Peaceful and happy here I reign serene,
Perplexity defy, and smile at spleen;
Belles, beaux, and statesmen, all around me shine;
All own me their supreme, me constitute divine;
All wait my pleasure, own my awful nod,
And change the humble gardener to the god."

Thus, in the 'London Magazine' for June 1749, did Mr. Bartholomew Rocque
prophetically apostrophise Walham Green,--the "belles, beaux, and
statesmen," by which he was surrounded being new vari