CHURCH OF ST. ALPHAGE-GREENWICH OLD CHURCH.

was left for another age, and to the kindly feelings of Queen Mary, to carry out, in a more meretorious manner, a similar intention, by appropriating, at the suggestion of Sir Christopher Wren, the new palace begun by Charles the Second, on the site of the famed Greenwich Placentia, as an asylum for the aged and disabled seamen of the British navy.

Above the houses we see the handsome spire of the church of St. Alphage, which contains the mortal remains of Wolfe, whose friends lived in a house overlooking the park, near the mansion of the Princess Sophia. Near the hero lies an actress, who was the original Polly Peachum. Gay's opera had a long run, but one night the lady was missing. She had gone off with the Duke of Bolton, who afterwards married her, and she lies in the vaults yonder in death a duchess.

In Greenwich old church, the roof of which fell in in 1710, were numerous monuments to different persons attendant on the courts of Henry VIII. and Queen Elizabeth; the epitaph to one of them, Thomas Tallys, who was "esteemed the father of collegiate music," has been preserved.

"Enterred here doth ly a worthy wyght,

Who for long tyme in musick bore the bell;
His name to shew was Thomas Tallys hyght,
In honest virtuous life he did excell.

He served long tyme in chapell with grete prayse
Fower soverigne's reygnes, a thing not often seen,
I mean Kyng Henry and Prince Edward's dayes,
Quene Mary, and Elizabeth our Quene.
He maryed was, though children he had none,

And lyved in love full three and thirty years;
With loyal spouse, whos name yelipt was Jone,
Who here entombed, him company now bears,
As he did lyve, so also did he dy,

In myld and quyet sort, O! happy man!

To God full oft for mercy did he cry,

Wherefore he lyves, let death do what he can."

Sir Richard Stainer, an admiral who particularly distinguished himself during the protectorate, was also buried in the old church in 1656. With only three frigates he attacked a Spanish flotilla of eight sail, and notwithstanding his disparity of numbers, completely defeated them; he sunk one, burnt a second, drove two on shore, and captured two others, on board of which was treasure to the

THE PENSIONERS-NELSON'S FUNERAL.

amount of £600,000. In the next year he assisted Blake in the destruction of the Spanish flotilla in the Bay of Santa Cruz, "an act so miraculous," says Clarendon, "that all who knew the place, wondered how any man, with what courage soever endowed, could have undertaken it; indeed they could hardly persuade themselves to believe what they had done, whilst the Spaniards comforted themselves with the belief that they were devils and not men who had destroyed their ships."

The pensioners are scarcely more at home in the college than in the park. On the hill we saw them with telescopes, offering for a penny, a "fine sight of London." In the quiet glades we see them wandering about, but generally alone, unless some visiter, in expectation of a tale of "dangers perilous upon the sea," begins a colloquy with one of these ancient mariners. Then opens a store of naval recollections. One has a tale of Duckworth and the Dardanelles; another tells of Collingwood; a third of Stopford; and many delight in descriptions of England's greatest naval hero, Nelson. The funeral of this great captain afforded one of the most striking and most melancholy events in the history of the hospital. His body lay in the Painted Hall the night before its removal to London; and next morning-the wind blowing with fierce fitfulness, every ship upon the river with colours half-mast high, minute guns sounding forth their noisy sorrow, and bells tolling mournfully-Nelson was slowly borne, in a procession of boats, up the stream, to his final resting-place.

The south gate of the park opens upon the heath, where Wat Tyler and Jack Cade both encamped. Here also, on Blackheath, the mayor and aldermen of London and four hundred citizens all clothed in scarlet, with red and white hoods, met the victorious Henry V. on his return from the field of Agincourt, to conduct him in triumph into the capital. Here Cardinal Campeius was received in 1519 as the pope's legate by the high prelates and nobility of the nation with great splendour, and conducted to a tent, where he arrayed himself in his robes to ride in state to London; and here Henry VIII. came from the palace at Greenwich, attended by a magnificent suite, to meet his future bride, Anne of Cleves, who had alighted at a pavilion of cloth of gold prepared for her reception.

BLACKHEATH-THE CAVERN.

Blackheath has frequently been a military station; for, in addition to its occupation on two ocaasions by Jack Cade and Wat Tyler, during their rebellions, Henry VI. after the suppression of the rioters, pitched his tent here to withstand the threatened attacks of his relation, Edward, Duke of York; and Lord Audley, with the Cornish rebels, in number about six thousand, also encamped upon this spot, when Henry VII. giving them battle, two thousand were left dead upon the heath.

About half-way down the hill from Blackheath to Deptford, on the right hand side, is a cavern, having several large irregular chambers hewed in the rock, one of them containing a well. It was discovered some sixty years since, and conjecture has been busy as to its origin and its tenants. Perhaps Druids, perhaps Saxons fleeing from Norman cruelty, perhaps robbers, perhaps all these, one after another, may have used this place of concealment; but nothing being known with certainty, we may choose which suggestion best pleases us, or reject them all. It was, until lately, open to the visits of the curious; but the entrance having been obstructed by the falling of a portion of the roof, it is now shut up. Just above these subterranean chambers, a corner of the heath juts boldly over the town below, thus gaining its name-"The Point." It commands, an extensive view, including the course of the river, the lines of the railroads, and a fine sketch of undulating country closed in by a range of hills.

And now, having seen all worth notice in this our suburban ramble (unless, indeed, it be fair time,-and then that saturnalia may attract attention for a brief half-hour), we once more turn towards London, quitting, well satisfied with our day's excursion, the place which old Dan Chaucer, more than four hundred years ago, described as

“Grenwiche that many a shewe is in.”

TO ELTHAM PALACE.

"The hall, where oft in feudal pride

Old England peers to council came;

When Cressy's field spread far and wide

Edward of Windsor's warlike fame."

ET advantage be taken of one of those mild, sunny days, that usher in the early summer season, with its array of green leaves and gaily tinted flowers,

for a pilgrimage to ELTHAM, literally, "OLD HOME," which for several