Well it's been a slightly frustrating August here in the
Faded London international conglomerate publishing offices. Apart from summer holidays, which are always welcome this time of the year, the whole of the production team were struck down with a malfunctioning camera. Or malfunctioning battery to be precise. Still, having traipsed around various shops the Research department eventually ended up with a replacement from eBay which - so far- seems to have done the job. The resulting flurry of pictures have now overwhelmed the Post -Production team, so best start off September with a short one, to ease our way back into things again...
This particular stop happened last Sunday evening. I'd noticed an old drinking fountain on an external wall of Bushey Park and had decided to make a stop on the way back, which I did and very pleased I was to have done so. It was by a gate into the park and nicely visible on google maps
View Larger MapGetting a bit closer shows it to be a marble drinking trough with some white stone plaque behind it. I don't think it's concrete as I would have thought it would have weathered too quickly. The tap has long since gone but the message is still there.

"August 1889 Erected by Mrs Mary Wilkins of Manor House, Hampton Wick in memory of her son Edward Stanley Wilkins"

The
Twickenham Museum has a nice picture of the Manor House and notes that although the house was demolished in 1937 it was selling off land around it from 1897. No doubt there is a story to be told of how losing her eldest son led to the crumbling of the estate as there was no-one left to take over the reins etc. etc. Well that may be a bit fanciful but it'll do me until a more prosaic explanation turns up.
Manor House (pre 1937!)
That was that I thought, but then a strange object caught the corner of my eye. A magnificent and highly ornate tiled memorial of some sort - tucked behind metal railings and on a patch of scrub. You can see it to the right of the Google image.

In fact the monument is to Timothy Bennet, the Shoemaker of Hampton Wick and commemorates a classic case of the 'little man' taking on the big man and winning! Without wishing to spoil the story for you (you can read it all below) Timothy took exception to the local lord enclosing the park and forcing huge detours on the locals so decided to raise the money to take the Lord to law. Realising he was on a looser the Lord gave in and a public right of way was established across the park known as 'Cobblers Walk'. About 150 years later the locals decided this act was worth commemorating with a suitable monument. Presumable the lord and his descendants being long gone it was considered safe to do so by this point...

Of course a snappy catch phrase or slogan never goes amiss and
"I am unwilling to leave the world worse than I found it" was the phrase associated with Timothy. All credit to him for what he did but I can't help but feel it's not the snappiest or most appropriate epitaph he could have had

Interestingly the
Twickenham Museum has some more information (and what a good site it is), this time about Timothy, not least that he wrote a play commemorating the whole episode. In fact their article concludes with the last scene of his play where he gets back his money and his son can marry after all. Huzzah!
Ben. Well, Deborah! The good cause has triumphed!
Mrs. Ben. Thank God! Dear husband.
Mary. Oh, Uncle Timothy, I'm so glad!
Ben. The justices cut short the trial, and declared the Ranger had no case; so the greater part of the hundred pounds has been returned to me.
Mary. Then Jack and Martha can marry after all! And their wedding procession ought to go the very path that you've opened Uncle.
Ben. No, Mary - no unseemly triumph. And say not that I have opened the path: the laws of England did that for us.
The information plaque says he was willing to spend £700 but the play only mentions £100 so I wonder if his munificence was slightly overstated? £100 is a lot for those days but £700 must have been a fortune for a shoemaker!
Still, for a single brief stop that's a fair bit of history.