A Lotta Bit of History
London is old. I mean REALLY old. One of the many things I love about it is the history. Everywhere you walk, you are stepping into a rich history be it where the Rolling Stones met the Beatles for the first time (at the Crawdaddy Club which is now One Kew Road in Richmond) or where Queen Katherine Howard was held while she waited her fate at the Tower (Syon House, Brentford).
The local history in West London is plentiful and I always wanted to know more about the 200 year old house I live in. My curiosity could be satisfied at the local archives and Museum of Richmond. It’s the sort of thing you never allow time to do when the weekend comes around — it always seems like there is so much to do on weekends. Things like laundry and grocery shopping. But I am learning A LOT about what we give ourselves time to do. It’s surprising. But more on that later.
The lovely folks at the local archives were friendly and helpful and soon provided stacks of information about the road I live on.
I found photos of the house from the 80s (history?!) as well as the 30s. The main difference, besides the cars, being the iron railing that fronts most of the houses on the street was suddenly missing: salvaged for the war effort in the 40s. Also missing was the grand house on the corner, which fell victim to a bombing raid in the war. Another trip will be required to find older photos, which should exist. We live near a famous old bakery which has been on that site for about as long as the house.
The Museum of Richmond provided more information about the general area including some references to neolithic bits and bobs, the lengend of the Roman crossing at what is Kew Bridge, the invention of viscose nearby, and the connection to regents from Henry I, all the Tudors (it was a favourite of Elizabeth I who died at Richmond Palace), to Charles I and the Cavaliers, King George AND his madness, and Queen Victoria and the Royal Botanical Gardens.
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But yet another surprising coincidence (which seems to follow my journey to this moment in time) is the Lord of the local Manor, which was set up by King Henry III in the 13th century, was a guy called Sir Otto de Grandison. As it happens, he also built the castle at Caernarfon and Harlech in north Wales for his bestie, future King Edward. The later of which is the very castle near my partner’s family cottage. (I reckon it took a lot longer to travel from Kew to Snowdonia in 1300 than the current 4–5 hours.)
A another notable local resident, who resided at Kew Farm, was Henry Norris, the Groom of Henry VIII’s Stool (not what you think) and also Exchequer of North Wales based at Caernarfon Castle (see above). He was executed along with Ann Boleyn for adultery and treason. Our famous bakery nearby, The Maids of Honour, has long been famous for its titular tarts which were according to legend baked for the wedding of Henry VIII and the ill-fated Ann.
On my way home from the archives, I was struck with the enormity of the history that had passed through these streets and wondered what will history remember of this generation? What will the me of tomorrow be researching in the archives?
