A Talk by Nicholas Schofield

At first glance, Frayslea, a modern residential close just off Cowley Road, seems of limited interest. The terraced houses and flats are typical of the 1960s; residents complain of the difficulty with parking; front gardens are maintained to varying standards. It is, nevertheless, a friendly place, as cul-de-sacs often are; neighbours can often be seen chatting to one another in a way that is untypical for London. It is convenient for Uxbridge town centre, a short walk away, and the large Lidl just round the corner. 

Yet beneath the tarmac there are surprising secrets. Look more closely and there are clues to a past grandeur. There are stretches of brick wall along the main road that obviously predate the 1960s. Some of the trees look well-established, including a magnificent cypress at the corner, and sweet chestnuts with preservation orders. Unusually, there are two large grassy areas – we could even call them ‘lawns’ – which have never been tarmacked. Behind some of the houses is the Frays River and two islands, now heavily wooded. And a stone’s throw away is Hogarth Close (a significant name, as we shall see), with buildings that date to the late seventeenth century and were once used as stables and a coach house.  

Frayslea was the site of a country house, Cowley Grove. It was the last house of Uxbridge, lying near the parish boundary with Cowley, and some of its residents take us to the very heart of the cultural world of Georgian London.   

Although Uxbridge was never particularly fashionable, it is no surprise that wealthy Londoners saw it as a good place for their country retreats, situated near important roads, rivers and canals, and in the vicinity of the court at Windsor. A traveller from West Drayton to Uxbridge two centuries ago would have passed through pleasant meadows and fields, and several elegant cottages and houses. Three buildings on the Cowley Road (or ‘Cowley Street’ as it was called) particularly stood out, each with interesting artistic connections.  

Cowley Hall exists no longer and is now the site of a Recreation Ground. In its heyday, though, the artist J. M. W. Turner would come to stay with his friend, Thomas Rose, and fish on the river.  

Next was Cowley House, the home of the prominent Hilliard family; writing in 1884, Edward Walford noted its ‘fine collection of family pictures, including two by Gainsborough.’

Then, close by, was Cowley Grove. When the property was on the market in 1911 it was described as ‘lying back from the road and concealed therefrom by a high brick wall, which extends along the whole frontage of about 675 feet to the main road. The comfortable Old Family Residence, erected in the commodious style of over 200 years ago, contains ample accommodation, good stabling, double coach-house and living rooms, Gardener’s Cottage, exceptionally beautiful gardens, lawns, etc. The charming River Frays intersects and bounds the property. The total area extends to approximately THIRTEEN ACRES.’

An advert of a century before gives some additional insights into the old property: stabling for sixteen horses, a ‘Hot house fully planted with vines in the highest perfection’, 30 acres of meadow, tastefully laid out Pleasure Grounds, and a ‘capital Kitchen Garden, with every Crop for the Season, inclosed by lofty Walls covered with the choicest Fruit Trees.’ The waters running through were ideal for trout fishing.

These maps produced by the Ordnance Survey in 1886 show the house and its grounds. To the north of the property was Cowley or Rabbs Mill, on the junction of Cowley Road and the modern Cowley Mill Road, one of several such mills on the Frays River. First mentioned in 1636, it probably dated from the middle ages and experienced severe fires in 1898 and then in 1928 – the buildings on this occasion were still smouldering a week later and the mill was never rebuilt. Hale Hamilton have operated on the site since 1947. At the bottom of this map you can see the upper section of the grounds of Cowley Grove, with its trees and lawns, a bridge to one of the islands and a boat house. 

Little is known of its construction and early residents. The house may have been built as early as 1680. A monument at St John’s, Hillingdon, commemorates one of them, Thomas Lane (1681-1746), a wealthy linen draper in Hampstead ‘of a family resident at Cowley Grove,’ who ‘having acquired a fortune by constant application and unspotted integrity in business, retired and spent the remainder of his life in doing good.’ According to the antiquarian Daniel Lysons, writing in 1800, the house was ‘for several generations the property of the Lane family, from which it devolved to the Rev. Richard Harrington, the present proprietor,’ who was the Rector of Powderham in Devon and Thomas’ great-nephew. It was he who erected the monument to Thomas in Hillingdon church. However, there is little evidence of Lanes or Harringtons actually residing at Cowley Grove for long periods, and Thomas Lane may simply have chosen to be buried near his childhood home. Another member of the family, John Lane (1745-91), is described on his tomb as ‘a Gentleman of the parish of Hillingdon’ with extensive property in the area as well as in Lancashire and Lincolnshire. He rescued one Toby Pleasant (d.1784) from slavery in the West Indies and brought him to Hillingdon as a free man and servant; he too is buried in the churchyard of St John’s.

Barton Booth 

During the eighteenth century, Cowley Grove was the country home of two famous actors and theatrical managers: Barton Booth (1681-1733) and John Rich (1692-1761). In order to understand their lives, however, we need to remind ourselves of some basics about the eighteenth century London theatre. Performances had been banned during the 1640s and 50s, and restored by Charles II in 1660, though with strict controls – comedies, mimes and dances could be freely performed but only those theatre companies with a royal patent could produce ‘serious’ dramas.  

Initially two patents were granted: to Thomas Killigrew who founded the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane, and William Davenant, who established a theatre at Lincoln’s Inn Fields. In 1766 the Theatre Royal Haymarket was granted a summer patent for the performance of plays. Alongside these restrictions, in 1737 a Licensing Act was introduced, which meant the Lord Chamberlain censored plays on the grounds of politics and morality – a way of cracking down on anti-government polemic on the stage. This continued to be the case until 1968. From 1843, however, the need for patented theatres was removed and there was a mushrooming of playhouses in London and beyond.

The post-Restoration theatre was a vibrant place, where people went to drink, socialise and flirt, as much as watch the performances. For the first time, actresses could be seen on stage, as well as ingenious new methods of changeable scenery. 

The first theatrical resident of Cowley Grove was Barton Booth (1682-1733), who owned the property until its sale in 1727. Originally from Lancashire, Booth was well-connected in society. His father was the Dean of Bristol and his maternal grandfather had been Lord Chief Justice of Ireland; the family also had connections with the Earl of Warrington. Educated at Westminster School, his father hoped he would follow in his footsteps as a clergyman. However, the young Barton developed a great love for poetry and the stage. He won much praise for his part in one of the school’s Latin plays, Andria, and in later life could pick up a classics book at random from his shelves and translate it into English. It seems that he began studies at Trinity College, Cambridge but, according to one version of the story, ran away with a troop of players around 1698 and ended up treading the boards in Dublin. His debut was as the royal slave Oronooko, in the play of that name by Aphra Behn (a pioneering female playwright). It almost turned into farce when, just before the final scene, he inadvertently touched his face and wiped off much of the lamp-oil that had darkened his face. He was greeted with roars of laughter. The next night he wore a blackened mask, which duly fell off. Nevertheless, his performance was considered a triumph.

Booth would become the leading tragic actor in the period between the death of Thomas Betterton (1710) and the debut of David Garrick (1741). He was reconciled with his family, who had initially been disappointed by his career choices, and sought fame and fortune in London. He joined Betterton’s company at Lincoln’s Inn (1700-04) and Haymarket (1705-10) and then, from 1710, took many leading roles at Drury Lane, at first in association with Aaron Hill (with whom he often disagreed). Here Booth acted for some twenty years and he eventually became a joint patentee (along with Thomas Doggett, Robert Wilks and Colley Cibber). 

Becoming a patentee or manager was a Crown appointment and Booth could draw upon his family connections, his Tory sympathies and his friendship with the powerful Lord Bolingbroke. Nevertheless, his opponents tried to keep him occupied on the London stage so that he had little time to go to Windsor and seek patronage; nevertheless, Booth kept a carriage with six strong horses allowing him to travel from the West End to Windsor (a distance of 20 miles) in three hours. He boasted that not one nobleman had as many sets of horses at his disposal: ‘the first set carrying him to Hounslow from London, ten miles; and the next set ready waiting with another chariot to Windsor.’

Of course, it is difficult to appreciate the skills of long dead thespians, who have left no photographic or film record. According to his biographer Benjamin Victor,  ‘He was of a Form altogether Graceful, accompanied with an Air that gave the highest Dignity to all his Gestures…His Voice had great Strength in it, and a Tone uncommonly musical. His Articulation was so exceedingly distinct and clear, that he could be heard to the furthest Part of the Theatre, even in a Whisper.’

His most famous role was in the title role in Addison’s Cato; it was also said that his ghost in Hamlet could not be bettered.

He married twice: first, to Frances Barkham, the daughter of a Norfolk baronet and then, following her death, to a beautiful actor and dancer, Hester Santlow (1690-1773). She had possibly previously been in a relationship with the Duke of Marlborough, the victor of Blenheim, and with a rising politician, James Craggs, to whom she bore a daughter, Harriet. Booth himself had been seeing Susanna Mountfort, a fellow actor, and his marriage apparently ‘threw his Mistress into a violent Fit of Sickness, so that she took to drinking, which, some say, kill’d her: however, ‘tis certain she did not long survive his Marriage.^‘ George Anne Bellamy, who recorded a visit to Cowley Grove in her indiscreet memoirs, claimed that the house had been given to Booth by Mrs Mountfort, though there is no evidence for this.

The Booths would probably have used Cowley Grove mainly between late May or early June and early September as a summer residence, since they would have been busy performing at the Drury Lane Theatre the rest of each year. Given their connections with high society, they almost certainly would have entertained a variety of guests each summer – but sadly no evidence has yet come to light. 

According to one writer, ‘Mr Booth was the most indulgent Husband in the World,’ and ‘they lived together in that Tranquility, which ought to (but seldom does) attend the married State.’ Hester, who helped wean him off his heavy drinking, is worthy of mention in her own right as a performer and England’s ’first’ ballerina. According to the dancing master, John Essex, ‘we have had a great many Women attempt to be Theatrical Dancers, but none have ever arrived to that Height and Pitch of Applause as the incomparable Mrs Booth, in whom Art and Nature are so beautifully wove together…She far excels all that went before, and must be the just Subject of Imitation to all the dare attempt to copy after her.’

Her long career spanned 27 years and included many different types of dance, both serious and comic. Something of her fame is reflected in the fact that three successive monarchs watched her perform at Drury Lane (Queen Anne, George I and II) and (unusually for a dancer) four portraits survive of her. She inspired her husband to write some delightful poems. One, an Ode on Mira, Dancing, describes her graceful movements: 

Whether her easy Body bend,  

Or her fair Bosom heave with Sighs;  

Whether her graceful Arms extend,  

Or gently fall, or slowly rise;  

Or returning, or advancing;  

Swimming round, or sidelong glancing;  

Gods! how divine an Air  

Harmonious Gesture gives the Fair!

After his retirement, Booth’s health declined. In May 1733 he sought advice from a prominent London doctor, Thomas Dover, who prescribed him mercury. He ingested 2 pounds of the element and died within a week, on 10 May. It became a cause celebre and a detailed account of his suffering was published, leading to a decline in the use of mercury.  

In his will, Booth asked to be buried in the churchyard at Cowley and one morning his body was brought there from his house in Charles Street, Covent Garden, ‘attended by six gentlemen who supported the Pall.’

Half a century later his widow was still alive and erected a monument to him in no less a location than Poet’s Corner in Westminster Abbey (1773). She died shortly afterwards and was buried beside her husband (and her mother) at St Lawrence’s. A further memorial to Booth lies behind the Abbey: two streets developed by Booth, called Barton Street and Cowley Street. Though some have attributed the choice of the latter name to Booth’s admiration of the poet Abraham Cowley, it seems likely that it was a homage to the Middlesex village that was his country home. 

It should be mentioned that Hester, despite her humble origins and the fact her only child was born out of wedlock, has an impressive list of descendants. Her eldest grandson was created Baron Eliot (1784) and his son Earl of St Germans (1815). Another grandson, John Hamilton, inherited the title of Earl of Abercom (1789) and was created Marquess of Abercorn the following year. His grandson became a Duke – and through the inter-connections of the British aristocracy, the humble dancer buried at St Lawrence’s, Cowley is the 7-times great-grandmother of Princess Diana, who herself wanted so much to be a ballerina, and therefore 8-times great-grandmother of a future King. 

Talking of ancestry, it has been claimed that Booth was an ancestor of the famous American Booth family of actors. Certainly, Edwin Thomas Booth, considered by some as the greatest nineteenth century Hamlet, hoped that to be the case. Despite bearing a resemblance to Barton’s effigy in Westminster Abbey, genealogical enquiry proved inconclusive. Such a connection would be a mixed blessing since Edwin’s brother, John Wilkes Booth, also an actor, is best known for assassinating Abraham Lincoln during a performance at Ford’s Theatre, Washington D.C., in 1865.

John Rich  

By the time of Booth’s death, John Rich was living at Cowley Grove – he had probably bought the property in 1727. Born in 1692, his family had West Country roots; one great-great-uncle, Simon Venn, had been one of the signatories of Charles I’s death warrant. His father, Christopher, was a prominent theatre manager and when he died suddenly in 1714, John (together with his brother) took over direction of the theatre at Lincoln’s Inn Fields, which was then being reconstructed. John became the dominant partner, spending much of his career producing performances, managing actors (who he is said to have paid promptly and treated fairly), fighting his rivals – especially, in time, the great David Garrick at Drury Lane – and dealing with the censors of the Lord Chamberlain’s department.

Rich became particularly well-known for his staging and special effects. He used leading artists and may have used the Uxbridge carpenter, Stephen Gom (d.1753), and his sons: Terry Jenkins, Rich’s biographer, suggests that ‘the large items of scenery that Rich required were constructed at the Gom workshops in Uxbridge, and they were also responsible for their subsequent operation in the theatre.’

Alexander Pope refers to Rich’s showmanship in one of his poems: 

Immortal Rich! how calm he sits at ease 
Mid snows of paper, and fierce hail of pease; 
And proud his mistress’ orders to perform, 
Rides in the whirlwind, and directs the storm.

Perhaps his most successful commission was John Gay’s satirical The Beggar’s Opera, debatedly the most popular production of the time – lampooning political figures such as Robert Walpole, as well as celebrity criminals such as Jack Shepherd and Jonathan Wild. The ballad opera ran for 62 consecutive performances, which was almost unheard of, and, it was said, it made Rich very Gay, and Gay very Rich. 

Rich himself was a talented actor, mime artist and acrobat, appearing under the stage name of ‘Lun’ and particularly associated with introducing pantomime into this country – which may come as a surprise, since panto appears a uniquely English phenomenon. The writer Max Beerbohm even claimed (with tongue firmly in cheek) that pantomime is the only art form ever invented in England. It actually derived from the Italian commedia dell’arte (literally, comedy of the artists) which developed among travelling performers in the sixteenth century. Distinctive costumes and masks denoted the various stock characters: foolish, lecherous old men (like Pantalone), young lovers (the Innamorati), and servants (including Arlecchino, with his distinctive dress made up of coloured diamond-shapes). 

Rich transformed Arlecchino into the character of Harlequin, and made the role his own. Harlequin became a mischievous magician who was easily able to evade Pantaloon and his servants to woo the beautiful Columbine. Harlequin used his bat or “slapstick” to not only beat other characters but transform the staging during chase scenes, giving the illusion of different locations. During his management, Rich developed pantomime as an art form in its own right, proving particularly popular at Christmas. 

Rich was able to build a new theatre in Covent Garden, on land leased from the Duke of Bedford. Designed by Edward Shepherd, the Theatre Royal was opened on 7 December 1732, with John Rich being carried by his actors in triumph for a performance of Congreve’s The Way of the World. The venue was used largely for plays, although there were musical productions, notably by George Frederick Handel.

Many of his operas and oratorios were written for Covent Garden or had their first London performances there, including Ariodante, Alcina, Judas, Maccabeus, Solomon and Jephtha. Indeed, Handel bequeathed his organ to John Rich, who had looked after him at a challenging moment in his career, and it was placed in a prominent position on the stage. Unfortunately, it was among many items lost in a fire that destroyed the theatre in 1808. It was rebuilt and the Royal Opera House now stands on the site – all thanks to John Rich of Cowley! 

Rich was criticized by detractors for his lowly, uneducated (even illiterate) background; surely his vulgar pantomimes or productions like The Beggar’s Opera could hardly compare with the plays of Shakespeare, which they threatened in the popularity stakes.

Yet he was a successful businessman, with contacts among the great and the good. Along with his scenic artist, George Lambert, he established the Sublime Society of Beef Steaks in 1735, a club for two dozen members of the theatre and arts community. According to tradition it started with the beef dinners that Lambert had provided in the theatre Painting Room during busy periods of activity. The Society became much celebrated; long after Rich’s death, its members included the future George IV and Samuel Johnson. Members wore a blue coat and buff waistcoat with brass buttons bearing a gridiron motif and the words ‘Beef and liberty.’ Meeting weekly at Covent Garden Theatre, members enjoyed – as the named suggested – steak, onions and baked potatoes, washed down with port or porter, and followed by toasted cheese.

What of Rich the man? Like his stage persona, he remains elusively behind a mask; much of what was written about him was produced by his critics. He was undoubtedly wealthy and well-connected – even being able to commission a ‘pleasure barge’ called the Augusta to present to the Prince of Wales on his birthday in 1755. He was an astute businessman, a kindly employer, a benefactor to charity, and something of an eccentric.

The Irish actress, Peg Woffington, recalled visiting him in his London house on Bloomsbury Square and finding him reclining him on a couch, sipping tea, and ’round him, upon him, and about him were seven-and-twenty Cats of different sixes, Ages and Complexions. Some were staring him in the Face, some eating the Toast and Butter out of his Mouth, some licking the Cream out of his Cup, some frisking about, some lying down, some perched upon his Knee, some upon his Head.’

Rich owned a set of race-horses and won prizes at Epsom, Newmarket and elsewhere. It is possible that this inspired his choice of Uxbridge as a home, since it had large enough grounds and was near various hunts and race courses.  

Rich married three times: first to Henrietta Brerewood (1717), who bore him one son who died as an infant; then to Amy, the mother of seven of his children: two sons and five daughters. She died in November 1737 and was buried at St John’s, Hillingdon.  His third wife was Priscilla Wilford, a minor actress in the Covent Garden Company under the stage name of Mrs Stevens who, it was rumoured, had been a barmaid and, when her theatrical career failed to ignite, became Rich’s housekeeper and (from 1744) wife. She fell under the influence of Methodism and became a religious enthusiast. Tobias Smollett commented (rater unfairly, perhaps): ‘the poor man’s head, which was not naturally very clear, had been ordered with superstition, and he laboured under the tyranny of a wife and the terror of hell-fire at the same time.’ 

John Rich is described by one contemporary as ‘an obliging neighbour, a hospitable country gentleman, and a very kind landlord. He took great delight in promoting and celebrating, at his own expense, the weddings of his young tenants, and making the new-married pairs happy.’

The gardens were particularly famed, with their islands and rivers. It has even been claimed that they were designed by the famous artist, William Hogarth – this is certainly the boast made by Benjamin Williams, the then owner, when he was visited by the author J. Bernard Burke in the early 1850s.

The artist was a friend of Rich: he was a founder member of the Beefsteak Club and Hogarth is recorded as visiting Cowley Grove in 1753 with Thomas Morrell, who wrote the librettos for seven of Handel oratorios. We are told that while travelling back to London, Hogarth ‘stopped his chariot [sic], and got out, being struck by a large drawing (with a coal) on the wall of an alehouse. He immediately made a sketch of it with triumph; it was a St. George and the Dragon, all in strait lines.’ Rich owned several of his paintings, including a version of the famous Beggar’s Opera, which is now in the Paul Mellon Collection at the Yale Centre for British Art (did it once hang in Cowley Grove?). It is believed that Rich himself is one of the figures in the background. Moreover, one of the rooms in the house had a painted ceiling, with an image of Pomona, the goddess of abundance and plenty, carrying a basket of fruit and flowers. At the time of the house’s demolition in 1967, the Hillingdon Mirror excitedly surmised that the image had been created by Hogarth himself; it was taken away by the GLC, never to be heard of again.

Another painting believed to be by Hogarth depicted John Rich and his family in the gardens at Cowley. It was certainly commissioned by Rich but its whereabouts is unknown and several paintings (including this one) have been wrongly identified as it. 

John Rich of Cowley Grove died in 1761 and was buried in an ornate tomb in the churchyard of St John’s, beside his second wife and other members of his family.  He was one of the most significant figures in our theatre history – without him there would debatedly be no Covent Garden and no Christmas panto. According to Berta Joncus and Jeremy Barlow:  ‘He irrevocably changed the works and nature of the London stage’s staple repertory; he shaped theatrical fashion with French and Italian imports; he turned eighteenth century scenography into a forum for lavish experiments; he helped turned round Handel’s waning fortunes…A pioneering entrepreneur who founded Covent Garden, Rich was a midwife at the births of British pantomime, of commercially driven musical theatre, and of the century’s revival of Shakespeare. Britain’s modern theatrical world strongly bears his mark.’

It is interesting that another prominent manager of the Covent Garden Theatre – Thomas Harris, who took over direction in 1774 – lived at Belmont House. Such was his omnipresence that he was known as ‘Jupiter’ and he commissioned a series of twenty portraits of famous actors of his time from Gainsborough Dupont (nephew of the more famous Gainsborough), which once hung at Uxbridge. 

Nineteenth Century Residents 

Following these famous thespians, there were many other residents at Cowley Grove, either as owners or tenants. (They included Henry Michael Evans, General Tatton, David Anstruther, Henry Champernoune and members of the Lane family.

There are links with our often-hidden Black History. One Cowley Grove resident, Ellis Wolfe, originally from Kent, was of a Jewish background and owned property and plantations in Jamaica, including part of the Mullet Hall Estate. In his will of 1817, he left his wife ‘all my Plate, Jewels, Watches, household furniture, Silver, China, horses, Carriages, slaves and stock of whatever kind and description.’

Another resident, this time in the 1820s, was Thomas Hopkinson, a man of colour (presumably of mixed race) who had studied at Trinity College, Cambridge and owned estates in British Guiana (Demerara). He is described as ‘a gentleman of high respectability and was well known on the turf, and in all the high sporting circles.’ A court case in 1828 convicted one George Barrow, another ’man of colour’, of pretending to be Hopkinson during one of his absences abroad (after losing £30,000 on the horses) and, among other things, fraudulently collecting a suit that had been made for him at a tailor’s just off Hanover Square. The poor man was sentenced to seven years transportation.

From 1830 Cowley Grove was the seat of the Williams family, originally of Welsh descent and with a large property in the parish of Bampton (Oxfordshire). Thomas (1773-1851) moved to the Grove from Camden Hill, Kensington, and the Bucks Herald reported in 1850 that he ‘distributed his annual Christmas present of three fat sheep amongst his poorer neighbours. A good old English custom. How worthy of imitation.’ He died the following year and when John Bernard Burke visited Cowley Grove while compiling his Visitation of the Seats and Arms of the Noblemen of Great Britain (1852), he was hosted by the eldest son, Benjamin. He was a Fellow of the Society of Antiquaries, ’known to the literary world as having discovered in the Continental libraries several MS chronicles relating to the reigns of Richard II and Henry V, which he collated and presented to the Royal Historical Society.’ He was also a J. P. and Captain in the Oxfordshire Militia. His brother, Joshua (1813-81) was a prominent and popular barrister, an expert on property law. At 6 feet 4 ½ inches tall, must have been an imposing local figure.

A Sikh General 

Cowley Grove was let out in 1868 by the then proprietor, Mrs Griffiths. The Buckinghamshire Advertiser announced an auction of ‘a valuable and choice collection of greenhouse plants and ferns &c,…a pair of handsome phaeton horses,’ pigs, cows, ‘a rick of excellent meadow hay,’ an orchid house, ‘a double-seated basket pony carriage,’ and garden and stables equipment.

The new resident was General Henry Charles Van Cortlandt C.B. (c.1814-1888), a retired soldier who had spent much of his life in northwestern India. He was the son of an English colonel and Indian mother; after being educated in England, he returned to India in 1832 to join the Sikh army of Maharaja Ranjit Singh. The image depicts Ranjit Singh riding a white stallion bedecked with gold chains and jewels. He is surrounded by royal insignia, such as the parasol and weapons wrapped in cloth.

Known as the ‘Lion of the Punjab’, the Maharaja had managed to unite the various regions of north-western India into a Sikh Empire and formed a highly trained army (Khalsa) organised on western lines and including not only Sikhs but Muslims, Hindus and Europeans – mostly French and Italians, but several British subjects, including Van Cortlandt. The Sikh Army expanded massively: from around 35,000 troops in the 1820s to over 100,000 by 1845.  

Van Cortlandt rose quickly in Sikh service and was highly favoured by the Maharajah. Already in 1832 Ranjit Singh had presented him with a precious rifle, which he presumably treasured and eventually brought back to England with him. Was it once displayed at Cowley Grove? It was sold at Christies for £46,000 in 2012. He was also presented with a sword, and a magnificent portrait, seemingly painted by the court artist and presented by the General’s granddaughter to the Victoria and Albert Museum in 1955.

Van Cortlandt participated in several campaigns, including the battle of Jamrud (1837), during which the Sikh garrison at this fortress on the mouth of the Khyber Pass managed to resist the attack of the Afghans, despite the death of their commander (Hari Singh Nalwa). After Ranjit Singh’s death in 1839, there was a period of anarchy and a quick succession of maharajas – many of whom were assassinated. For a time, Maharaja Sher Singh placed Van Cortlandt in charge of his eldest son; but when he was called away on duty, the maharaja and his son were both murdered.   

Ranjit Singh had maintained cautiously friendly relations with the British, while building up military resources to deter their territorial expansion. However, the vacuum after his death gave the British both an opportunity and grounds for concern. With the lack of stable leadership, the Sikh Army had become an alternative power base and increasingly saw itself as the embodiment of the Sikh nation

Tensions rose and at the end of 1845 the First Anglo-Sikh War broke out. Van Cortlandt’s movements are unclear during this period; as a former Sikh officer, he was probably regarded by the British with some suspicion, though at some stage he transferred to their service.

With a new British-led administration of the Punjab (though the region was not yet annexed), Van Cortlandt was given the rank of General and appointed to supervise the Dera Ismail Khan district. He commanded one of the columns sent into the Bannu province in 1847, settling local feuds, demolishing forts, as well as improving the infrastructure. The following year the Second Anglo-Sikh War broke out, following the murder of two senior British officers. Van Cortlandt was closely involved in the initial operations and so was his formidable wife, Susannah Turner, who accompanied a force that was setting out from Bannu for Moltan to fight the rebels and showed a reluctance to follow British orders: ‘she had the guns accompanying them turned on the recalcitrant Sikhs and Mohammedans, who thereupon obeyed orders and went back to Bannu.’

Though largely forgotten by historians, Van Cortlandt played an important role and was respected for his knowledge of the Sikhs. On one occasion he was present when the British officers (under Herbert Edwardes) was visited by the Sikh commander, Shere Singh. We read:  ‘Van Cortlandt, who was sitting at the foot of the table and had long experience of handling Sikhs, immediately smelled a rat, slipped out and collected a number of loyal Pathans, with whom he surrounded the tent. He then came back and tried to convey to Shere Singh exactly what he had done. The latter looked rather embarrassed and shortly afterwards took his departure. Edwardes and Van Cortlandt felt that there had been a plot to seize Edwardes and his officers and carry them off, presumably as hostages…’

The Punjab was annexed at the end of the war and Van Cortlandt was thanked for his loyal service and formally received into the British service.  On the outbreak of the Mutiny in May 1857, he raised Sikhs for service, a unit which subsequently became the 31st Bengal Infantry (1861) – with whom the young Winston Churchill was briefly attached in the mid-1890s (at the Siege of Malakind, 1895-97). At the head of the Levy, and in command of the Hurriana Field Force, he defeated bodies of rebels northwest of Delhi. According to papers presented to Parliament, ‘it is well known how successful General Van Cortlandt was, and how by his prudence, temper, and good management he justified the trust that had been reposed on him.’

At the end of October Van Cortlandt was gazetted ‘temporary Colonel in the Army during such period as he might continue in command of the irregular levies he had raised’. He was named a Companion of the Bath. in recognition of ‘his eminently useful services,’ and served in various administrative capacities until returning to England in March 1868. Van Cortlandt had three daughters, all of whom married British officers, and two sons, one of whom died an infant in India. He eventually died at his London residence, 10 Onslow Crescent, South Kensington, on 15 March 1888. 

A Royal Connection 

General Van Cortlandt was succeeded at the Grove in the mid-1880s by another army officer with Indian connections: Colonel Leopold James Henry Grey (1847-91), formerly of the Bengal Staff Corps and a veteran of the Afghan War of 1880-81.

He was followed at the property by Lady Frances Margaret (‘Fanny’) Howard (1817-94), daughter of the 16^th Earl of Suffolk. She had served at Court as Lady of the Bedchamber to the Duchess of Kent, the mother of Queen Victoria. The two had once a famously strained relationship, Victoria finding her mother domineering, but they drew closer together once the Queen had settled into her reign and had her own children. The Duchess lived at Frogmore House for the final twenty years of her life and died in March 1861, just nine months before Albert. Victoria was greatly affected by her mother’s passing and touched by the many ‘relics’ of her childhood that she had treasured.  

The Queen referred to Lady Fanny in her Diaries as ‘Mamma’s Lady.’ They kept in touch with each other; though there is no evidence that the Queen visited Cowley Grove, she certainly drove out to her previous residence at Runnymede Lodge, near Egham, in March 1887. A few days later she was at Windsor: ‘L^y Fanny Howard dined with us. She is always so pleased to come, & so clever & agreeable.’

Lady Fanny lived at Cowley Grove for five years. She died at the house on 11 November 1894 and the Queen herself sent flowers to the funeral, which took place at Norwood Cemetery. Her faithful butler, who delighted in the name of Onesimus Buckingham, was left an annuity; he was a well-known Uxbridge figure and a regular attender at the Wesleyan Chapel. His health apparently took a turn for the worse after his mistress’s demise and he died the following year. 

Moving into the twentieth century, the Grove was home to a noted surgeon, Dr Andrew Clark (1847-1913), who did much work also in the Territorial Army (he took part in the Suakin expedition of 1885). He acted as Vice President of the British Medical Association and was appointed Honorary Surgeon to King Edward VII. 

Throughout this period, Cowley Grove was not only a private residence but its beautiful grounds were used for various local events. Perhaps not surprisingly, given that several residents had military backgrounds, the grounds were used for occasional drills and displays by the Rifle Volunteers. In September 1887 ‘a night attack with blank cartridges was made by a portion of the Company representing an enemy upon another portion who formed the defenders, and were posted in a line of sentries, with picket, facing west…[T]he effect of the rifle fire among the trees in the darkness of the evening was very pretty.’

The grounds were also used for sports events and fetes. On the August Bank Holiday of 1890, a fete included a tug of war competition, bicycle handicap and musical ride from a detachment of the 12^th Royal Lancers. Around 5,000 are believed to have attended. Local Anglican and Methodist churches would use the grounds for their Sunday School summer treats, the children typically ‘marching’ there, led by a band, and spending several happy hours punting on the river, playing football, taking part in races, donkey rides and other games, and enjoying tea. Cowley Grove was also a popular venue for football matches: in February 1909, for example, Uxbridge St Peter’s played Uxbridge St Margaret’s there, winning 3-1.

By the time of his death in 1913, Dr Clark was living at Folkestone and had placed Cowley Grove on the market. It was bought by William Edward Heath (1868-1946), whose biography reads like a from rags to riches story. Born at Richings Park in 1868, he worked, like his father, as a coachman – at The Chestnuts on Honeycroft Hill and then at Cowley House, when it was leased by Louisa, the Dowager Countess of Essex. He began repairing bicycles in his spare time but was sacked by the Countess when she found this out. He regarded this as a great injustice as it was his hobby and had not interfered with his duties. He borrowed money from his father and bought land at what is now 254 Cowley Road, where he built a house and shop for a bicycle business – his products proved popular, including a bicycle known as the Cowley Gem.  He went to purchase other properties in the area: The Cedars, The Old Cottage at Cowley Peachey, Cowley House (where he had once been a servant and which he divided into flats), and Cowley Grove. The old coach house and yard (no. 91), which was opposite his bicycle shop, became a petrol station and garages, from where he operated a successful car hire business. ‘Quiet and unassuming,…[and] a keen, far-sighted businessman,’ he apparently ‘operated the first charabanc in the district and always kept well abreast in developments in the motor trade.’

During the First World War, Heath allowed the property to be used by Belgian refugees (rent-free for the first year). Waves of Belgians flocked to the safety of Great Britain after the German invasion of September 1914. The Uxbridge and District Belgian Refugees Committee was quickly formed and already by early October the first refugees had arrived. Accommodation was provided at the Cottage Hospital (renamed ‘Albert House,’ after the King of the Belgians), the Uxbridge Athletic Club Rooms on Park Road, lent by Lady Hillingdon (‘Elizabeth House’), a cottage on Cricket Field Road, and Cowley Grove. Given its size, it became an important base: 33 refugees were living there by November 1914, many of them finding munitions work to support themselves. A special Sunday Mass was arranged for them at the temporary Catholic church on Lawn Road and a Belgian chaplain would sometimes stay at Cowley Grove. In February 1915 John Verrassel and Marie Crawels celebrated their wedding at the church. They had planned to get married in her hometown of Antwerp until the Germans besieged it. The bride wore the clothes in which she had fled her native city; a reception at Cowley Grove followed, attended by many other Belgians housed locally.

Following the Armistice, Heath had the vision of transferring Cowley Grove into a ‘pleasure centre’ for the area. He made ‘a narrow path which leads to a rustic bridge across the River Frays’ and, on the island, ‘well away from the noise and bustle of the work-a-day world, shaded by some fine old trees, with a pleasing view of Bucks fields and pastures in the distance, and surrounded by the slowly founding waters,’ he laid out ten tennis courts. These were used by various local groups: three courts for Messrs Lowe and Shayer Nursery (who erected a small pavilion), two for the Providence Tennis Club (together with a croquet lawn), two for St Peter’s Tennis Club, and one each for the Post Office and Wesleyan Clubs.⁴⁴ Boating was an option and the grounds were a popular venue for football, especially the Uxbridge Unity FC.

Around 1920 Cowley Grove itself became a private hotel – the only one in Uxbridge – ‘with 15 bedrooms and large reception rooms, offering exceptional comfort and good cooking.’⁴⁵ Guests could enjoy the grounds and use the tennis courts on the island.  The proprietor was Walter Hugh Ferry (1879-1981). During his long life, he married three times and acted not only as a hotel manager but an antique dealer and furniture designer. According to a revealing article in the Hillingdon Mirror of May 1965, he was up at six every morning to help prepare breakfast for guests and – for many years – attended auctions at Sotheby’s and Christie’s three times a week. He gathered together an impressive collection of antiques; one local I spoke to remembered the alternating displays of them in one of the windows for passers-by to enjoy.

A glimpse of the interior can be seen from existing photographs and an early seventeenth century court cupboard that was sold to the Victoria and Albert Museum at the time of the hotel’s closure.

The family had a penchant for the arts and hospitality: his brother ran a hotel in later life in south Devon and his nephew, known professionally as ‘Hughie Charles’, was the songwriter who wrote There’ll Always Be An England and We’ll Meet Again.

By 1965 business was declining and Ferry decided to sell up. ‘Now I want to leave,’ he told a reporter. ‘I have never really liked Uxbridge. It’s a dump.’ The Frayslea development began to built on the Cowley Grove estate; initially the house continued to stand in the midst of the terraced houses, until it was finally demolished in 1967.

But Cowley Grove is a reminder that Uxbridge is not quite the dump that Mr Ferry claimed it was. This comfortable country house, as we have seen, had surprising connections to famous actors, dancers and the founder of English Pantomime, a place visited by Hogarth (and, who knows, even Handel himself?), the home of a Sikh General and the confidante of Queen Victoria’s mother, the scene of fetes and military displays, of Sunday School outings and tennis games, the base of a flourishing bike and car business, and elegant hotel. Now all forgotten and hidden beneath the tarmac of an unassuming cul-de-sac – what secrets lie under the streets of suburbia?!