uresque. They
should look well, for they cover a vast and wasted fortune. There is,
for instance, a grotto which cost forty thousand pounds. It is one of
those wretched and tasteless masses of silly rock-rococo work which were
so much admired at the beginning of the present century, when sham ruins
and sham caverns were preferred to real. There is, also, close by the
grotto, a dogs' burial-ground, in which more than a hundred animals, the
favorites of the late duchess, lie buried. Over each is a tombstone,
inscribed with a rhyming epitaph, written by the titled lady herself, and
which is in sober sadness in every instance doggerel, as befits the
subject. In order to degrade the associations of religion and church
rites as effectually as possible, there is attached to these graves the
semblance of a ruined chapel, the stained-glass window of which was taken
from a church. {97} I confess that I could never see either grotto or
grave-yard without sincerely wishing, out of regard to the memory of both
duke and duchess, that these ridiculous relics of vulgar taste and
affected sentimentalism could be completely obliterated. But, apart from
them, the scenes around are very beautiful; for there are grassy slopes
and pleasant lawns, ancient trees and broad gravel walks, over which, as
the dry leaves fall on the crisp sunny morning, the feet are tempted to
walk on and on, all through the merry golden autumn day.

The neighborhood abounds in memories of olden time. Near Oatlands is a
modernized house, in which Henry the Eighth lived in his youth. It
belonged then to Cardinal Wolsey; now it is owned by Mr. Lindsay,--a
sufficient cause for wits calling it Lindsay-Wolsey, that being also a
"fabric." Within an hour's walk is the palace built by Cardinal Wolsey,
while over the river, and visible from the portico, is the little old
Gothic church of Shepperton, and in the same view, to the right, is the
old Walton Bridge, by Cowie Stakes, supposed to cover the exact spot
where Caesar crossed. This has been denied by many, but I know that the
field adjacent to it abounds in ancient British jars filled with burned
bones, the relics of an ancient battle,--probably that which legend
states was fought on the neighboring Battle Island. Stout-hearted Queen
Bessy has also left her mark on this neighborhood, for within a mile is
the old Saxon-towered church of Walton, in which the royal dame was asked
for her opinion of the sacrament