The flowers grow well about here, the spotted knotweed, the common forget-me-not, the pink willow-herb, the yellow iris, and purple loosestrife may all be found in season, and the meadowsweet and dog-rose scent the summer air.

Everyone knows about Magna Charta, but few perhaps realize that Kingston has an older historical claim than Runnymeade, for it owes its name to being the seat of government of our oldest kings. In the marketplace may be seen the stone inscribed with the names of the seven Saxon kings here crowned in turn; hence Kings' Stone. At that date Mercia and Wess.e.x were united under one king, and the boundaries of Mercia came down to the Thames on the north side, while those of Wess.e.x marched with them on the south. London was unsafe because of the ravages of the Danes, and as at Kingston from time immemorial there has been a ford, a thing of vast importance in the absence of bridges, and a ford well known, it seemed that Kingston had some claim to the ceremony. In 1224 a wooden bridge replaced the ford, the oldest bridge, and the only one, between this and London Bridge. The bridge itself has played a historic part. In 1554 Sir Thomas Wyatt, marching to London, found London Bridge closed against him, so he had to march as far as Kingston to reach the next crossing-place.

The fact seems incredible to us in the days of many bridges. But when Sir Thomas arrived at the end of his tedious march he found he had been forestalled, the bridge was broken down, and on the farther bank two hundred soldiers stood ready for him should he dare to use the ford!

Therefore back went he to London Town.

Wallingford has a little bit of history of its own. It boasts the oldest corporation in England, a hundred years prior to that of London. It also disputes with Kingston the claim to the oldest bridge and ford above Westminster. The town was "destroyed" by the Danes in 1006. At the time of William the Conqueror's advance on London the castle was held by WiG.o.d, a Saxon, and from that time onward it was a notable fort, taking part in many historical events. It boasted three moats, and a fragment of the old wall remains in the pretty garden of the house now called the Castle.

In 1153 Prince Henry "lay" at Wallingford with 3000 men, and Stephen, with another army, glared at him from the opposite bank; but like two schoolboys, mutually unwilling, the rivals slipped away without encounter.

It was Cromwell who ordered the utter destruction of the castle in 1652.

[Ill.u.s.tration: WALLINGFORD]

The oldest historical incident of all in connection with the Thames is the supposed crossing of Caesar at Cowey Stakes, above Walton Bridge. Some strong wooden stakes, black and tough with age, and metal-capped, were found driven into the bed of the river at this point. They are supposed to have been driven in by the Britons to hinder the crossing of Caesar in B.C.

54. As it is known that Caesar did cross the river some eighty miles above the sea, and as a Roman camp was discovered in the neighbourhood, it is quite possible that anyone standing on Walton Bridge, looking over the wide peaceful stretch of river above, is really surveying the stage on which one of the earliest acts in our great national drama was played.

The unhappy Henry VI, too weak to bear without misery to himself the responsibility life thrust upon him, sleeps at Chertsey. His body, after being exposed at Blackfriars, was brought here on a barge--a slow procession and a sad one. In _Richard III_ Shakespeare makes the hyprocritical Duke of Gloucester say:

After I have solemnly interred At Chertsey monastery this n.o.ble king, And wet his grave with my repentant tears.

Not far from the resting-place of Henry VI, a great statesman, Charles James Fox, was born. What a gap in time and manners and customs is here suggested. To think of the two is to span the distance between generations of growth and thought. Fox died at Chiswick House, so his life began and ended by Thames side. In the same house, twenty years later, died another great statesman, George Canning. Thus, even without reckoning London itself, the centre of our national life and history, we find the Thames can show names famous in literature, in history, and in politics. Its banks are studded with memories as they are with flowers, and in contemplation and reminiscence the annals of the centuries flow past us as the water itself flows by, ever smoothly and unceasingly.