FULHAM PALACE 
stagnation and unwholesomeness, until Dr. King connected it with 
the Thames by means of sluices. 
Bishop Blomfield, whose tomb is conspicuous in Fulham church- 
yard, and who came to the See in 1824, was greatly attached to 
the old place, where he dwelt for twenty-eight years; he is said 
to have spent thousands of pounds upon cleansing and improving 
the moat, which at the present day is very picturesque, but still 
undesirably muddy! Nevertheless it is easy to believe that a 
hundred years ago it was ‘‘ the haunt of the kingfisher,” and well 
stocked with fish, and that even in Faulkner’s time it in some places 
abounded with water lilies. 
As mentioned in the last chapter, Lambeth Palace suffered 
severely during the period of the Parliamentary Wars. Fulham 
was more fortunate ; we read that a bridge of boats was thrown 
across the river by the Parliamentarians in 1642, in order to carry 
Cromwell’s troops into Surrey; that the headquarters of the 
army was fixed in Putney and Fulham; that the generals held 
their councils in Putney Church, and that Puritan sermons were 
preached therein; but through all this, the innermost tranquillity 
of the Manor House was undisturbed by the outside tumult. 
At the end of the avenue the steps known as ‘the Bishop’s 
Steps’ led to the river, where the Bishop’s barge, manned by 
many rowers, when not in use, lay at its moorings. The ferry 
between Fulham and Putney went by the name of the “‘ Bishop’s 
Ferry.” As in the case of Lambeth, the tolls and profits accruing 
from it belonged to the manor. The pontoon-bridge above men- 
tioned was of course but a temporary arrangement, and the “‘ River 
of Thames ”—‘‘ noble and capacious river’ as Faulkner calls it— 
remained bridgeless hereabouts, for over eighty years. Then, 
largely through the efforts of Sir Robert Walpole, minister to 
George II. and father of Horace Walpole, whose name was corh- 
memorated in the central arch, the quaint timber bridge, with 
its picturesque toll-house, its bell-cot and gates—since swept 
away to make room for a substantial stone structure—was built. 
The bishops received compensation in a sum of money, and the 
privilege of the free use of the bridge for themselves and their 
dependents; so that any servant of the Manor House claimed 
freedom from the toll simply by shouting out ‘‘ Bishop.” 
Faulkner tells us that in the year 1689, Ray, an eminent naturalist 
83 6* 
