SNA LL WE DESTROY 1 VI MB LED ON PA RK ? 185 
SHALL WE DESTROY WIMBLEDON PARK? 
MONG objects familiar in the suburban landscape to 
the eyes of those who travel up and down the main 
line of the South W estern Railway must be reckoned 
1 the new districts of Earlsfield and Summerstown, that 
appear in view soon after passing the cutting beyond Clapham 
Junction. There is nothing singular in the sight of these fast- 
growing suburbs of small houses ; they only form one out of 
many instances of the phenomenal growth of population which 
the late census has revealed as taking place in the outer circle 
of London. Hard by flows the little river Wandle, its banks 
still willow-bordered, but now fast becoming lined with houses, 
though old travellers on the railway tell us that fifteen years 
ago, or less, this scene was one of rural solitude, in no whit 
differing from what it was in the days when the “ father of 
British angling,” Izaak Walton, lingered by the stream, per- 
chance at this very spot. 
Much as we may regret the certain and rapid disappearance 
here of whatever is dear to the memory of lovers of nature, it is 
of little avail to raise an outcry against the apparently inevit- 
able. There is everything to favour a quick growth of popula- 
tion ; the cheap rents of the houses, and the intention of the 
South-Western Railway Company to render access to the 
centre of the metropolis for daily work far easier than at 
present, by the issue of third-class season tickets, combine 
to make it highly probable that this district will one day 
become as densely populated as Battersea or Kennington 
further up the line. 
But here, as in many places elsewhere on the borders of the 
metropolis, something must be done, and can be done, to supply 
the ever-increasing number of inhabitants with an open space 
that shall be a perennial source of fresh air, a means of recrea- 
tion, and a change of scene as near their homes 'as possible. 
Quite close at hand to the district just described, lies one of 
the fairest pieces of scenery that can be found near London, 
and yet, strange to say, till quite latterly, all but unknown to 
dwellers outside the neighbourhood. Shut out from view on 
the Thames side by a ridge of low hills that sweeps round from 
Wandsworth, by way of Putney, to the west and south, and 
forms the edge of the plateau of Wimbledon Common and 
Putney Heath, Wimbledon Park lies in a secluded hollow, 
with gentle undulations. Clumps of noble oaks, and here and 
there a Scotch fir, mingle among the many acres of meadow 
land, all golden and white in early summer with buttercup and 
ox-eye daisy. Right across the park stretches a beautiful sheet 
of water, while on a steep green hill to the south rises, em- 
bowered in trees, the spire of Wimbledon Church. 
On the score of its great loveliness alone such a scene as 
this is worthy of continued preservation in its present state of 
