If nearby Highgate Cemetery is a Who’s Who of London’s dead, Hampstead is the place where all those famous artists, actors, writers, scientists, philosophers and engineers once lived. Every other house seems to have a plaque of some description, identifying a famous person who once called this upmarket – you can practically smell the money, old and new – corner of North London, home.
Quite why the concentration of the famous (and very wealthy) is so dense in this part of London is no mystery. In the 17th century, when Hampstead was still a village outside of the city, those with money fled the plague that was engulfing London. Close to London but far enough away from the noise, pollution and crime of the inner city, it was a perfect escape for the wealthy. They never left.
It famously sits on the edge of Hampstead Heath, a glorious patch of green that provides a much needed escape from the congested streets of London. Even today it feels like a sanctuary. Perfect for artistic types, which is why everyone from Charles Dickens, John Keats and John Constable, to Jim Henderson (creator of the Muppets) and Daphne du Maurier chose to live here.
That tradition continues. Hampstead is home to Dame Judi Dench, Ricky Gervais, Helena Bonham Carter and Oasis frontman, Liam Gallagher. It was not this though that drew me to spend a day pottering around the lanes of Hampstead. When I first moved to London I lived in the far less salubrious Finsbury Park, but using a green trail that went to Highgate and then Hampstead, I would frequently come here to run on the heath.
This time I took the Tube to Highgate and walked to Hampstead Heath. I’d planned to visit Highgate Cemetery, but the entrance price put me off. It was a warm and sunny autumn day, so I decided to hike around the heath before going for a beer in what some people still insist on calling a village. There were a few people swimming in the Men’s Bathing Pond as I passed by on my way to Parliament Hill.
Probably the finest view in London, from Parliament Hill the central London skyline is visible in the distance. The spire of St. Paul’s Cathedral and the Post Office Tower can be seen on a good day. This was a good day. Standing here, it is easy to understand why so many artists drew inspiration from living in Hampstead. I dropped down the other side of the hill and the very first house next to the heath is the former home of George Orwell.
I’d planned to visit the house John Keats lived in for a little less than and year and a half between 1818 and 1820. Here he wrote some of his best known poetry, and it was here that he met his fiancée and muse, Fanny Brawne. Keats would die in Italy aged twenty five in 1821, but his time in Hampstead was important and the house is now a museum. A museum that is bizarrely not open on Saturday.
Despite all the famous names attached to this part of London, there are plaques on buildings that still shock and surprise by providing a window into a forgotten history. Sir Henry Cole is memorialised less as a Victorian-era postal reformer and the first director of the Victoria and Albert Museum, as for being the person who invented the Christmas card in 1843.
A plaque dedicated to Sir Harry Vane states bluntly, “Born 1612, Beheaded 1662”. Vane’s father was an advisor to King Charles I, yet he was a Puritan and to escape religious persecution in England left for the American colonies, where he became the Governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony. Back in England, he was a Parliamentarian and played a significant role in overthrowing the King and establishing a Republic.
Although Vane was critical of Cromwell and had nothing to do with the execution of Charles I, two years after the restoration of the monarchy, Charles II had him executed for his past political activities. After all this excitement, I found myself passing by the Holly Bush, a pub in an 18th century building that was once owned by the artist George Romney. Even having a quiet pint, it’s impossible to escape Hampstead’s famous folk.
Ahhh this takes me back! Love Hampstead!