Folk-rhymes are often uncomplimentary, and that which praises Sutton for its mutton and Cheam for juicy beef, is more severe than one cares to quote on Epsom; and, altogether ignoring the mingled fragrances of Mitcham, declares it the place "for a thief." We need not, however, take the matter seriously: the rhymester was only at his wit's end for a rhyme to "beef."
Mitcham station, beside the road, is a curious example of what a railway company can do in its rare moments of economy; for it is an early nineteenth-century villa converted to railway purposes by the process of cutting a hole through the centre. It is a sore puzzle to a stranger in a hurry.
From Mitcham one ascends a hill past the woodland estate of Ravensbury, crossing the abundantly-exploited Wandle; and then, along a still rural road, to the modern town of Sutton.
On the fringe of that town, at the discreet "residential" suburb of Benhilton, is a scenic surprise in the way of a deep cutting in the hilly road. Spanned by a footbridge, graced with trees, and neighboured by the old "Angel" inn, "Angel Bridge," as it is called, is a pretty spot. The rise thus cut through was once known as Been Hill, and on that basis was fantastically reared the name of Benhilton. One cannot but admire the ingenuity of it.
[Illustration: THE "COCK," SUTTON 1789. _From an aquatint after Rowlandson._]
"Sutton for mutton": so ran the old-time rhyme. The reason of that ancient repute is found in the downs in whose lap the place is situated; those thymy downs that afforded such splendid pasturage for sheep. Sutton Common is gone, enclosed in 1810, but the downs remain; and yet that rhyme has lost its reason, and Sutton is no longer celebrated for anything above its fellow towns. Even the famous "Cock" is gone--that old coaching-inn kept by the ex-pugilist, "Gentleman Jackson." Long threatened, it was at last demolished in 1898, and with the old house went the equally famous sign that straddled across the road. The similar sign of the "Greyhound" still remains; the last relic of narrower streets and times more spacious.
Leaving Sutton "town," as we call it nowadays, the road proceeds to climb steadily uphill to the modern suburb of "Belmont," where stands an old, but very well cared-for, milestone setting forth that it is distant "XIII. miles from the Standard in Cornhill, London, 1745," from the Royal Exchange the same distance, and from Whitehall twelve miles and a half. The neighbourhood is now particularly respectable, but I grieve to say that the spot is marked on the maps of 1796 as "Little Hell," which seems to indicate that the character of the people living in the three houses apparently then standing here would not bear close inspection. With the "Angel" placed at one end, and this vestibule into Inferno situated at the other, Sutton seems to have been accorded exceptional privileges.