The Green Man Inn, Putney Heath, features in two Difficult Dukes books, most recently in Ten Things I Hate About the Duke.
It “stands on the crest of Putney Hill, where the Heath and the Portsmouth Road begin” Charles Harper tells us, in The Old Inns of Old England (1906). But Harper spends most of his time on the highwaymen and footpads whose hangout it apparently was in the 18th century. My story comes some years later, on the brink of the Victorian era, and my focus is on the duels. Several famous ones took place here, including at least two involving Prime Ministers—this despite the fact that dueling was illegal.
A few years ago, during our stay in London, my husband and I visited Putney Heath on our way back from Wimbledon. At the time I wasn’t sure the area would find its way into another book. But I always want to see the real thing when I can, even if it’s too late to change errors. As it happened, we overlooked a site that later became critical to the Duke of Ashmont’s story. More about that later.
We were focused on the Green Man Inn and the heath itself, where we found a suitable dueling site. Although the landscape has changed in nearly 200 years, the change isn’t so radical as to eliminate the kind of space needed. It had to be well hidden by trees but also close to the road where vehicles might wait, ready to speed away all those involved in the event, dead and alive.
We found the perfect place. In fact, we received the distinct impression that a modern-day duel had gone on there, because we encountered two battered-looking men leaving our chosen dueling site. I was happy to see that the dispute was settled with fisticuffs rather than deadly weapons. If it was a dispute. For all I know, they got their bruises and other damage dragging booty through the heath.
We also visited the Green Man itself, where duelists would have stopped for a brandy and soda to bolster their courage on the way to the duel, and where survivors and seconds might settle their nerves afterward. This is where we find the Duke of Ashmont at the start of Ten Things I Hate About the Duke, a few hours after his duel. I used brandy and soda as the drink of choice because it’s recommended as a bracer in The Art of Dueling (1836).
Historical note: I am not positive about opening and closing hours, so there might be some artistic liberty in any character’s stopping in the early morning for a bracer.
What my husband and I failed to discern in our exploration of the area was the cattle pound that’s so significant in the early part of my book. Only when I was back in the U.S. did I discover its existence: “the house, seen across the road from where the large old-fashioned pound for strayed horses, donkeys, and cattle stands on the Heath, presents a charming scene,” Mr. Harper tells us.
“Opposite to the Green Man and just near the bus terminus, a wooden-fence cattle pound stands half-hidden beneath two large plane trees. Originally built in the nineteenth century and as a pen for straying livestock found on the heath, the pound has been a Grade II-listed structure since 1983.” —Simon McNeill-Ritchie & Ron Elam, Putney & Roehampton Through Time (2015)
I can verify that it was at least half-hidden, since we missed it entirely on a July day. I have had to look elsewhere for photographs and precise location. If you scroll down on this History of Putney Heath site, you’ll see a recent photograph of the cattle pound.
Whether the pound was built by the time of my story I have not yet been able to ascertain. All my sources are no more specific than “nineteenth century.” But it worked beautifully for my purposes, and 1833 does qualify as 19th century.
