Kenilworth ruins remind one of a puzzle, a few of the pieces of which have been lost, but are so few as to be readily supplied. The ruins are principally Late Perpendicular, but there are some Norman portions. Cæar's Tower, of which three sides remain, has walls sixteen feet thick. John of Gaunt's large and massive additions are in decay; and the Leicester Buildings, though comparatively modern, present, from the friable nature of the stone, an appearance of great antiquity: they contain the remains of the noble banqueting-hall. The gate-house, also Leicester's, is better preserved, and has in our time been occupied as a farm-house. The ruins are, in many parts, mantled with ivy, which adds to their picturesqueness; and being on an elevated, rocky site, they command extensive views of the country round:
"Grey memory of centuries past,
Proud Kenilworth! How dear
The charm that mellowing time hath cast
Over thy portals drear.
Thy battlements are crumbling now,
And ivy decks thy faded brow.
"Green grows the moss, where banners told
Ambitions Leicester's hour of pride;
Years their all-changing course have roll'd—
All tenantless the chambers wide.
Bank weeds upon the portals grow;
Noble and knight, where are ye now?"
Traditional tales of the festive joys of Kenilworth linger on the spot; and among other things, it is told that the great clock was stopped during Elizabeth's stay at the castle, as if Time had stood still, waiting on the Queen, and seeing her subjects enjoying themselves!
Arundel Castle, the last baronial home we have to describe, is a seat of great historic interest, derived from the long list of warriors and statesmen, whose names are identified with the place; and whose deeds, during the lapse of eight centuries, have shed lustre on our national history:
"Since William rose, and Harold fell,
There have been Counts of Arundel;
And earls old Arundel shall have
While rivers flow and forests wave."
The castle stands on the river Arun in Sussex, at a short distance from the sea, which is once supposed to have washed the castle-walls, as anchors and other implements have been found near it. The castle is mentioned as early as the time of King Alfred, who bequeathed it to his nephew Adhelm. After the Norman Conquest, it was given by William to his kinsman, Roger de Montgomeri, created Earl of Arundel and Shrewsbury. Robert, one of the successors of this Earl, supported Robert, Duke of Normandy, the eldest son of William I. against Henry, the youngest son of the Conqueror. Afterwards the castle passed into the family of Albini; and at last, by the marriage of that race with Thomas, Duke of Norfolk (in the reign of Elizabeth), into the family of the Howards. It gives to its possessor (now the Duke of Norfolk) the title of Earl of Arundel, and is an instance of a peerage attached to the tenure of a house, which is now an anomaly. In 11th Henry VI. it was decided that the tenure of the castle of Arundel alone, without any creation, patent, or investiture, constituted its possessor Earl of Arundel. Sir Bernard Burke, however, considers this fact to admit of doubt. (See Visitation of Seats and Arms, vol. i. p. 89.) For a place of defence, the castle must have been well calculated, standing, as it does, at the extreme point of an eminence which terminates one of the high and narrow ridges of the South Downs; and in the two immense fosses which still remain, we have evident tokens of the ancient mode of fortification. The entrance gateway, anciently defended by a drawbridge and a portcullis, was built by Richard Fitzalan, in the reign of Edward I. This, with some of the walls and the keep, is all that remains of the ancient castle.
The keep is a circular stone tower, sixty-eight feet in diameter, and the most perfect in England. In the middle of it is a dungeon, a vault about ten feet high, accessible by a flight of steps, and thought to have served as a storehouse for the garrison. The keep has long been tenanted by some owls of large size and beautiful plumage, sent over from America as a present to the then Duke of Norfolk. The barbican was named Bevis's Tower from this legendary story. A giant named Bevis officiated here as warder, in payment for which the Earl of Arundel built this tower for his reception, allowing him two hogsheads of beer every week, a whole ox, and a proportionate quantity of bread and mustard. So huge was the giant, that he could, without inconvenience, wade the channel of the sea to the Isle of Wight, and frequently did so for his amusement. So, great as that wonder may be, a greater marvel is, how he ever got into his tower, which, upon ordinary calculations, must have been totally inadequate to contain him.
Among the Norman remains is an extensive vault, now used as a cellar, about fifteen feet in height. That it was anciently used as a dungeon is undoubted; and in it were confined not only military captives, but every civil delinquent within the privileges of the honour. This was a considerable source of profit to the Earls, and was, therefore, sturdily maintained by them as a vested right. The ancient hall, with its appendant buildings, was in the style of the reign of Edward III. The north-east wing was last erected. Such was the building as it stood at the commencement of the seventeenth century, inclosing five acres and a half, and resembling in ground-plan Windsor Castle.
Arundel Castle was almost battered to pieces in the Civil War: the hall and other living apartments were rendered untenantable, and the place was abandoned by its noble owner, till about the year 1720, from which period until 1801 only partial restorations were carried out. Then was built the magnificent library for 10,000 volumes, in imitation of the aisle of a Gothic cathedral; with ornamentation from Gloucester Cathedral, and St. George's, Windsor: the ceiling, columns, &c. are of mahogany. In 1806 was begun the Barons' Hall: the roof is of Spanish chestnut, designed from Westminster, Eltham, and Crosby Halls; and it has a large stained end window, of King John signing Magna Charta,[30] and thirteen windows painted with baronial and family portraits; and in the drawing-room is a stained glass window, by Eginton, representing the Duke and Duchess of Norfolk as King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba at a banquet! The renovation of the castle cost Charles Howard, the eleventh Duke of Norfolk, the large sum of 600,000l. Upon the completion of the work in June, 1815, he gave a magnificent fête, which accelerated his death in December following. The appointments of the castle are very superb. The Duke of Norfolk received here, in 1846, a state visit from Queen Victoria and Prince Albert.
The park is extensive and finely wooded, and has much picturesque scenery. Vineyards formerly abounded in this country; so that, in 1763, there were sixty pipes of excellent wine resembling Burgundy, in the cellar of the castle, the produce of one vineyard attached to it. The river Arun, on which the town of Arundel stands, is famous for the grey mullets which, in summer, come up here in large shoals, in quest of a particular weed, the feeding on which renders them a great delicacy.
Among the events in the castle history was the reception of the Empress Maud, in 1139, at Arundel Castle, by Adeliza, a relict of Henry I. King Stephen, apprised of her movements, appeared suddenly before the castle, with a well-appointed army. The Queen Dowager sent him this spirited message:—"She had received the Empress as her friend, not as his enemy; she had no intention of interfering in their quarrels," and therefore begged the King to allow her royal guest to quit Arundel, and try her fortune in some other part of England. "But," added she, "if you are determined to besiege her here, I will endure the last extremity of war rather than give her up, or suffer the laws of hospitality to be violated." The Queen's request was granted, and the Empress retired to Bristol.
To conclude. No place in England deserves more notice than the Castle of Arundel—a grand pile of buildings, modern for the most part, and not capable of supporting criticism; but the ivy-grown keep, at least as old as the days of Henry I., may challenge comparison with any of the same date in this country. The castle has not withstood sieges as others have; it is but too well known for its surrender to Sir William Waller, who took from it seventeen colours of foot, two of horse, and a thousand prisoners. Nor is it associated with any decisive battles or events; but no residence presents us with such a picture of feudal times; no other baronial home has sent forth thirteen dukes and thirty-five earls. What house has been so connected with our political and religious annals as that of Howard? The premiers in the roll-call of our nobility, have been also among the most persecuted and ill-fated. Not to dwell on the high-spirited Isabelle, Countess Dowager of Arundel, and widow of Hugh, last Earl of the Albini family, who upbraided Henry III. to his face with "vexing the church, oppressing the barons, and denying all his true-born subjects their rights;" or Richard, Earl of Arundel, who was executed for conspiring to seize Richard II.—we must think with indignation of the sufferings inflicted by Elizabeth on Philip, Earl of Arundel, son of "the great" Duke of Norfolk, beheaded by Elizabeth in 1572 for his dealings with Mary, Queen of Scots. In the biography of Earl Philip, which, with that of Ann Dacres, his wife, was well edited by the late lamented Duke, we find that he was caressed by Elizabeth in early life, and steeped in the pleasures and vices of her court by her encouragement, to the neglect of his constant wife, whose virtues, as soon as they reclaimed him to his duty to her, rendered him hated and suspected by the Queen, so that she made him the subject of vindictive and incessant persecution, till death released him at the age of thirty-eight. To another Howard, Thomas, son of Earl Philip, the country is indebted for those treasures of the East, the Arundel Marbles; though Lord Clarendon describes him somewhat ill-naturedly, denying him all claims to learning, and even gravity of character.
The sight of the embattled towers of Arundel conjures up before us many historic personages, whom in fancy we can see emerging from their venerable gateways, in all the pride of youth and ancestry, whose mouldered ashes now repose under those grey walls. And there too now lies, alas! added to the number, the late kind-hearted and amiable Duke, snatched away, like so many of his forefathers, in the very prime of manhood.[31]
itherto we have but glanced at the earlier periods of what may be termed Domestic Life in England. We have attempted to trace our British ancestors in their "woods and caves, and painted skins;" in their rude state, before the Roman colonization; in their advancement under that enlightened sway; and their decadence after their conquerors had left them. To these periods have succeeded the ages of Castle-building, when edifices were built for purposes of defence. In lawless times, might lorded it over right, and stronger places of abode than we regard a house were necessary for the security and protection of the inhabitants. Throughout these periods we have few evidences, from their dwellings, of how the people lived: from the earth caverns of the Early Britons to the Roman civilization is a dreary picture of rude accommodation; and though the excavation of ancient sites, and the operation of the plough, may bring to light many a splendid pavement and appliances, which denote luxurious life,—these are the remains of the embellished villas of the wealthy Roman, and not of the abodes of the conquered Briton. The Saxons lived so meanly, that it were vain to expect to find many traces of their dwellings; and of the Danes there are still fewer remains. With these exceptions we have, before the Conquest, no actually existing witnesses.
With the Norman period our series of evidences begins. For some time after the Conquest, strictly domestic remains are very scanty. The great men lived in castles, which are, indeed, domestic so far as men lived in them, but whose architecture is too much affected by military considerations to be called strictly domestic architecture, which is the building of houses, whose defence is either not thought of or is something quite secondary. It is clear that houses of this sort, of such pretensions as to possess any architectural character, or to be preserved down to our time, could not well exist, in the open country at least, till the land had become comparatively settled and civilized. Hence, our list of Norman houses in England is very scanty, and they are chiefly formed in walled towers, like Lincoln and Bury St. Edmund's. [The erection of Lincoln Castle by order of William the Conqueror, in 1086, is said to have caused the demolition of 240 houses. Perhaps the only perfect and untouched Norman example is the small unroofed house at Christ Church, in Hampshire. The church is Norman, and the tower is supposed to be of Roman origin.]
Several of the fragments elsewhere have very fine Norman detail; but for Norman architecture exhibiting anything like the real grandeur of the style, we must look to the castles and monasteries. In the thirteenth century our examples are still but few and small, though much more numerous than before. After the age of Edward III. the castle became more like a mansion, as we have seen in the castles of Windsor, Warwick, and Kenilworth.
As the character of the times became more peaceful, and law succeeded to the reign of the strong hand, a still further change took place in the construction of these dwellings, and they partook but slightly of the castellated character. Beauty and ornament were consulted by the builders instead of strength; and the convenient accommodation of the in-dwellers, in lieu of the means of disposing of a crowded garrison, and its necessary provision in time of siege. They usually retained the moat and battlemented gateway, and one or two strong turrets, to build which a royal licence was necessary. Thus, the idea of the English manor-house seems to have disengaged itself from that of the castle, and we begin to have a noble series of strictly domestic buildings, defence being quite secondary, and in no way obtruded. They were generally quadrangular in plan, the larger class inclosing two open courts, of which one contained the stables, offices, and lodgings of the household; the second, the principal or statechambers, with the hall and chapel. The windows were large and lofty, reaching almost to the ground, and several of them opening to the gardens on the outside of the building, though these were inclosed by high battlemented walls and a moat. It should, however, be remarked, that the mansion, except in edifices of considerable extent and consequence, seldom contained more than one court.
The hall, in most cases, retained its original design. It was distinguished by its superior elevation, its turreted towers (or lantern), its windows, and projecting bay. The principal doorway entered upon a vestibule or lobby, extending across the edifice, with a door of inferior dimensions at the opposite extremity, having, on one side, the lower wall of the hall, in which were doors leading to the buttery and kitchener's department; and on the other, the screen, or lofty partition of wood, designed to conceal those doors from the view of persons in the hall. In the Companies' Halls of the City of London, a moveable screen is generally used for this purpose.
The screen was often panelled with wood from top to bottom, and divided into compartments, which were enriched with shields and carved work, having usually two or three arched doorways opening on the lobby. In many instances, the minstrels' gallery was placed above this compartment.
Among the richest specimens extant of the embattled mansions are Wingfield Manor-house, in Derbyshire; Cowdray, in Sussex;[32] Kelmingham Hall, in Suffolk; Penshurst, in Kent; Deene Park, in Northamptonshire; and Thornbury Castle, in Gloucestershire. This period of the transition from the castle to the mansion is considered the best style of English architecture.
Wingfield, near the centre of Derbyshire, was built by Ralph, Lord Cromwell, who, in the time of Henry VI. was Treasurer of England, in allusion to which he had bags or purses of stones carved over the gateway of Wingfield, as well as on the manor-house of Coly Weston, in Northamptonshire, augmented by this Lord Cromwell. Wingfield Manor-house originally consisted of two square courts—one containing the principal apartments, and the other the offices. It had a noble hall lighted by a beautiful octagon window, and a range of Gothic windows, north and south. The principal entrance is by an embattled gate-house, through a pointed arch, beside the end of the great state apartment lighted by a large and rich pointed window. Here the Earl of Shrewsbury held in his custody Mary Queen of Scots, in a convenient suite of apartments, which communicated with the great tower, whence the ill-starred captive could see her friends with whom she held a secret correspondence. An attempt was made by Leonard Dacre to rescue Mary, after which Elizabeth, becoming suspicious of the Earl of Shrewsbury, directed the Lady Huntingdon to take care of the Queen of Scots in Shrewsbury's house; and had her suite reduced to thirty persons. Her captivity at Wingfield is stated to have extended to nine years, which, however, is questionable.
Thornbury Castle is picturesquely placed twenty-four miles south-west of Gloucester, on the banks of a rivulet two miles westward of "the glittering, red, and rapid Severn, embedded in its emerald vale, and shining up in splendid contrast to the shady hills of the Dean Forest." Thornbury was begun by Edward Stafford, Duke of Buckingham; its completion was prevented by his execution, in the year 1522. It is a castellated group, with battlemented towers and turrets, and enriched chimney-shafts, clothed with luxuriant ivy; its bay-windows are very fine. Buckingham fell one of the earliest victims to the cruel tyranny of our eighth Henry. The line of his pedigree is marked in blood. His father was beheaded by Richard III.; his grandfather was killed at the battle of St. Albans; his great grandfather at the battle of Northampton; and the father of this latter at the battle of Shrewsbury. More than a century had elapsed since any chief of this great family had fallen by a natural death. Edward was doomed to no nobler fate than his forefathers. Knivett, a discarded officer of Buckingham's household, furnished information to Wolsey, which led to the apprehension of his late master: it was stated that he had consulted a monk about future events; that he had declared all the acts of Henry VII. to be wrongfully done; that he had told Knivett, that if he had been sent to the Tower, when he was in danger of being committed, he would have played the part which his father had intended to perform at Salisbury—where, if he could have obtained an audience, he would have stabbed Richard III. with a knife; and that he had told Lord Abergavenny, if the king had died, he would have the rule of the land. Yet, all this was but the testimony of a spy. Buckingham confessed the real amount of his absurd inquiries from the friar. He was tried in the court of the Lord High Steward, by a jury of one duke, one marquess, seven earls, and twelve barons, who convicted him. The Duke of Norfolk shed tears on pronouncing sentence. The prisoner said: "May the eternal God forgive you my death, as I do." The only favour which he could obtain was, that the ignominious part of a traitor's death should be remitted. He was accordingly beheaded on the 17th of May, 1521; whilst the surrounding people vented their indignation against Wolsey by loud cries of "The butcher's son!" The half-built and decaying Thornbury has prompted this saddening history of its founder and his ill-fated family.
Longleat, in Wiltshire, the seat of the Marquis of Bath, and built in the reign of Edward VI., is, for its date, esteemed the most regular building in the kingdom. Upon its site was originally a priory, which came into the possession of the Thynne family, in the reign of Henry VIII. The present mansion was commenced by the first proprietor of that family, and completed for his successors by an Italian architect: it consists of three stories, Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian, adorned with rich pilasters, handsome balustrades, and statues; and from the roof rise several cupolas. The apartments are large and sumptuous; and the great hall is two stories in height. The gardens were originally embellished with fountains, cascades, and statues, and laid out in formal parterres; but the whole has been newly remodelled. The entire domain is fifteen miles in circuit; and in magnitude, grandeur, and variety of decoration, Longleat has always been the pride of this part of the country. Its collection of pictures includes many portraits of eminent persons in the reign of Queen Elizabeth and her successors.
In the time of Elizabeth and James I. were erected many mansions upon splendid and extensive scales. John Thorpe built five palaces for Elizabeth's ministers: for Lord Burghley, Theobalds and Burghley; Wimbledon, for Sir Robert Cecil; Hollenby and Kirby, for Lord Chancellor Hatton; and Buckhurst for the Earl of Dorset. Thorpe also built for Sir Walter Cope, Holland House, Kensington, about 1606, which received its name from Henry Rich, Earl of Holland, by whom the mansion was greatly altered. Its plan is that of half the letter H, of deep red brick, with pilasters and their entablature; the window dressings, and coping, of stone. Few of the apartments retain their original character; some of the interior is supposed to be by Inigo Jones. The gilt room is by Cleyn, an artist largely employed by James I. and Charles I.; the figures over the fireplace are worthy of Parmegiano, and here is a very fine collection of modern busts.
Burghley, Northamptonshire, has the rare fortune of remaining to this time the seat of the descendants of the great Lord Burghley, for whom the mansion was built; the present noble owner being the Marquis of Exeter: in approaching it from Stamford, its singular chimneys, the variety of its turrets, towers, and cupolas, and the steeple of its chapel rising from its centre, give it the appearance more of a small city than a single building.
Hatfield, in Hertfordshire, which has been a palace, episcopal, royal, and noble, for upwards of seven centuries, was mostly built by Thorpe, in 1611. The old palace was of the twelfth century: here is the chamber in which the Princess Elizabeth was kept for some time a state prisoner; and in the present mansion, Charles I. was confined. In plan, Hatfield is in the form of half the letter H: each front differs from the other, but in unity of design the Tudor period is remarkably prevalent, and it is believed that no house in the kingdom erected at so early a date, remains so entire as this.
A stately mansion of this period was erected at Campden, in Gloucestershire, at an expense of 29,000l.; it occupied eight acres, was of splendid architecture, and had a large dome rising from the roof, which was illuminated nightly for the guidance of travellers. Campden was burnt during the Civil War.
Haddon Hall, near Bakewell, in Derbyshire, erected at various periods, affords excellent examples of the several styles of domestic architecture, from the early pointed, to the Tudor and Elizabethan. It was originally a barton, or farm, given by William the Conqueror to his natural son, William Peverell. The mansion is preserved intact: the tapestry and paneling remain; the carved wainscoting and ornamented ceiling of the long gallery are of the time of Elizabeth; the banqueting-hall is equally perfect; the chapel is a good specimen of the early Pointed Gothic. Haddon is one of the curiosities of the Peak country. Many years since Mr. Reinagle painted a picture of this famous old place, which evoked the following poetical tribute to its truthfulness:—
"Gre weeds o'ertop thy ruin'd wall,
Grey, venerable Haddon Hall;
The swallow twitters through thee:
Who would have thought, when, in their pride,
Thy battlements the storm defied,
That Time should thus subdue thee?
"While with a famed and far renown
England's third Edward wore the crown,
Up sprang'st thou in thy glory;
And surely thine (if thou couldst tell,
Like the old Delphian Oracle)
Would be a wondrous story.
"How many a Vernon thou hast seen,
Kings of the Peak thy walls within;
How many a maiden tender;
How many a warrior stem and steel'd,
In burganet, and lance, and shield,
Array'd with martial splendour.
"Then, as the soft autumnal breeze
Just curl'd the lake, just stirr'd the trees,
In the blue cloudless weather,
How many a gallant hunting train,
With hawk in hood, and horse in rein,
Forsook thy courts together!
"The grandeur of the olden time
Mounted thy towers with pride sublime,
Enlivening all who near'd them;
From Hippocras and Sherris sack
Palmer or pilgrim turn'd not back
Before thy cellars cheer'd them.
"Since thine unbroken early day,
How many a race hath pass'd away,
In charnel vault to moulder—
Yet Nature round thee breathes an air
Serenely bright, and softly fair,
To charm the awed beholder.
"The past is but a gorgeous dream,
And Time glides by us like a stream,
While musing on thy story;
And sorrow prompts a deep alas!
That, like a pageant thus, should pass
To wreck all human glory."
It is now time to speak more in detail of the main apartment—the chief feature of an ancient residence of every class—the Great Hall, which often gave its name to the whole house. A very able writer has thus lucidly yet briefly told its history:—"In the early houses, the hall is almost the whole house; there is nothing besides, except the requisite offices and a room or two for the lord and the lady. The mass of the household slept how they might in the hall. Gradually, as civilization increased, the accommodation in a house became greater, and the relative importance—sometimes the positive size—of the Hall gradually diminishes. The family gradually deserted it, and the modern luxury of the dining-room was introduced. The withdrawing-room, that into which they withdrew from the hall, had already appeared. At last, in the sixteenth century, the Hall, though still a grand feature, became, as now, a mere entrance, often with rooms over it."
Sometimes, the Great Hall was raised upon an undercroft of stone vaulting, as we see in the Guildhall, the undercroft of which is the finest specimen of its class in the metropolis. Gerard's Hall, in Basing-lane, built by John Gisors, pepperer, Mayor of London in 1245, and is described by Stow as "a great house of old time, builded upon arched vaults, and with arched gates of stone, brought from Cane, in Normandy."
Aubrey, writing in the seventeenth century, thus describes, in his quaint way, the characteristics of the old manorial or hall houses of the times of the Plantagenets and Tudors: "The architecture of an old English gentleman's house (especially in Wiltshire and thereabouts) was a high strong wall, a gate-house, a Great Hall, and parlours, and within the little green court, where you come in, stood on one side the barne. They then thought not the noise of the threshold ill musique."
To come to details. The Great Hall corresponded to the refectory of the abbey. The principal entrance to the main building, from the front or outer court, opened into a thorough lobby, having on one side several doors or arches, leading to the buttery,[33] kitchen, and domestic offices; on the other side, the Hall, parted off by a screen, generally of wood, elaborately carved, and enriched with shields and a variety of ornaments, and pierced with several arches, having folding-doors. Above the screen, and over the lobby, was the minstrels' gallery; on its front were usually hung armour, antlers, and similar memorials of the family exploits.
The Hall itself was a large and lofty room, in the shape of a parallelogram; the roof, the timbers of which were framed with pendants, generally richly carved and emblazoned with arms, formed one of the most striking features. "The top beam of the Hall," in allusion to the position of his coat-of-arms, was a symbolical manner of drinking the health of the master of the house. At the upper end of the apartment, furthest from the entrance, the floor was usually raised a step, and this part was styled the daïs, or high place. On one side of the daïs was a deep embayed window, reaching nearly down to the floor; the other windows ranged along one or both sides of the Hall, at some height above the ground, so as to leave room for wainscoting, or arras, below them. We see this arrangement to great advantage in the Great Hall at Hampton Court Palace, where the wall beneath the windows is hung with Flemish tapestry, in eight compartments, the arabesque borders of which are very beautiful; the subject is the History of Abraham. The tapestry at the entrance of the Hall is of much earlier date, being in the school of Albert Durer: the subject, Justice and Mercy pleading before Kings or Judges. The withdrawing-room is also hung with tapestry, the subjects mostly mythological; and the oriel-window is filled with armorial stained glass.
The Hall windows generally were enriched with stained glass, representing the armorial bearings of the family, their connexions, and royal patrons; and between the windows were hung full-length portraits of the same persons. The windows were not, however, permanently glazed till the fifteenth century. Before that, it was the custom for the glazed casements to be carried about from manor to manor along with the other furniture; every man of rank, whether civil or ecclesiastical, was in the habit of travelling with all his retinue, from one estate to another, so as to consume the produce of each estate upon the spot. It is this custom, or rather necessity, which explains the multitude of manorial houses possessed by every mediæval magnate, and the constant migrations from one to the other. Royal writs and documents are frequently dated from the most insignificant places where the court, on its progress from one royal manor to another, might happen to be staying.[34]
To return to the Hall. The Royal arms usually occupied a conspicuous station at either end of the room. The head-table was laid for the lord and principal guests on the raised place, parallel with the upper end wall; and other tables were ranged along the sides for inferior visitors and retainers. Tables, thus placed, were said to stand banquet-wise. In the centre of the Hall was the rere-dosse, or fire-iron, against which fagots were piled, and burnt upon the stone floor, the smoke passing through an aperture in the roof immediately overhead, which was generally formed into an elevated lantern, a conspicuous ornament to the exterior of the building. In later times, a wide-arched fireplace was formed in the wall on one side of the room.
The Halls, in fact, of our colleges, at either University, and the Inns of Court, still remain as in Aubrey's time, accurate examples of the ancient and baronial and conventual Halls: preserving not merely their original form and appearance, but the identical arrangement and service of the table. Even the central fire has been, in some instances, kept up, being of charcoal, burnt in a large braziere, in lieu of the rere-dosse. The open fire was so kept up, at Westminster School, so late as 1850. The Halls of the temple, Gray's Inn, and Staple Inn, have their lanterns; and even the Hall of Barnard's Inn, the oldest and the smallest, has its lantern; the newly built Hall of Lincoln's Inn has a very ornamental one; and the new roof of the Guildhall is to have a lantern with a lofty spire. The lantern of Westminster Hall is large and picturesque; it is modern, of cast-iron, but is an exact copy of the original one, erected near the end of the fourteenth century. As the existing lanterns are no longer required for the egress of smoke, they are glazed.
In other respects, probably, little, if anything, has been altered since the Tudor era; and he who is anxious to know the mode in which our ancestors dined in the reigns of the Henrys and Edwards, may be gratified by attending that meal in the Great Halls of Christchurch or Trinity, and tasking his imagination to convert the principal and fellows at the upper table, into the stately baron, his family, and guests; and the gowned commoners at the side-tables, into the liveried retainers. The service of the kitchen, buttery, and cellar is conducted, at the present day, precisely according to the ancient custom.[35]
Gradually, the solar or private sitting-room of the matron or mistress of the house increased in importance. Its most usual position was at one end of the Hall, on an upper level, raised above an apartment which was used as a cellar or a store-room.
The Hall is, of course, the part of a house or castle where the art of architecture proper has the best opportunity of displaying itself. So, in a monastery, the refectory comes next in grandeur to the church and chapter-house. Indeed, some of the early Halls were built not unlike churches, with two rows of pillars. In a wooden construction this is not uncommon both in halls and barns; but the examples we mean have two regular aisles with stone pillars and arches. Such was the original Westminster Hall, till Richard II. threw it into one body under the present magnificent single roof. The finest existing example is perhaps that superb one at Oakham Castle, of the best architecture of the end of the twelfth century. In the next century we have the Hall of the Royal Palace at Winchester used like that at Oakham, for an assize-court. Of single-bodied halls of the fourteenth century, nothing can surpass those of Caerphilly Castle in Glamorganshire, and Mayfield Palace in Sussex. Mayfield has, and Caerphilly seems to have been designed to have, a very effective arrangement of stone arches thrown across at intervals to support the roof, and to produce something of the effect of actual vaulting. The same is the case at Conway. Most of these examples are ruined.[36] Mayfield has lately been restored.
The gallery was brought into use with the Elizabethan style of architecture, and became a prominent feature among the apartments of houses in that style. The gallery at Hatfield, with a magnificently gilded ceiling—a blaze of gold—is a fine specimen: it was regilt just previous to the visit of Queen Victoria to Hatfield in 1846: a state ball was given in this gallery, and we remember to have been told the day after the Royal visit, that during the dance there fell from Her Majesty's hand a rose, which was immediately taken up by a gentleman of the company; on bended knee he presented it to the Queen, who most graciously returned the flower, which, we doubt not, is preserved.
The extensive passages in some ancient houses have, no doubt, been originally similar to the open galleries round our old inns, of which we have examples, year by year, diminishing in number. These passages were ultimately inclosed for comfort and convenience. The staircases, in ancient times, were usually cylindrical, and were carried up in a separate turret: it was not until the age of Elizabeth that the massive staircase, with its broad hand-rails, balustrades, and enriched ornaments, was introduced into the mansion; that of a later period is familiarly known as a "Queen Anne staircase."
The royal parlour of Eltham is a perfect specimen of the banqueting-hall, and was the frequent residence of our kings before Henry VIII.; and here they held their great Christmas feasts. Two thousand guests in 1483 were entertained here at Christmas, by Edward IV., the royal builder of the Hall. His badges—the falcon, the fetterlock, and rose-en-soleil—are sculptured over the chief entrance; and Edward is represented by Skelton as saying:
"I made Nottingham a palace royal,
Windsor, Eltham, and many mo'."
Princesses have been cradled here, Parliaments have met in the Great Hall, and kings and queens have betaken themselves here to meditate upon the waning earthly greatness. The gloomy Henry VII. at intervals retired to Eltham; Queen Mary or Queen Elizabeth would spend a few days in the almost forsaken palace; and James I. had been known to pass a morning here.
Eltham is now a regal ruin. "The fair pleasaunce, the echoing courts, the king's lodging, presence and guard chamber, and the rooms in which the royal attendants lodged, have all disappeared. The gateway and high walls of ruddy brick only remain to mark the site of the tilt-yard. The moat is half dry, and the sluggish stream is still spanned by the bridge of four arches, which is contemporaneous with the Hall; but 'the gateway and the fair front towards the moat,' built by Henry VII., have been replaced by two modern houses; and another, with three barge-board gables, and corbelled attics, to the east end of the Hall, retains the designation of the Buttery. There is a view of the Hall by Buck, dated 1735, which represents a great portion of the palace, with its quaint water-towers and moated walls still standing; but, although Parliament in 1827 spent £700 upon the repairs, the state of the Hall is sad enough now: full of litter of every sort, its windows unglazed or bricked up; with damp fastenings in the naked walls, and rough rafters stretching across from side to side, and reaching above the corbels. It is now used as a barn. It was at once an audience-chamber and refectory, 100 feet in length, 55 in height, and 36 feet broad. But the windows now admit broad streams of cheerful sunshine, which light up the thick trails of ivy that flow over the empty panes; its deep bay-window, now stripped of glazing, but enriched with groining and tracery which flanked the daïs, betoken the progress which elegance and security had made at the period of their erection: the lofty walls continue to support a high pitched roof of oak, in tolerable preservation, with hammer-beams, carved pendants, and braces supported on corbels of hewn stone; and although the royal table, the hearth, and louvre have disappeared, there are still remains of the minstrels' gallery, and the doors in the oak screen below it, which lead to the capacious kitchen, the butteries, and cellars, to tell each their several tale of former state."[37]
Hitherto, we have mostly spoken of palaces and mansions. It is, however, very difficult to discover any fragments of houses inhabited by the gentry, before the reign, at soonest, of Edward III., or even to trace them by engravings in the older topographical works; not only from the dilapidations of time, but because very few considerable mansions had been erected by that class. It is an error to suppose that the English gentry were lodged in stately, or even in well-sized houses. They usually consisted of an entrance-passage, running through the house, with a hall on one side, a parlour beyond, and one or two chambers above; and on the opposite side, a kitchen, pantry, and other offices. Such was the ordinary manor-house of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. "In the remains of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, Somersetshire is especially rich. Almost every village has a house, a parsonage, or some building or other of this class, to say nothing of extensive monastic remains, as at Glastonbury, Woodspring, Muchelney, and Old Cleve. Among the Somersetshire houses, the original portions of Clevedon Court may claim the first place. Then comes a long list, of which, perhaps, the manor-house and 'fish-house' of Meare, near Glastonbury, are the most curious and beautiful."[38]
Larger houses were erected by men of great estates during the reigns of Henry VI. and Edward IV.; but very few can be traced higher; and Mr. Hallam, in his History of the Middle Ages, conceives it to be difficult to name a house in England, still inhabited by a gentleman, and not of the castle description, the principal apartments of which are older than the reign of Henry VII. There may be a few solitary specimens of earlier date. The Rev. Mr. Lysons says:—"The most remarkable fragment of early building which I have anywhere found mentioned, is at a house in Berkshire, called Appleton, where there is a sort of prodigy—an entrance-passage with circular arches in the Saxon (? Norman) style, which must, probably, be as old as the reign of Henry II. No other private house in England, as I conceive, can boast of such a monument of antiquity."
Wood and stone were the earliest materials used in house-building; but as great part of England affords no stone fit for building, her oak-forests were thinned, and less durable dwellings were erected with inferior timber. Stone houses are, however, mentioned as belonging to the citizens of London, even in the latter half of the twelfth century. Flints bound together with strong cement were employed in building manor-houses. Hewn stone was employed for castles, and the larger mansions: much stone was, in early times, brought from Normandy. Chestnut was much employed. Evelyn, in his Sylva, states that "The chestnut is, next the oak, one of the most sought after by the carpenter and joiner. It hath formerly built a good part of our ancient houses in the City of London, as does yet appear. I had once a very large barn near the City, framed entirely of this timber; and certainly the trees grew not far off, probably in some woods near the town; for in that description of London, written by Fitz-Stephen, in the reign of Henry II. he speaks of a very noble and large forest which grew on the boreal [north] part of it."[39]
Ducarel, in his Anglo-Norman Antiquities, says: "Rudhall, near Ross, in Herefordshire, is built with chestnut, which probably grew on the estate, although no tree of the kind is now to be found growing wild in that part of the country. The old houses in the city of Gloucester are constructed of chestnut, derived assuredly from the chestnut-trees in the forest of Dean. In some of the oldest houses of Faversham much genuine chestnut as well as oak is employed. In the nunnery of Davington, near Faversham (now entire), the timber consists of oak, intermingled with chestnut."
In the fourteenth century, ornamental carpentry had reached a high degree of excellence. There are many examples of ancient timber houses yet remaining in this country: they have massive beams and timbers, and are generally of unnecessary strength. The intermixture of wood, brick, and stone, or wood and plaster, in the exterior of houses, was, for a considerable period, the common style of building in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. Weatherboard—that is, planks overlapping each other—was formerly much used for house-fronts, and possessed great durability. Overhanging roofs, walls of plaster with lofty gables, bay-windows, and porches of timber, with each story projecting beyond the other, are so many characteristics of a mixed style, when the rude dangers of the timber houses became progressively intermingled with the massive architecture of a subsequent period; and the external use of timber in the walls continued to prevail for a very long time. Beaconsfield Rectory, of the sixteenth century, has the basement story completely built of glazed bricks in chequered patterns; the superincumbent story has elevated roofs and gables, and is constructed with massive timbers placed near together, and plastered between. The staircase, which is semi-cylindrical and composed of timber, is added to the north side of the house. The entire structure forms three sides of a quadrangle, with a lofty wall and entrance on the fourth; its interior is rude and massive.
In an account of a topographical excursion in 1634, the hall of Kenilworth is described with a roof "all of Irish wood, neatly and handsomely framed;" in it are five chimneys, "answerable to so great a room:" then we read of the Guard, Presence, and Privy chambers, fretted above richly with coats of arms, and all adorned with fair and rich chimney-pieces of alabaster, black marble, and joiners' work in curiously carved wood; all the fair and rich rooms and lodgings in the spacious tower not long since built, and repaired at great cost by Leicester. "The priuate, plaine, retiring-chamber wherein or renowned Queene of euer famous memory, alwayes made choice to repose her Selfe. Also the famous, strong old tower, called Julius Cæsar's, on top whereof was view'd the pleasant, large Poole continually sporting and playing on the Castle: the Parke, and the fforest contiguous thereto." Kenilworth has been already described at pp. 101-103.
Many a middle-aged reader can recollect the disappearance of rows of gabled houses, with timber and plaster fronts, from the metropolis: great part of the High-street of Southwark, built in this manner, was taken down between 1810 and 1831; at the latter period, some houses with ornamental plaster fronts disappeared. In Chancery-lane, a very old thoroughfare, several houses of this class have been taken down within memory; and many an old house-front, with ornamental carving, is missed from the Strand; a few linger in Holywell-street and Wych-street. And, in 1865, was taken down one side of Great Winchester-street, stated to be one of the oldest specimens of domestic architecture remaining in the metropolis. The casement hung on hinges was the earliest form of window, properly so called. Sash-windows were not introduced till the early part of the reign of Charles I., and were not general till the latter part of the time of Queen Anne.
In the construction of farm-houses and cottages there have been, probably, fewer changes than in large mansions. Cottages in England seem to have generally consisted of a single room, without division of stories. The Spaniards who came to England in Queen Mary's time, wondered when they saw the large diet used by the inmates of the most homely-looking cottages. "The English, they said, make their houses of sticks and dirt, but they fare as well as the king; whereby it appeareth (says Harrison), that they like better of our goode fare in such coarse cabins, than of their own thin diet in their princelike habitations and palaces."
In various counties we can scarcely fail to be struck with the difference in the forms of the cottages, as in the height of the building, the pitch of the roof, as well as the materials. Only let the traveller on the Brighton railway look out after he has passed Redhill, and he may see evidence of the truth of the above remark. Cobbett has left us this charming picture of the Sussex cottages in one of his Rural Rides:—
"I never had," he writes, "that I recollect, a more pleasant journey, or ride, than this into Sussex. The weather was pleasant, the elder-trees in full bloom, and they make a fine show; the woods just in their greatest beauty; the grass-fields generally uncut; and the little gardens of the labourers full of flowers; the roses and honeysuckles perfuming the air at every cottage door. Throughout all England, these cottages and gardens are the most interesting objects that the country presents, and they are particularly so in Kent and Sussex. This part of these counties has the great blessing of numerous woods; these furnish fuel, nice, sweet fuel, for the heating of ovens and all other purposes: they afford materials for the making of pretty pigsties, hurdles, and dead fences, of various sorts; they afford materials for making little cow-sheds; for the sticking of peas and beans in the gardens; and for giving to everything a neat and substantial appearance. These gardens, and the look of the cottages, the little flower-gardens, which you everywhere see, and the beautiful hedges of thorn and of privet,—these are the objects to delight the eyes, to gladden the heart, and to fill it with gratitude to God, and love for the people; and as far as my observation has gone, they are objects to be seen in no other country in the world. Those who see nothing but the nasty, slovenly places in which labourers live round London, know nothing of England. The fruit-trees are all kept in the nicest order; every bit of paling or wall is made use of, for the training of some sort or other. At Lamberhurst, which is one of the most beautiful villages that ever man set his eyes on, I saw what I never saw before, namely, a gooseberry-tree trained against a house. The house was one of those ancient buildings, consisting of a frame of oak-wood, the interval filled up with brick, plastered over. The tree had been planted at the foot of one of the perpendicular pieces of wood; from the stem which mounted up this piece of wood were taken side limbs, to run along the horizontal pieces. There were two windows, round the frame of each of which the limbs had been trained. The height of the highest shoot was about ten feet from the ground, and the horizontal shoots from each side were from eight to ten feet in length. The tree had been judiciously pruned, and all the limbs were full of very large gooseberries, considering the age of the fruit. This is only one instance out of thousands that I saw of extraordinary pains taken with the gardens."
Those who love the picturesque will excuse our halting to sketch an episode from the history of the royal forest of Ashdown, in Sussex, once possessed by John of Gaunt, and hence called "Lancaster great Park." Upon the borders of the forest lies the manor of Brambertie of Domesday, and Brambletye of Horace Smith; the home of the Comptons, and in the tale of fiction, as in fact, dismantled by Parliament troopers, and within two centuries a ruin. Richard Lewknor is the first person described as of Brambletye. He most probably built in one of the forest glens the moated mansion known as "Old Brambletye House," which, with its gables and clustered chimneys, and its moat and drawbridge, long remained an interesting specimen of the fortified manor-house of the reign of Henry VII. We remember the old place, some sixty years since, but it has long been taken down. Towards the middle of the seventeenth century, Brambletye came into the possession of the Comptons, an ancient Roman Catholic family; and here Sir Henry Compton built himself, from an Italian design, another Brambletye House, of the white stone of the country. Over the principal entrance to the mansion were sculptured the coat-armour of Compton, with the arms of Spencer, in a shield, on the dexter side: and on the upper story was cut in stone, C. H. M. 1631. This fixes the period when the house was built; and when Sir Henry Compton, who had before inhabited the old moated house in the neighbourhood, abandoned it to take up his residence in this once elegant and substantial baronial mansion.
From the court-rolls of the manor, it does not appear who succeeded the Comptons in the property; but Sir James Rickards, in his patent of baronetcy, 1683-4, is described as of Brambletye House. The story goes, that "a proprietor of the mansion being suspected of treasonable purposes, officers of justice were dispatched to search the premises, when a considerable quantity of arms and military stores was discovered and removed; he was out hunting at the time, but receiving intimation of the circumstance, deemed it most prudent to abscond." The historical version is, that in the Civil War, Sir John Compton, a true Royalist, took an active part against the Parliament armies: although never capable of any regular defence, yet Brambletye, being partially fortified, refused the summons of the Parliamentary Colonel Okey, by whom it was invested and speedily taken. The mansion was subsequently deserted. From a sketch taken in 1780, the principal front was nearly entire: it consisted of three square towers, the entrance doorway being in the central tower; the two wings had handsome bay-windows; the three towers were surmounted with cupolas and weather-vanes; but one had half its cupola shattered away, and was internally blackened, as if with gunpowder. In front of the house were an inclosed courtyard and two entrance-gates, one flanked by two massive, square towers, with cupolas. Horace Smith having named his romance Brambletye House, the opening scenes being laid there, has sent hundreds of tourists to pic-nic among the ruins; but the spoilers were constantly at work. Some fifteen years ago, "all that remained of Brambletye House was one of the towers clothed with stately ivy, and little more than one story of each of the other towers; the intervening portions, with their bay-windows, had disappeared. Nature had, however, lent a helping hand: by the shrubby trees and the ivy, the ruins had gained that picturesqueness which so often lends a graceful charm to scenes of decaying art."[40]