The same impulse which brought about so great a change in external treatment, led also to corresponding developments in the internal decorations: magnificence and comfort went hand in hand. The great chimneys which have been referred to as forming such conspicuous features outside, implied a considerable increase of fireplaces within. Harrison, in his contribution to “Hollinshed’s Chronicles” (1577), mentions “the multitude of chimneys lately erected.” Every room of importance by this time had at least one, and the large rooms frequently had two. It was this multiplication of flues which led to their striking external treatment. The increase was only one of the effects of the continual pursuit of comfort which underlay all the changes in domestic arrangement. In other directions the pursuit was successful owing to the changed condition of the times, which no longer demanded security against attack. Elizabethan houses were built for comfort, and many of them for magnificence. Being no longer hampered by the need for precautions against forcible entry, designers laid themselves out to obtain a convenient disposition of rooms so far as that was compatible with a dignified, and often splendid, treatment, and the demands of a symmetry which grew more and more insistent. The accommodation of the larger houses of that time suffices for the present day, although its disposition is often at variance with our wants. The actual decoration of the rooms is still frequently taken as a model for imitation and even reproduction.

The bare walls of mediæval houses had already been plastered in the better rooms, and the plaster had been ornamented in various simple ways by painted patterns. This custom was still retained to a certain extent in Elizabeth’s time. But the old fashion of wainscoting rooms, that is, panelling with oak, was considerably extended, and all the principal rooms were thus treated. The development of panelling is of much interest, but is of rather too intricate a nature to be traced here in any detail: suffice it to say that the earliest form of ornamental panels appears to be what is called the linen pattern, in which the surface of the panel itself was so carved as to bear a resemblance to a piece of stiffly and symmetrically folded linen (Fig. 131). This fashion was in vogue from the latter part of the fifteenth century, throughout the reign of Henry VII. and well into that of Henry VIII. With the advent of the Italian manner, the panels became carved with large and somewhat coarse arabesque work, fantastic animals were introduced, and, notably, human heads set in circular frames (Fig. 132). Another pattern peculiar to this period, and one which can neither trace a certain origin from anything before it, nor be traced through any direct descendant, is partly shown in the same illustration. It is formed of two curved ribs set back to back, but in this particular instance the circular panel is interposed between the upper and lower halves of the pattern. A panel from Layer Marney (Fig. 133) shows it more clearly, and it is just possible that in the panel at South Kensington (Fig. 134) we have the origin of this curious and fleeting form. Elizabethan panelling is less fanciful in treatment, its effect being obtained, when anything more elaborate than oblong moulded panels was introduced, not by carving, but an increased intricacy of framing, and occasionally by an inlay of coloured wood. This intricacy became more pronounced in Jacobean work, which on the whole is more complicated than Elizabethan. A fine example of early seventeenth-century panelling is to be seen at Calgarth Old Hall in Westmorland (Fig. 135), where the main panels are subdivided by an insertion of diamond shape, and the topmost tier is in every case arched. An invariable characteristic of panelling down to about 1630 is the comparatively small size of the panels, which seldom exceeded 2 ft. in their longest dimension. They offer in this respect a complete contrast to those which came into vogue about the middle of the seventeenth century. But, although the great amount of panelling which still survives in all parts of the country shows that it was universally adopted, yet the old-fashioned tapestry played an important part in the clothing of the walls, from the splendid pieces, brought from all parts of Europe, with which Cardinal Wolsey adorned his great palace of Hampton Court, down to the “smirched worm-eaten tapestry” of Borachio’s illustration, or the arras of the inn where Falstaff soaked himself in such an intolerable deal of sack.

The plasterer’s art blossomed out into wonderful results. Founding his designs at first on the wood-ribbed ceilings of his youth, he gradually elaborated them into the amazing richness which characterises the end of the sixteenth century. The variety of his patterns is wonderful, and, considering the number of ceilings which are left, it is surprising how seldom two instances of the same design are found. As a rule great judgment was shown in the choice of patterns: simple designs of slight projection being used in low rooms, and more elaborate ones of heavier section in lofty rooms. Frequently in the latter the principal points in the design were emphasised by pendants, which broke the monotony and added greatly to the richness of the effect.

At Parham in Sussex (Fig. 136) is an example of this treatment, which, indeed, would be almost meagre, were it not for the pendants. This room is the great hall, and, it will be observed, is covered with a flat ceiling instead of an open timber roof. The latter form of covering, which had been customary from the earliest times, was giving place, in the early part of the seventeenth century, to the ceiling, inasmuch as the height of houses was increasing, and an upper storey was formed over the hall. In some cases, where vacant space permitted, plaster ceilings, instead of being flat, were carried up and formed into a large cove as is the case at Herringstone in Dorset (Fig. 137), which is one of the most notable of its kind. The pattern is of the simplest, but gains much character from being on the curve; the main ribs are bent down at intervals, where they intersect, to form the root of pendants which vary in their forms. The tympanum on the end wall, resulting from the curves of the ceiling, is also ornamented with a suitable pattern, and the cornice, making the circuit of the room, binds the whole together with its strong horizontal lines. There is another fine coved ceiling at Canons Ashby in Northamptonshire, differing in treatment from this at Herringstone by reason of its being curved all four ways, the point of intersection being furnished with a large, open pendant. The work in these old ceilings is generally too irregular to suit the correct taste of the modern workman, yet the effect is softer and more pleasing than that of the mechanical accuracy of the present day.

The variety of ornament in the ceilings of this period is extraordinary; sometimes it was merely a geometrical pattern duly repeated; sometimes a flowing pattern so varied that not a single portion of it occurs twice, save that the two halves of the ceiling are repeated in reverse fashion. Then, again, there is a strong simple framework with all the interspaces decorated either with floral ornament or subjects of natural history, or, still oftener, heraldic devices. As Gray says, in those days they employed the power of fairy hands

This, it is true, is a poetic licence, for the panels seldom exhibited more than the family cognizance or coat of arms. The achievement, that is the shield, crest, mantling, and supporters, was reserved for very special cases, such as is shown in the fine panel of the royal arms of James I. from Apethorpe Hall in Northamptonshire (Fig. 138).

In spite of the elaboration of the detail, the general effect of these ceilings was quiet; and the same may be said of the wall panelling. To prevent monotony or tameness of appearance, a handsome treatment was often bestowed on special features, such as doorways and chimney-pieces, more particularly the latter. The doorways were frequently emphasised by pilasters and cornice; in the great hall the screen was elaborately decorated with panels, pilasters, and cornice. Heraldry was again brought in to aid the effect, thus at once gratifying the foible of family pride, and imparting an air of dignity and splendour to the room. The chimney-piece was nearly always finely treated, whether it was of wood or of stone. Columns, pilasters, or grotesques supported a lofty shelf above the vast fireplace; over the shelf the design extended itself upwards with large panels, fantastic pilasters, and elaborate ornament till it was crowned with a cornice supporting, or seeming to support, the ceiling itself (Fig. 139). Heraldry, mythology, pedantry, sententiousness, all went to adorn the chimney-piece. The family arms, or incidents from a classic tale, or virtues personified, supplied the chief interest, while pithy inscriptions, generally in Latin, added a touch of that learning which was supposed to be the possession of all the well-to-do.

Shakespeare draws a picture of an Elizabethan room when he makes Iachimo describe Imogen’s chamber:—

The drawing is true, with its tapestry, its chimney-piece, and its ceiling, all taking their inspiration from Italian sources. The “golden cherubims” are but a poetical version of the winged amorini of Italy.

The chimney-pieces of that time are as numerous as the fretted ceilings, and as varied in design. Many of them are of stone, still more of wood, and a few are of coloured marbles. In a large number the portion above the fireplace contains two panels, filled more often than not with shields of arms. One of these would bear the family coat simply; the other the quarterings of the owner at the time, or his own arms impaling those of his wife; these arms are frequently useful in identifying the builder of the house and in fixing its date. Sometimes the date itself was carved in a subsidiary panel, as is the case in the example from Deene Park (Fig. 140), which not only presents a fine display of heraldry, but bears the sententious inscription, “Amicus fidelis protexio fortis,” and the date 1571. This chimney-piece is in stone; a smaller one from a house in King’s Lynn is in wood, and is dated 1623 (Fig. 141). The work, both in the panelling and carving, is excellent. Another example in wood, of great elaboration, is from the hall of the butchers’ guild in Hereford (Fig. 142).

Another of the special characteristics of houses of this period is the staircase. It has already been said that no examples are found previous to Elizabeth’s time of anything but extremely simple stairs, generally of the corkscrew type, but sometimes consisting of straight flights in the thickness of a wall. These forms were still in use in the latter part of the sixteenth century: Rothwell Market House in Northamptonshire (1577) was to have had a circular stair; and Hardwick Hall in Derbyshire (1576) has nothing but plain flights of steps, nothing which can be considered an ornamental staircase. But these were the exceptions; the rule was to have a broad staircase, generally of wood, with short runs of steps leading from landing to landing: the newel posts were stout and tall, and carried up well above the handrail, their tops being either wrought into striking shapes, or crowned with heraldic animals. When the staircase extended to many flights, the effect was very fine, as may be seen in the example from Crewe Hall (Fig. 143). The handrail was massive, and the space between it and the stout string was filled with thick turned balusters, or occasionally with wood pierced in patterns. In a few instances a gate is to be found across the stairs, placed there to prevent dogs from roaming over the whole house. There is a good example at Hatfield House, and another at Cold Overton in Leicestershire (Fig. 144). At Rawdon House near Hoddesdon, there is a good staircase with heraldic newels and a pierced balustrade. It leads up to a landing on which is an elaborate doorway of one of the principal chambers (Fig. 145). Innumerable other fine staircases might be mentioned, but these examples will suffice to indicate the style prevalent in the time of Elizabeth and James.

These staircases led up to important rooms: to the great chamber and the long gallery, as well as to the bedrooms. The great chamber was a room of state, and answered somewhat to the drawing-room of the present day. It was, of course, decorated in the usual way with panelled walls, fretted ceiling, and a large chimney-piece. So, too, was the long gallery, perhaps the most characteristic room of an Elizabethan house. The earliest instance of a long gallery seems to have been at Hampton Court, of a date about 1540. It continued in fashion, designers vying in their endeavours to give it extraordinary length, until the time of Charles I., when, under the changed ideas as to household arrangement which then prevailed, it disappeared. Its precise object is not quite clear. At Apethorpe it was intended as a music-room, as testified by the inscription on the chimney-piece:—

Sir Henry Wotton, in his “Elements of Architecture,” implies that it was a place for indoor exercise, for he says, in advising as to the aspect of the principal rooms of a house, that on the north side should be placed “all that are appointed for gentle motion, as galleries.” It can hardly have been meant for pictures, as the fashion of collecting them and articles de vertu had not yet arisen. Galleries were generally lighted all down one side and at one or both ends; indeed, continuous lighting was necessary, for their immense length would have rendered lighting from the ends only utterly futile. The illustration from Astley Hall, Lancashire (Fig. 146), gives a good idea of one of these rooms: it is probable, however, that its interest was originally enhanced by an elaborate plaster ceiling.

Most of the bedrooms, at any rate those of any importance, were decorated in the same way as the living rooms; panelled walls, heraldic ceilings, and good chimney-pieces are still to be found in many bedrooms even of moderate size.