IN STREETS AND LANES

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Inscription in the Mermaid Inn, Rye

CHAPTER IV

IN STREETS AND LANES

I have said in another place that no country in the world can boast of possessing

rural homes and villages which have half the charm and picturesqueness of our

English cottages and hamlets.10 They have to be known in order that they may be

loved. The hasty visitor may pass them by and miss half their attractiveness. They

have to be wooed in varying moods in order that they may display their charms--

when the blossoms are bright in the village orchards, when the sun shines on the

streams and pools and gleams on the glories of old thatch, when autumn has tinged

the trees with golden tints, or when the hoar frost makes their bare branches

beautiful again with new and glistening foliage. Not even in their summer garb do

they look more beautiful. There is a sense of stability and a wondrous variety

caused by the different nature of the materials used, the peculiar stone indigenous

in various districts and the individuality stamped upon them by traditional modes of

building.

We have still a large number of examples of the humbler kind of ancient domestic

architecture, but every year sees the destruction of several of these old buildings,

which a little care and judicious restoration might have saved. Ruskin's words

should be writ in bold, big letters at the head of the by-laws of every district

council.

"Watch an old building with anxious care; guard it as best you may,

and at any cost, from any influence of dilapidation. Count its stones as

you would the jewels of a crown. Set watchers about it, as if at the gate

of a besieged city; bind it together with iron when it loosens; stay it

with timber when it declines. Do not care about the unsightliness of the

aid--better a crutch than a lost limb; and do this tenderly and

reverently and continually, and many a generation will still be born and

pass away beneath its shadow."

Relic of Lynn Siege in Hampton Court, King's Lynn

Hampton Court, King's Lynn, Norfolk

If this sound advice had been universally taken many a beautiful old cottage would

have been spared to us, and our eyes would not be offended by the wondrous

creations of the estate agents and local builders, who have no other ambition but to

build cheaply. The contrast between the new and the old is indeed deplorable. The

old cottage is a thing of beauty. Its odd, irregular form and various harmonious

colouring, the effects of weather, time, and accident, environed with smiling

verdure and sweet old-fashioned garden flowers, its thatched roof, high gabled

front, inviting porch overgrown with creepers, and casement windows, all combine

to form a fair and beautiful home. And then look at the modern cottage with its

glaring brick walls, slate roof, ungainly stunted chimney, and note the difference.

Usually these modern cottages are built in a row, each one exactly like its fellow,

with door and window frames exactly alike, brought over ready-made from Norway

or Sweden. The walls are thin, and the winds of winter blow through them

piteously, and if a man and his wife should unfortunately "have words" (the

pleasing country euphemism for a violent quarrel) all their neighbours can hear

them. The scenery is utterly spoilt by these ugly eyesores. Villas at Hindhead seem

to have broken out upon the once majestic hill like a red skin eruption. The jerry-

built villa is invading our heaths and pine-woods; every street in our towns is

undergoing improvement; we are covering whole counties with houses. In

Lancashire no sooner does one village end its mean streets than another begins.

London is ever enlarging itself, extending its great maw over all the country round.

The Rev. Canon Erskine Clarke, Vicar of Battersea, when he first came to reside

near Clapham Junction, remembers the green fields and quiet lanes with trees on

each side that are now built over. The street leading from the station lined with

shops forty years ago had hedges and trees on each side. There were great houses

situated in beautiful gardens and parks wherein resided some of the great City

merchants, county families, the leaders in old days of the influential "Clapham

sect." These gardens and parks have been covered with streets and rows of cottages

and villas; some of the great houses have been pulled down and others turned into

schools or hospitals, valued only at the rent of the land on which they stand. All this

is inevitable. You cannot stop all this any more than Mrs. Partington could stem the

Atlantic tide with a housemaid's mop. But ere the flood has quite swallowed up all

that remains of England's natural and architectural beauties, it may be useful to

glance at some of the buildings that remain in town and country ere they have quite

vanished.

Mill Street, Warwick

Beneath the shade of the lordly castle of Warwick, which has played such an

important part in the history of England, the town of Warwick sprang into

existence, seeking protection in lawless times from its strong walls and powerful

garrison. Through its streets often rode in state the proud rulers of the castle with

their men-at-arms--the Beauchamps, the Nevilles, including the great "King-

maker," Richard Neville, the Dudleys, and the Grevilles. They contributed to the

building of their noble castle, protected the town, and were borne to their last

resting-place in the fine church, where their tombs remain. The town has many

relics of its lords, and possesses many half-timbered graceful houses. Mill Street is

one of the most picturesque groups of old-time dwellings, a picture that lingers in

our minds long after we have left the town and fortress of the grim old Earls of

Warwick.

Oxford is a unique city. There is no place like it in the world. Scholars of

Cambridge, of course, will tell me that I am wrong, and that the town on the Cam is

a far superior place, and then point triumphantly to "the backs." Yes, they are very

beautiful, but as a loyal son of Oxford I may be allowed to prefer that stately city

with its towers and spires, its wealth of college buildings, its exquisite architecture

unrivalled in the world. Nor is the new unworthy of the old. The buildings at

Magdalen, at Brazenose, and even the New Schools harmonize not unseemly with

the ancient structures. Happily Keble is far removed from the heart of the city, so

that that somewhat unsatisfactory, unsuccessful pile of brickwork interferes not

with its joy. In the streets and lanes of modern Oxford we can search for and

discover many types of old-fashioned, humble specimens of domestic art, and we

give as an illustration some houses which date back to Tudor times, but have, alas!

been recently demolished.

Tudor Tenements, New Inn Hall St, Oxford. Now demolished.

Many conjectures have been made as to the reason why our forefathers preferred to

rear their houses with the upper storeys projecting out into the streets. We can

understand that in towns where space was limited it would be an advantage to

increase the size of the upper rooms, if one did not object to the lack of air in the

narrow street and the absence of sunlight. But we find these same projecting storeys

in the depth of the country, where there could have been no restriction as to the

ground to be occupied by the house. Possibly the fashion was first established of

necessity in towns, and the traditional mode of building was continued in the

country. Some say that by this means our ancestors tried to protect the lower part of

the house, the foundations, from the influence of the weather; others with some

ingenuity suggest that these projecting storeys were intended to form a covered

walk for passengers in the streets, and to protect them from the showers of slops

which the careless housewife of Elizabethan times cast recklessly from the upstairs

windows. Architects tell us that it was purely a matter of construction. Our

forefathers used to place four strong corner-posts, framed from the trunks of oak

trees, firmly sunk into the ground with their roots left on and placed upward, the

roots curving outwards so as to form supports for the upper storeys. These curved

parts, and often the posts also, were often elaborately carved and ornamented, as in

the example which our artist gives us of a corner-post of a house in Ipswich.

In The Charm of the English Village I have tried to describe the methods of the

construction of these timber-framed houses,11 and it is perhaps unnecessary for me

to repeat what is there recorded. In fact, there were three types of these dwelling-

places, to which have been given the names Post and Pan, Transom Framed, and

Intertie Work. In judging of the age of a house it will be remembered that the

nearer together the upright posts are placed the older the house is. The builders as

time went on obtained greater confidence, set their posts wider apart, and held them

together by transoms.

Gothic Corner-post. The Half Moon Inn, Ipswich

Surrey is a county of good cottages and farm-houses, and these have had their

chroniclers in Miss Gertrude Jekyll's delightful Old West Surrey and in the more

technical work of Mr. Ralph Nevill, F.S.A. The numerous works on cottage and

farm-house building published by Mr. Batsford illustrate the variety of styles that

prevailed in different counties, and which are mainly attributable to the variety in

the local materials in the counties. Thus in the Cotswolds, Northamptonshire,

Derbyshire, Yorkshire, Westmorland, Somersetshire, and elsewhere there is good

building-stone; and there we find charming examples of stone-built cottages and

farm-houses, altogether satisfying. In several counties where there is little stone and

large forests of timber we find the timber-framed dwelling flourishing in all its

native beauty. In Surrey there are several materials for building, hence there is a

charming diversity of domiciles. Even the same building sometimes shows walls of

stone and brick, half-timber and plaster, half-timber and tile-hanging, half-timber

with panels filled with red brick, and roofs of thatch or tiles, or stone slates which

the Horsham quarries supplied.

Timber-built House, Shrewsbury

These Surrey cottages have changed with age. Originally they were built with

timber frames, the panels being filled in with wattle and daub, but the storms of

many winters have had their effect upon the structure. Rain drove through the

walls, especially when the ends of the wattle rotted a little, and draughts were

strong enough to blow out the rushlights and to make the house very

uncomfortable. Oak timbers often shrink. Hence the joints came apart, and being

exposed to the weather became decayed. In consequence of this the buildings

settled, and new methods had to be devised to make them weather-proof. The

villages therefore adopted two or three means in order to attain this end. They

plastered the whole surface of the walls on the outside, or they hung them with deal

boarding or covered them with tiles. In Surrey tile-hung houses are more common

than in any other part of the country. This use of weather-tiles is not very ancient,

probably not earlier than 1750, and much of this work was done in that century or

early in the nineteenth. Many of these tile-hung houses are the old sixteenth-

century timber-framed structures in a new shell. Weather-tiles are generally flatter

and thinner than those used for roofing, and when bedded in mortar make a

thoroughly weather-proof wall. Sometimes they are nailed to boarding, but the

former plan makes the work more durable, though the courses are not so regular.

These tiles have various shapes, of which the commonest is semicircular,

resembling a fish-scale. The same form with a small square shoulder is very

generally used, but there is a great variety, and sometimes those with ornamental

ends are blended with plain ones. Age imparts a very beautiful colour to old tiles,

and when covered with lichen they assume a charming appearance which artists

love to depict.

The mortar used in these old buildings is very strong and good. In order to

strengthen the mortar used in Sussex and Surrey houses and elsewhere, the process

of "galleting" or "garreting" was adopted. The brick-layers used to decorate the

rather wide and uneven mortar joint with small pieces of black ironstone stuck into

the mortar. Sussex was once famous for its ironwork, and ironstone is found in

plenty near the surface of the ground in this district. "Galleting" dates back to

Jacobean times, and is not to be found in sixteenth-century work.

Sussex houses are usually whitewashed and have thatched roofs, except when

Horsham slates or tiles are used. Thatch as a roofing material will soon have

altogether vanished with other features of vanishing England. District councils in

their by-laws usually insert regulations prohibiting thatch to be used for roofing.

This is one of the mysteries of the legislation of district councils. Rules, suitable

enough for towns, are applied to the country villages, where they are altogether

unsuitable or unnecessary. The danger of fire makes it inadvisable to have thatched

roofs in towns, or even in some villages where the houses are close together, but

that does not apply to isolated cottages in the country. The district councils do not

compel the removal of thatch, but prohibit new cottages from being roofed with

that material. There is, however, another cause for the disappearance of thatched

roofs, which form such a beautiful feature in the English landscape. Since mowing-

machines came into general use in the harvest fields the straw is so bruised that it is

not fit for thatching, at least it is not so suitable as the straw which was cut by the

hand. Thatching, too, is almost a lost art in the country. Indeed ricks have to be

covered with thatch, but "the work for this temporary purpose cannot compare with

that of the old roof-thatcher, with his 'strood' or 'frail' to hold the loose straw, and

his spars--split hazel rods pointed at each end--that with a dexterous twist in the

middle make neat pegs for the fastening of the straw rope that he cleverly twists

with a simple implement called a 'wimble.' The lowest course was finished with an

ornamental bordering of rods with a diagonal criss-cross pattern between, all neatly

pegged and held down by the spars."12

Missbrook Farm. Capel. Surrey.

Horsham stone makes splendid roofing material. This stone easily flakes into plates

like thick slates, and forms large grey flat slabs on which "the weather works like a

great artist in harmonies of moss lichen and stain. No roofing so combines dignity

and homeliness, and no roofing, except possibly thatch (which, however, is short-

lived), so surely passes into the landscape."13 It is to be regretted that this stone is

no longer used for roofing--another feature of vanishing England. The stone is

somewhat thick and heavy, and modern rafters are not adapted to bear their weight.

If you want to have a roof of Horsham stone, you can only accomplish your

purpose by pulling down an old cottage and carrying off the slabs. Perhaps the

small Cotswold stone slabs are even more beautiful. Old Lancashire and Yorkshire

cottages have heavy stone roofs which somewhat resemble those fashioned with

Horsham slabs.

The builders and masons of our country cottages were cunning men, and adapted

their designs to their materials. You will have noticed that the pitch of the Horsham

-slated roof is unusually flat. They observed that when the sides of the roof were

deeply sloping, as in the case of thatched roofs, the heavy stone slates strained and

dragged at the pegs and laths and fell and injured the roof. Hence they determined

to make the slope less steep. Unfortunately the rain did not then easily run off, and

in order to prevent the water penetrating into the house they were obliged to adopt

additional precautions. Therefore they cemented their roofs and stopped them with

mortar.

Cottage at Capel, Surrey

Very lovely are these South Country cottages, peaceful, picturesque, pleasant, with

their graceful gables and jutting eaves, altogether delightful. Well sang a loyal

Sussex poet:--

If I ever become a rich man,

Or if ever I grow to be old,

I will build a house with deep thatch14

To shelter me from the cold;

And there shall the Sussex songs be sung

And the story of Sussex told.

We give some good examples of Surrey cottages at the village of Capel in the

neighbourhood of Dorking, a charming region for the study of cottage-building.

There you can see some charming ingle-nooks in the interior of the dwellings, and

some grand farm-houses. Attached to the ingle-nook is the oven, wherein bread is

baked in the old-fashioned way, and the chimneys are large and carried up above

the floor of the first storey, so as to form space for curing bacon.

Farm-house, Horsmonden, Kent

Horsmonden, Kent, near Lamberhurst, is beautifully situated among well-wooded

scenery, and the farm-house shown in the illustration is a good example of the

pleasant dwellings to be found therein.

East Anglia has no good building-stone, and brick and flint are the principal

materials used in that region. The houses built of the dark, dull, thin old bricks, not

of the great staring modern varieties, are very charming, especially when they are

seen against a background of wooded hills. We give an illustration of some cottages

at Stow Langtoft, Suffolk.

Seventeenth-century Cottages, Stow Langtoft, Suffolk

The old town of Banbury, celebrated for its cakes, its Cross, and its fine lady who

rode on a white horse accompanied by the sound of bells, has some excellent "black

and white" houses with pointed gables and enriched barge-boards pierced in every

variety of patterns, their finials and pendants, and pargeted fronts, which give an air

of picturesqueness contrasting strangely with the stiffness of the modern brick

buildings. In one of these is established the old Banbury Cake Shop. In the High

Street there is a very perfect example of these Elizabethan houses, erected about the

year 1600. It has a fine oak staircase, the newels beautifully carved and enriched

with pierced finials and pendants. The market-place has two good specimens of the

same date, one of which is probably the front of the Unicorn Inn, and had a fine

pair of wooden gates bearing the date 1684, but I am not sure whether they are still

there. The Reindeer Inn is one of the chief architectural attractions of the town. We

see the dates 1624 and 1637 inscribed on different parts of the building, but its

chief glory is the Globe Room, with a large window, rich plaster ceiling, good

panelling, elaborately decorated doorways and chimney-piece. The courtyard is a

fine specimen of sixteenth-century architecture. A curious feature is the mounting-

block near the large oriel window. It must have been designed not for mounting

horses, unless these were of giant size, but for climbing to the top of coaches. The

Globe Room is a typical example of Vanishing England, as it is reported that the

whole building has been sold for transportation to America. We give an illustration

of some old houses in Paradise Square, that does not belie its name. The houses all

round the square are thatched, and the gardens in the centre are a blaze of colour,

full of old-fashioned flowers. The King's Head Inn has a good courtyard. Banbury

suffered from a disastrous fire in 1628 which destroyed a great part of the town,

and called forth a vehement sermon from the Rev. William Whateley, of two hours'

duration, on the depravity of the town, which merited such a severe judgment. In

spite of the fire much old work survived, and we give an illustration of a Tudor fire

-place which you cannot now discover, as it is walled up into the passage of an

ironmonger's shop.

The "Fish House," Littleport, Cambs

The old ports and harbours are always attractive. The old fishermen mending their

nets delight to tell their stories of their adventures, and retain their old customs and

usages, which are profoundly interesting to the lovers of folk-lore. Their houses are

often primitive and quaint. There is the curious Fish House at Littleport,

Cambridgeshire, with part of it built of stone, having a gable and Tudor weather-

moulding over the windows. The rest of the building was added at a later date.

Sixteenth-century Cottage, formerly standing in Upper Deal, Kent

In Upper Deal there is an interesting house which shows Flemish influence in the

construction of its picturesque gable and octagonal chimney, and contrasted with it

an early sixteenth-century cottage much the worse for wear.

We give a sketch of a Portsmouth row which resembles in narrowness those at

Yarmouth, and in Crown Street there is a battered, three-gabled, weather-boarded

house which has evidently seen better days. There is a fine canopy over the front

door of Buckingham House, wherein George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, was

assassinated by John Felton on August 23rd, 1628.

Gable, Upper Deal, Kent

The Vale of Aylesbury is one of the sweetest and most charmingly characteristic

tracts of land in the whole of rural England, abounding with old houses. The whole

countryside literally teems with picturesque evidences of the past life and history of

England. Ancient landmarks and associations are so numerous that it is difficult to

mention a few without seeming to ignore unfairly their equally interesting

neighbours. Let us take the London road, which enters the shire from Middlesex

and makes for Aylesbury, a meandering road with patches of scenery strongly

suggestive of Birket Foster's landscapes. Down a turning at the foot of the lovely

Chiltern Hills lies the secluded village of Chalfont St. Giles. Here Milton, the poet,

sought refuge from plague-stricken London among a colony of fellow Quakers, and

here remains, in a very perfect state, the cottage in which he lived and was visited

by Andrew Marvel. It is said that his neighbour Elwood, one of the Quaker

fraternity, suggested the idea of "Paradise Regained," and that the draft of the latter

poem was written upon a great oak table which may be seen in one of the low-

pitched rooms on the ground floor. I fancy that Milton must have beautified and

repaired the cottage at the period of his tenancy. The mantelpiece with its classic

ogee moulding belongs certainly to his day, and some other minor details may also

be noticed which support this inference. It is not difficult to imagine that one who

was accustomed to metropolitan comforts would be dissatisfied with the open

hearth common to country cottages of that poet's time, and have it enclosed in the

manner in which we now see it. Outside the garden is brilliant with old-fashioned

flowers, such as the poet loved. A stone scutcheon may be seen peeping through the

shrubbery which covers the front of the cottage, but the arms which it displays are

those of the Fleetwoods, one time owners of these tenements. Between the years

1709 and 1807 the house was used as an inn. Milton's cottage is one of our national

treasures, which (though not actually belonging to the nation) has successfully

resisted purchase by our American cousins and transportation across the Atlantic.

A Portsmouth "Row"

The entrance to the churchyard in Chalfont St. Giles is through a wonderfully

picturesque turnstile or lich-gate under an ancient house in the High Street. The

gate formerly closed itself mechanically by means of a pulley to which was

attached a heavy weight. Unfortunately this weight was not boxed in--as in the

somewhat similar example at Hayes, in Middlesex--and an accident which

happened to some children resulted in its removal.

Lich-gate, Chalfont St. Giles, Bucks

A good many picturesque old houses remain in the village, among them being one

called Stonewall Farm, a structure of the fifteenth century with an original billet-

moulded porch and Gothic barge-boards.

There is a certain similarity about the villages that dot the Vale of Aylesbury. The

old Market House is usually a feature of the High Street--where it has not been

spoilt as at Wendover. Groups of picturesque timber cottages, thickest round the

church, and shouldered here and there by their more respectable and severe

Georgian brethren, are common to all, and vary but little in their general aspect and

colouring. Memories and legends haunt every hamlet, the very names of which

have an ancient sound carrying us vaguely back to former days. Prince's

Risborough, once a manor of the Black Prince; Wendover, the birthplace of Roger

of Wendover, the medieval historian, and author of the Chronicle Flores

Historiarum, or History of the World from the Creation to the year 1235, in

modern language a somewhat "large order"; Hampden, identified to all time with

the patriot of that name; and so on indefinitely. At Monk's Risborough, another

hamlet with an ancient-sounding name, but possessing no special history, is a

church of the Perpendicular period containing some features of exceptional interest,

and internally one of the most charmingly picturesque of its kind. The carved tie-

beams of the porch with their masks and tracery and the great stone stoup which

appears in one corner have an unrestored appearance which is quite delightful in

these days of over-restoration. The massive oak door has some curious iron fittings,

and the interior of the church itself displays such treasures as a magnificent early

Tudor roof and an elegant fifteenth-century chancel-screen, on the latter of which

some remains of ancient painting exist.15

Fifteenth-century Handle on Church Door, Monk's Risborough, Bucks

Thame, just across the Oxfordshire border, is another town of the greatest interest.

The noble parish church here contains a number of fine brasses and tombs,

including the recumbent effigies of Lord John Williams of Thame and his wife,

who flourished in the reign of Queen Mary. The chancel-screen is of uncommon

character, the base being richly decorated with linen panelling, while above rises an

arcade in which Gothic form mingles freely with the grotesqueness of the

Renaissance. The choir-stalls are also lavishly ornamented with the linen-fold

decoration.

The centre of Thame's broad High Street is narrowed by an island of houses, once

termed Middle Row, and above the jumble of tiled roofs here rises like a watch-

tower a most curious and interesting medieval house known as the "Bird Cage Inn."

About this structure little is known; it is, however, referred to in an old document as

the "tenement called the Cage, demised to James Rosse by indenture for the term of

100 years, yielding therefor by the year 8s.," and appears to have been a farm-

house. The document in question is a grant of Edward IV to Sir John William of the

Charity or Guild of St. Christopher in Thame, founded by Richard Quartemayne,

Squier, who died in the year 1460. This house, though in some respects adapted

during later years from its original plan, is structurally but little altered, and should

be taken in hand and intelligently restored as an object of local attraction and

interest. The choicest oaks of a small forest must have supplied its framework,

which stands firm as the day when it was built. The fine corner-posts (now

enclosed) should be exposed to view, and the mullioned windows which jut out

over a narrow passage should be opened up. If this could be done--and not

overdone--the "Bird Cage" would hardly be surpassed as a miniature specimen of

medieval timber architecture in the county. A stone doorway of Gothic form and a

kind of almery or safe exist in its cellars.

A school was founded at Thame by Lord John Williams, whose recumbent effigy

exists in the church, and amongst the students there during the second quarter of the

seventeenth century was Anthony Wood, the Oxford antiquary. Thame about this

time was the centre of military operations between the King's forces and the rebels,

and was continually being beaten up by one side or the other. Wood, though but a

boy at the time, has left on record in his narrative some vivid impressions of the

conflicts which he personally witnessed, and which bring the disjointed times

before us in a vision of strange and absolute reality.

He tells of Colonel Blagge, the Governor of Wallingford Castle, who was on a

marauding expedition, being chased through the streets of Thame by Colonel

Crafford, who commanded the Parliamentary garrison at Aylesbury, and how one

man fell from his horse, and the Colonel "held a pistol to him, but the trooper cried

'Quarter!' and the rebels came up and rifled him and took him and his horse away

with them." On another occasion, just as a company of Roundhead soldiers were

sitting down to dinner, a Cavalier force appeared "to beat up their quarters," and the

Roundheads retired in a hurry, leaving "A.W. and the schoolboyes, sojourners in

the house," to enjoy their venison pasties.

He tells also of certain doings at the Nag's Head, a house that still exists--a very

ancient hostelry, though not nearly so old a building as the Bird Cage Inn. The sign

is no longer there, but some interesting features remain, among them the huge strap

hinges on the outer door, fashioned at their extremities in the form of fleurs-de-lis.

We should like to linger long at Thame and describe the wonders at Thame Park,

with its remains of a Cistercian abbey and the fine Tudor buildings of Robert King,

last abbot and afterward the first Bishop of Oxford. The three fine oriel windows

and stair-turret, the noble Gothic dining-hall and abbot's parlour panelled with oak

in the style of the linen pattern, are some of the finest Tudor work in the country.

The Prebendal house and chapel built by Grossetête are also worthy of the closest

attention. The chapel is an architectural gem of Early English design, and the rest of

the house with its later Perpendicular windows is admirable. Not far away is the

interesting village of Long Crendon, once a market-town, with its fine church and

its many picturesque houses, including Staple Hall, near the church, with its noble

hall, used for more than five centuries as a manorial court-house on behalf of

various lords of the manor, including Queen Katherine, widow of Henry V. It has

now fortunately passed into the care of the National Trust, and its future is secured

for the benefit of the nation. The house is a beautiful half-timbered structure, and

was in a terribly dilapidated condition. It is interesting both historically and

architecturally, and is note-worthy as illustrating the continuity of English life, that

the three owners from whom the Trust received the building, Lady Kinloss, All

Souls' College, and the Ecclesiastical Commissioners, are the successors in title of

three daughters of an Earl of Pembroke in the thirteenth century. It is fortunate that

the old house has fallen into such good hands. The village has a Tudor manor-

house which has been restored.

Another court-house, that at Udimore, in Sussex, near Rye, has, we believe, been

saved by the Trust, though the owner has retained possession. It is a picturesque

half-timbered building of two storeys with modern wings projecting at right angles

at each end. The older portion is all that remains of a larger house which appears to

have been built in the fifteenth century. The manor belonged to the Crown, and it is

said that both Edward I and Edward III visited it. The building was in a very

dilapidated condition, and the owner intended to destroy it and replace it with

modern cottages. We hope that this scheme has now been abandoned, and that the

old house is safe for many years to come.

Weather-boarded Houses, Crown Street, Portsmouth

At the other end of the county of Oxfordshire remote from Thame is the beautiful

little town of Burford, the gem of the Cotswolds. No wonder that my friend

"Sylvanus Urban," otherwise Canon Beeching, sings of its charm:--

Oh fair is Moreton in the marsh

And Stow on the wide wold,

Yet fairer far is Burford town

With its stone roofs grey and old;

And whether the sky be hot and high,

Or rain fall thin and chill,

The grey old town on the lonely down

Is where I would be still.

O broad and smooth the Avon flows

By Stratford's many piers;

And Shakespeare lies by Avon's side

These thrice a hundred years;

But I would be where Windrush sweet

Laves Burford's lovely hill--

The grey old town on the lonely down

Is where I would be still.

It is unlike any other place, this quaint old Burford, a right pleasing place when the

sun is pouring its beams upon the fantastic creations of the builders of long ago,

and when the moon is full there is no place in England which surpasses it in

picturesqueness. It is very quiet and still now, but there was a time when Burford

cloth, Burford wool, Burford stone, Burford malt, and Burford saddles were

renowned throughout the land. Did not the townsfolk present two of its famous

saddles to "Dutch William" when he came to Burford with the view of ingratiating

himself into the affections of his subjects before an important general election? It

has been the scene of battles. Not far off is Battle Edge, where the fierce kings of

Wessex and Mercia fought in 720 A.D. on Midsummer Eve, in commemoration of

which the good folks of Burford used to carry a dragon up and down the streets, the

great dragon of Wessex. Perhaps the origin of this procession dates back to early

pagan days before the battle was fought, but tradition connects it with the fight.

Memories cluster thickly around one as you walk up the old street. It was the first

place in England to receive the privilege of a Merchant Guild. The gaunt Earl of

Warwick, the King-maker, owned the place, and appropriated to himself the credit

of erecting the almshouses, though Henry Bird gave the money. You can still see

the Earl's signature at the foot of the document relating to this foundation--R.

Warrewych--the only signature known save one at Belvoir. You can see the ruined

Burford Priory. It is not the conventual building wherein the monks lived in pre-

Reformation days and served God in the grand old church that is Burford's chief

glory. Edmund Harman, the royal barber-surgeon, received a grant of the Priory

from Henry VIII for curing him from a severe illness. Then Sir Laurence Tanfield,

Chief Baron of the Exchequer, owned it, who married a Burford lady, Elizabeth

Cobbe. An aged correspondent tells me that in the days of her youth there was

standing a house called Cobb Hall, evidently the former residence of Lady

Tanfield's family. He built a grand Elizabethan mansion on the site of the old

Priory, and here was born Lucius Gary, Lord Falkland, who was slain in Newbury

fight. That Civil War brought stirring times to Burford. You have heard of the fame

of the Levellers, the discontented mutineers in Cromwell's army, the followers of

John Lilburne, who for a brief space threatened the existence of the Parliamentary

regime. Cromwell dealt with them with an iron hand. He caught and surprised them

at Burford and imprisoned them in the church, wherein carved roughly on the font

with a dagger you can see this touching memorial of one of these poor men:--

ANTHONY SEDLEY PRISNER 1649.

Inscription on Font, Parish Church, Burford, Oxon

Three of the leaders were shot in the churchyard on the following morning in view

of the other prisoners, who were placed on the leaden roof of the church, and you

can still see the bullet-holes in the old wall against which the unhappy men were

placed. The following entries in the books of the church tell the sad story tersely:--

Burials.--"1649 Three soldiers shot to death in Burford Churchyard

May 17th."

"Pd. to Daniel Muncke for cleansinge the Church when the Levellers

were taken 3s. 4d."

Detail of Fifteenth-century Barge-board, Burford, Oxon.

A walk through the streets of the old town is refreshing to an antiquary's eyes. The

old stone buildings grey with age with tile roofs, the old Tolsey much restored, the

merchants' guild mark over many of the ancient doorways, the noble church with

its eight chapels and fine tombs, the plate of the old corporation, now in the custody

of its oldest surviving member (Burford has ceased to be an incorporated borough),

are all full of interest. Vandalism is not, however, quite lacking, even in Burford.

One of the few Gothic chimneys remaining, a gem with a crocketed and pinnacled

canopy, was taken down some thirty years ago, while the Priory is said to be in

danger of being pulled down, though a later report speaks only of its restoration. In

the coaching age the town was alive with traffic, and Burford races, established by

the Merry Monarch, brought it much gaiety. At the George Inn, now degraded from

its old estate and cut up into tenements, Charles I stayed. It was an inn for more

than a century before his time, and was only converted from that purpose during the

early years of the nineteenth century, when the proprietor of the Bull Inn bought it

up and closed its doors to the public with a view to improving the prosperity of his

own house. The restoration of the picturesque almshouses founded by Henry Bird

in the time of the King-maker, a difficult piece of work, was well carried out in the

decadent days of the "twenties," and happily they do not seem to have suffered

much in the process.

The George Inn, Burford, Oxon

During our wanderings in the streets and lanes of rural England we must not fail to

visit the county of Essex. It is one of the least picturesque of our counties, but it

possesses much wealth of interesting antiquities in the timber houses at Colchester,

Saffron Walden, the old town of Maldon, the inns at Chigwell and Brentwood, and

the halls of Layer Marney and Horsham at Thaxted. Saffron Walden is one of those

quaint agricultural towns whose local trade is a thing of the past. From the records

which are left of it in the shape of prints and drawings, the town in the early part of

the nineteenth century must have been a medieval wonder. It is useless now to rail

against the crass ignorance and vandalism which has swept away so many

irreplaceable specimens of bygone architecture only to fill their sites with brick

boxes, "likely indeed and all alike."

Itineraries of the Georgian period when mentioning Saffron Walden describe the

houses as being of "mean appearance,"16 which remark, taking into consideration

the debased taste of the times, is significant. A perfect holocaust followed, which

extending through that shocking time known as the Churchwarden Period has not

yet spent itself in the present day. Municipal improvements threaten to go further

still, and in these commercial days, when combined capital under such appellations

as the "Metropolitan Co-operative" or the "Universal Supply Stores" endeavours to

increase its display behind plate-glass windows of immodest size, the life of old

buildings seems painfully insecure.

A good number of fine early barge-boards still remain in Saffron Walden, and the

timber houses which have been allowed to remain speak only too eloquently of the

beauties which have vanished. One of these structures--a large timber building or

collection of buildings, for the dates of erection are various--stands in Church

Street, and was formerly the Sun Inn, a hostel of much importance in bygone times.

This house of entertainment is said to have been in 1645 the quarters of the

Parliamentary Generals Cromwell, Ireton, and Skippon. In 1870, during the

conversion of the Sun Inn into private residences, some glazed tiles were

discovered bricked up in what had once been an open hearth. These tiles were

collectively painted with a picture on each side of the hearth, and bore the

inscription "W.E. 1730," while on one of them a bust of the Lord Protector was

depicted, thus showing the tradition to have been honoured during the second

George's time.17 Saffron Walden was the rendezvous of the Parliamentarian forces

after the sacking of Leicester, having their encampment on Triplow Heath. A

remarkable incident may be mentioned in connexion with this fact. In 1826 a rustic,

while ploughing some land to the south of the town, turned up with his share the

brass seal of Leicester Hospital, which seal had doubtless formed part of the loot

acquired by the rebel army.

The Sun Inn, or "House of the Giants," as it has sometimes been called, from the

colossal figures which appear in the pargeting over its gateway, is a building which

evidently grew with the needs of the town, and a study of its architectural features

is curiously instructive.

The following extract from Pepys's Diary is interesting as referring to Saffron

Walden:--

"1659, Feby. 27th. Up by four o'clock. Mr. Blayton and I took horse

and straight to Saffron Walden, where at the White Hart we set up our

horses and took the master to show us Audley End House, where the

housekeeper showed us all the house, in which the stateliness of the

ceilings, chimney-pieces, and form of the whole was exceedingly

worth seeing. He took us into the cellar, where we drank most

admirable drink, a health to the King. Here I played on my flageolette,

there being an excellent echo. He showed us excellent pictures; two

especially, those of the four Evangelists and Henry VIII. In our going

my landlord carried us through a very old hospital or almshouse, where

forty poor people were maintained; a very old foundation, and over the

chimney-piece was an inscription in brass: 'Orato pro animâ Thomae

Bird,' &c. They brought me a draft of their drink in a brown bowl, tipt

with silver, which I drank off, and at the bottom was a picture of the

Virgin with the child in her arms done in silver. So we took leave...."

The inscription and the "brown bowl" (which is a mazer cup) still remain, but the

picturesque front of the hospital, built in the reign of Edward VI, disappeared

during the awful "improvements" which took place during the "fifties." A drawing

of it survives in the local museum.

Maldon, the capital of the Blackwater district, is to the eye of an artist a town for

twilight effects. The picturesque skyline of its long, straggling street is accentuated

in the early morning or afterglow, when much undesirable detail of modern times

below the tiled roofs is blurred and lost. In broad daylight the quaintness of its

suburbs towards the river reeks of the salt flavour of W.W. Jacobs's stories.

Formerly the town was rich with such massive timber buildings as still appear in

the yard of the Blue Boar--an ancient hostelry which was evidently modernized

externally in Pickwickian times. While exploring in the outhouses of this hostel Mr.

Roe lighted on a venerable posting-coach of early nineteenth-century origin among

some other decaying vehicles, a curiosity even more rare nowadays than the Gothic

king-posts to be seen in the picturesque half-timbered billiard-room.

Maldon, Essex. Sky-line of the High Street at twilight

The country around Maldon is dotted plentifully with evidences of past ages; Layer

Marney, with its famous towers; D'Arcy Hall, noted for containing some of the

finest linen panelling in England; Beeleigh Abbey, and other old-world buildings.

The sea-serpent may still be seen at Heybridge, on the Norman church-door, one of

the best of its kind, and exhibiting almost all its original ironwork, including the

chimerical decorative clamp.

St. Mary's Church, Maldon

Norman Clamp on door of Heybridge Church, Essex

The ancient house exhibited at the Franco-British Exhibition at Shepherd's Bush

was a typical example of an Elizabethan dwelling. It was brought from Ipswich,

where it was doomed to make room for the extension of Co-operative Stores, but so

firmly was it built that, in spite of its age of three hundred and fifty years, it defied

for some time the attacks of the house-breakers. It was built in 1563, as the date

carved on the solid lintel shows, but some parts of the structure may have been

earlier. All the oak joists and rafters had been securely mortised into each other and

fixed with stout wooden pins. So securely were these pins fixed, that after many

vain attempts to knock them out, they had all to be bored out with augers. The

mortises and tenons were found to be as sound and clean as on the day when they

were fitted by the sixteenth-century carpenters. The foundations and the chimneys

were built of brick. The house contained a large entrance-hall, a kitchen, a

splendidly carved staircase, a living-room, and two good bedrooms, on the upper

floor. The whole house was a fine specimen of East Anglian half-timber work. The

timbers that formed the framework were all straight, the diamond and curved

patterns, familiar in western counties, signs of later construction, being altogether

absent. One of the striking features of this, as of many other timber-framed houses,

is the carved corner or angle post. It curves outwards as a support to the projecting

first floor to the extent of nearly two feet, and the whole piece was hewn out of one

massive oak log, the root, as was usual, having been placed upwards, and

beautifully carved with Gothic floriations. The full overhang of the gables is four

feet six inches. In later examples this distance between the gables and the wall was

considerably reduced, until at last the barge-boards were flush with the wall. The

joists of the first floor project from under a finely carved string-course, and the end

of each joist has a carved finial. All the inside walls were panelled with oak, and

the fire-place is of the typical old English character, with seats for half a dozen

people in the ingle-nook. The principal room had a fine Tudor door, and the frieze

and some of the panels were enriched with an inlay of holly. When the house was

demolished many of the choicest fittings which were missing from their places

were found carefully stowed under the floor boards. Possibly a raid or a riot had

alarmed the owners in some distant period, and they hid their nicest things and then

were slain, and no one knew of the secret hiding-place.

Tudor Fire-place. Now walled up in the passage of a shop in Banbury

The Rector of Haughton calls attention to a curious old house which certainly ought

to be preserved if it has not yet quite vanished.

"It is completely hidden from the public gaze. Right away in the fields,

to be reached only by footpath, or by strangely circuitous lane, in the

parish of Ranton, there stands a little old half-timbered house, known

as the Vicarage Farm. Only a very practised eye would suspect the

treasures that it contains. Entering through the original door, with

quaint knocker intact, you are in the kitchen with a fine open fire-

place, noble beam, and walls panelled with oak. But the principal

treasure consists in what I have heard called 'The priest's room.' I

should venture to put the date of the house at about 1500--certainly

pre-Reformation. How did it come to be there? and what purpose did it

serve? I have only been able to find one note which can throw any

possible light on the matter. Gough says that a certain Rose (Dunston?)

brought land at Ranton to her husband John Doiley; and he goes on:

'This man had the consent of William, the Prior of Ranton, to erect a

chapel at Ranton.' The little church at Ranton has stood there from the

thirteenth century, as the architecture of the west end and south-west

doorway plainly testify. The church and cell (or whatever you may call

it) must clearly have been an off-shoot from the Priory. But the room:

for this is what is principally worth seeing. The beam is richly

moulded, and so is the panelling throughout. It has a very well carved

course of panelling all round the top, and this is surmounted by an

elaborate cornice. The stone mantelpiece is remarkably fine and of

unusual character. But the most striking feature of the room is a square

-headed arched recess, or niche, with pierced spandrels. What was its

use? It is about the right height for a seat, and what may have been the

seat is there unaltered. Or was it a niche containing a Calvary, or some

figure? I confess I know nothing. Is this a unique example? I cannot

remember any other. But possibly there may be others, equally hidden

away, comparison with which might unfold its secret. In this room, and

in other parts of the house, much of the old ironwork of hinges and

door-fasteners remains, and is simply excellent. The old oak sliding

shutters are still there, and two more fine stone mantelpieces; on one

hearth the original encaustic tiles with patterns, chiefly a Maltese cross,

and the oak cill surrounding them, are in situ. I confess I tremble for

the safety of this priceless relic. The house is in a somewhat

dilapidated condition; and I know that one attempt was made to buy

the panelling and take it away. Surely such a monument of the past

should be in some way guarded by the nation."

The beauty of English cottage-building, its directness, simplicity, variety, and

above all its inevitable quality, the intimate way in which the buildings ally

themselves with the soil and blend with the ever-varied and exquisite landscape, the

delicate harmonies, almost musical in their nature, that grow from their gentle

relationship with their surroundings, the modulation from man's handiwork to

God's enveloping world that lies in the quiet gardening that binds one to the other

without discord or dissonance--all these things are wonderfully attractive to those

who have eyes to see and hearts to understand. The English cottages have an

importance in the story of the development of architecture far greater than that

which concerns their mere beauty and picturesqueness. As we follow the history of

Gothic art we find that for the most part the instinctive art in relation to church

architecture came to an end in the first quarter of the sixteenth century, but the right

impulse did not cease. House-building went on, though there was no church-

building, and we admire greatly some of those grand mansions which were reared

in the time of Elizabeth and the early Stuarts; but art was declining, a crumbling

taste causing disintegration of the sense of real beauty and refinement of detail. A

creeping paralysis set in later, and the end came swiftly when the dark days of the

eighteenth century blotted out even the memory of a great past. And yet during all

this time the people, the poor and middle classes, the yeomen and farmers, were

ever building, building, quietly and simply, untroubled by any thoughts of style, of

Gothic art or Renaissance; hence the cottages and dwellings of the humblest type

maintained in all their integrity the real principles that made medieval architecture

great. Frank, simple, and direct, built for use and not for the establishment of

architectural theories, they have transmitted their messages to the ages and have

preserved their beauties for the admiration of mankind and as models for all time.

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