OLD MANSIONS

<< VANISHING OR VANISHED CHURCHES

THE DESTRUCTION OF PREHISTORIC REMAINS >>

was building the tower and fell and was killed. Both tower and effigy are of the

same period--Early English--and it is quite possible that the figure may be that of

the founder of the tower, but its head-dress seems to show that it represents a lady.

Whipping-posts and stocks are too light a punishment for such vandalism.

The story of our vanished and vanishing churches, and of their vanished and

vanishing contents, is indeed a sorry one. Many efforts are made in these days to

educate the public taste, to instil into the minds of their custodians a due

appreciation of their beauties and of the principles of English art and architecture,

and to save and protect the treasures that remain. That these may be crowned with

success is the earnest hope and endeavour of every right-minded Englishman.

Reversed Rose carved on "Miserere" in Norwich Cathedral

CHAPTER VII

OLD MANSIONS

One of the most deplorable features of vanishing England is the gradual

disappearance of its grand old manor-houses and mansions. A vast number still

remain, we are thankful to say. We have still left to us Haddon and Wilton,

Broughton, Penshurst, Hardwick, Welbeck, Bramshill, Longleat, and a host of

others; but every year sees a diminution in their number. The great enemy they

have to contend with is fire, and modern conveniences and luxuries, electric

lighting and the heating apparatus, have added considerably to their danger. The old

floors and beams are unaccustomed to these insidious wires that have a habit of

fusing, hence we often read in the newspapers: "DISASTROUS FIRE--HISTORIC

MANSION ENTIRELY DESTROYED." Too often not only is the house

destroyed, but most of its valuable contents is devoured by the flames. Priceless

pictures by Lely and Vandyke, miniatures of Cosway, old furniture of Chippendale

and Sheraton, and the countless treasures which generations of cultured folk with

ample wealth have accumulated, deeds, documents and old papers that throw

valuable light on the manners and customs of our forefathers and on the history of

the country, all disappear and can never be replaced. A great writer has likened an

old house to a human heart with a life of its own, full of sad and sweet

reminiscences. It is deplorably sad when the old mansion disappears in a night, and

to find in the morning nothing but blackened walls--a grim ruin.

Our forefathers were a hardy race, and did not require hot-water pipes and furnaces

to keep them warm. Moreover, they built their houses so surely and so well that

they scarcely needed these modern appliances. They constructed them with a great

square courtyard, so that the rooms on the inside of the quadrangle were protected

from the winds. They sang truly in those days, as in these:--

Sing heigh ho for the wind and the rain,

For the rain it raineth every day.

Oak Panelling. Wainscot of Fifteenth Century, with addition circa late Seventeenth

Century, fitted on to it in angle of room in the Church House, Goudhurst, Kent

So they sheltered themselves from the wind and rain by having a courtyard or by

making an E or H shaped plan for their dwelling-place. Moreover, they made their

walls very thick in order that the winds should not blow or the rain beat through

them. Their rooms, too, were panelled or hung with tapestry--famous things for

making a room warm and cosy. We have plaster walls covered with an elegant wall

-paper which has always a cold surface, hence the air in the room, heated by the

fire, is chilled when it comes into contact with the cold wall and creates draughts.

But oak panelling or woollen tapestry soon becomes warm, and gives back its heat

to the room, making it delightfully comfortable and cosy.

One foolish thing our forefathers did, and that was to allow the great beams that

help to support the upper floor to go through the chimney. How many houses have

been burnt down owing to that fatal beam! But our ancestors were content with a

dog-grate and wood fires; they could not foresee the advent of the modern range

and the great coal fires, or perhaps they would have been more careful about that

beam.

Section of Mouldings of Cornice on Panelling, the Church House, Goudhurst

Fire is, perhaps, the chief cause of the vanishing of old houses, but it is not the only

cause. The craze for new fashions at the beginning of the last century doomed to

death many a noble mansion. There seems to have been a positive mania for pulling

down houses at that period. As I go over in my mind the existing great houses in

this country, I find that by far the greater number of the old houses were wantonly

destroyed about the years 1800-20, and new ones in the Italian or some other

incongruous style erected in their place. Sometimes, as at Little Wittenham, you

find the lone lorn terraces of the gardens of the house, but all else has disappeared.

As Mr. Allan Fea says: "When an old landmark disappears, who does not feel a

pang of regret at parting with something which linked us with the past? Seldom an

old house is threatened with demolition but there is some protest, more perhaps

from the old associations than from any particular architectural merit the building

may have." We have many pangs of regret when we see such wanton destruction.

The old house at Weston, where the Throckmortons resided when the poet Cowper

lived at the lodge, and when leaving wrote on a window-shutter--

Farewell, dear scenes, for ever closed to me;

Oh! for what sorrows must I now exchange ye!

may be instanced as an example of a demolished mansion. Nothing is now left of it

but the entrance-gates and a part of the stables. It was pulled down in 1827. It is

described as a fine mansion, possessing secret chambers which were occupied by

Roman Catholic priests when it was penal to say Mass. One of these chambers was

found to contain, when the house was pulled down, a rough bed, candlestick,

remains of food, and a breviary. A Roman Catholic school and presbytery now

occupy its site. It is a melancholy sight to see the "Wilderness" behind the house,

still adorned with busts and urns, and the graves of favourite dogs, which still bear

the epitaphs written by Cowper on Sir John Throckmorton's pointer and Lady

Throckmorton's pet spaniel. "Capability Brown" laid his rude, rough hand upon the

grounds, but you can still see the "prosed alcove" mentioned by Cowper, a wooden

summer-house, much injured

By rural carvers, who with knives deface

The panels, leaving an obscure rude name.

Sometimes, alas! the old house has to vanish entirely through old age. It cannot

maintain its struggle any longer. The rain pours through the roof and down the

insides of the walls. And the family is as decayed as their mansion, and has no

money wherewith to defray the cost of reparation.

The Wardrobe House. The Close. Salisbury. Evening.

Our artist, Mr. Fred Roe, in his search for the picturesque, had one sad and

deplorable experience, which he shall describe in his own words:--

"One of the most weird and, I may add, chilling experiences in

connection with the decline of county families which it was my lot to

experience, occurred a year or two ago in a remote corner of the

eastern counties. I had received, through a friend, an invitation to visit

an old mansion before the inmates (descendants of the owners in

Elizabethan times) left and the contents were dispersed. On a

comfortless January morning, while rain and sleet descended in

torrents to the accompaniment of a biting wind, I detrained at a small

out-of-the-way station in ----folk. A weather-beaten old man in a

patched great-coat, with the oldest and shaggiest of ponies and the

smallest of governess-traps, awaited my arrival. I, having wedged

myself with the Jehu into this miniature vehicle, was driven through

some miles of muddy ruts, until turning through a belt of wooded land

the broken outlines of an extensive dilapidated building broke into

view. This was ---- Hall.

"I never in my life saw anything so weirdly picturesque and suggestive

of the phrase 'In Chancery' as this semi-ruinous mansion. Of many

dates and styles of architecture, from Henry VIII to George III, the

whole seemed to breathe an atmosphere of neglect and decay. The

waves of affluence and successive rise of various members of the

family could be distinctly traced in the enlargements and excrescences

which contributed to the casual plan and irregular contour of the

building. At one part an addition seemed to denote that the owner had

acquired wealth about the time of the first James, and promptly

directed it to the enlargement of his residence. In another a huge hall

with classic brick frontage, dating from the commencement of the

eighteenth century, spoke of an increase of affluence--probably due to

agricultural prosperity--followed by the dignity of a peerage. The

latest alterations appear to have been made during the Strawberry Hill

epoch, when most of the mullioned windows had been transformed to

suit the prevailing taste. Some of the building--a little of it--seemed

habitable, but in the greater part the gables were tottering, the stucco

frontage peeling and falling, and the windows broken and shuttered. In

front of this wreck of a building stretched the overgrown remains of

what once had been a terrace, bounded by large stone globes, now

moss-grown and half hidden under long grass. It was the very picture

of desolation and proud poverty.

"We drove up to what had once been the entrance to the servants' hall,

for the principal doorway had long been disused, and descending from

the trap I was conducted to a small panelled apartment, where some

freshly cut logs did their best to give out a certain amount of heat. Of

the hospitality meted out to me that day I can only hint with mournful

appreciation. I was made welcome with all the resources which the

family had available. But the place was a veritable vault, and cold and

damp as such. I think that this state of things had been endured so long

and with such haughty silence by the inmates that it had passed into a

sort of normal condition with them, and remained unnoticed except by

new-comers. A few old domestics stuck by the family in its fallen

fortunes, and of these one who had entered into their service some

quarter of a century previous waited upon us at lunch with dignified

ceremony. After lunch a tour of the house commenced. Into this I shall

not enter into in detail; many of the rooms were so bare that little could

be said of them, but the Great Hall, an apartment modelled somewhat

on the lines of the more palatial Rainham, needs the pen of the author

of Lammermoor to describe. It was a very large and lofty room in the

pseudo-classic style, with a fine cornice, and hung round with family

portraits so bleached with damp and neglect that they presented but

dim and ghostly presentments of their originals. I do not think a fire

could have been lit in this ghostly gallery for many years, and some of

the portraits literally sagged in their frames with accumulations of

rubbish which had dropped behind the canvases. Many of the pictures

were of no value except for their associations, but I saw at least one

Lely, a family group, the principal figure in which was a young lady

displaying too little modesty and too much bosom. Another may have

been a Vandyk, while one or two were early works representing

gallants of Elizabeth's time in ruffs and feathered caps. The rest were

for the most part but wooden ancestors displaying curled wigs, legs

which lacked drawing, and high-heeled shoes. A few old cabinets

remained, and a glorious suite of chairs of Queen Anne's time--these,

however, were perishing, like the rest--from want of proper care and

firing.

"The kitchens, a vast range of stone-flagged apartments, spoke of

mighty hospitality in bygone times, containing fire-places fit to roast

oxen at whole, huge spits and countless hooks, the last exhibiting but

one dependent--the skin of the rabbit shot for lunch. The atmosphere

was, if possible, a trifle more penetrating than that of the Great Hall,

and the walls were discoloured with damp.

"Upstairs, besides the bedrooms, was a little chapel with some remains

of Gothic carving, and a few interesting pictures of the fifteenth

century; a cunningly contrived priest-hole, and a long gallery lined

with dusty books, whither my lord used to repair on rainy days. Many

of the windows were darkened by creepers, and over one was a flap of

half-detached plaster work which hung like a shroud. But, oh, the

stained glass! The eighteenth-century renovators had at least respected

these, and quarterings and coats of arms from the fifteenth century

downwards were to be seen by scores. What an opportunity for the

genealogist with a history in view, but that opportunity I fear has

passed for ever. The ---- Hall estate was evidently mortgaged up to

the hilt, and nothing intervened to prevent the dispersal of these

treasures, which occurred some few months after my visit. Large

though the building was, I learned that its size was once far greater,

some two-thirds of the old building having been pulled down when the

hall was constituted in its present form. Hard by on an adjoining estate

a millionaire manufacturer (who owned several motor-cars) had set up

an establishment, but I gathered that his tastes were the reverse of

antiquarian, and that no effort would be made to restore the old hall to

its former glories and preserve such treasures as yet remained intact--a

golden opportunity to many people of taste with leanings towards a

country life. But time fled, and the ragged retainer was once more at

the door, so I left ---- Hall in a blinding storm of rain, and took my

last look at its gaunt façade, carrying with me the seeds of a cold which

prevented me from visiting the Eastern Counties for some time to

come."

Some historic houses of rare beauty have only just escaped destruction. Such an

one is the ancestral house of the Comptons, Compton Wynyates, a vision of colour

and architectural beauty--

A Tudor-chimneyed bulk

Of mellow brickwork on an isle of bowers.

Owing to his extravagance and the enormous expenses of a contested election in

1768, Spencer, the eighth Earl of Northampton, was reduced to cutting down the

timber on the estate, selling his furniture at Castle Ashby and Compton, and

spending the rest of his life in Switzerland. He actually ordered Compton Wynyates

to be pulled down, as he could not afford to repair it; happily the faithful steward of

the estate, John Berrill, did not obey the order. He did his best to keep out the

weather and to preserve the house, asserting that he was sure the family would

return there some day. Most of the windows were bricked up in order to save the

window-tax, and the glorious old building within whose walls kings and queens

had been entertained remained bare and desolate for many years, excepting a small

portion used as a farm-house. All honour to the old man's memory, the faithful

servant, who thus saved his master's noble house from destruction, the pride of the

Midlands. Its latest historian, Miss Alice Dryden,34 thus describes its appearance:--

"On approaching the building by the high road, the entrance front now

bursts into view across a wide stretch of lawn, where formerly it was

shielded by buildings forming an outer court. It is indeed a most

glorious pile of exquisite colouring, built of small red bricks widely

separated by mortar, with occasional chequers of blue bricks; the

mouldings and facings of yellow local stone, the woodwork of the two

gables carved and black with age, the stone slates covered with lichens

and mellowed by the hand of time; the whole building has an

indescribable charm. The architecture, too, is all irregular; towers here

and there, gables of different heights, any straight line embattled, few

windows placed exactly over others, and the whole fitly surmounted by

the elaborate brick chimneys of different designs, some fluted, others

zigzagged, others spiral, or combined spiral and fluted."

An illustration is given of one of these chimneys which form such an attractive

feature of the house.

Chimney at Compton Wynates.

It is unnecessary to record the history of Compton Wynyates. The present owner,

the Marquis of Northampton, has written an admirable monograph on the annals of

the house of his ancestors. Its builder was Sir William Compton,35 who by his

valour in arms and his courtly ways gained the favour of Henry VIII, and was

promoted to high honour at the Court. Dugdale states that in 1520 he obtained

licence to impark two thousand acres at Overcompton and Nethercompton, alias

Compton Vyneyats, where he built a "fair mannour house," and where he was

visited by the King, "for over the gateway are the arms of France and England,

under a crown, supported by the greyhound and griffin, and sided by the rose and

the crown, probably in memory of Henry VIII's visit here."36 The Comptons ever

basked in the smiles of royalty. Henry Compton, created baron, was the favourite of

Queen Elizabeth, and his son William succeeded in marrying the daughter of Sir

John Spencer, richest of City merchants. All the world knows of his ingenious craft

in carrying off the lady in a baker's basket, of his wife's disinheritance by the irate

father, and of the subsequent reconciliation through the intervention of Queen

Elizabeth at the baptism of the son of this marriage. The Comptons fought bravely

for the King in the Civil War. Their house was captured by the enemy, and

besieged by James Compton, Earl of Northampton, and the story of the fighting

about the house abounds in interest, but cannot be related here. The building was

much battered by the siege and by Cromwell's soldiers, who plundered the house,

killed the deer in the park, defaced the monuments in the church, and wrought

much mischief. Since the eighteenth-century disaster to the family it has been

restored, and remains to this day one of the most charming homes in England.

Window-catch, Brockhall, Northants

"The greatest advantages men have by riches are to give, to build, to plant, and

make pleasant scenes." So wrote Sir William Temple, diplomatist, philosopher, and

true garden-lover. And many of the gentlemen of England seem to have been of the

same mind, if we may judge from the number of delightful old country-houses set

amid pleasant scenes that time and war and fire have spared to us. Macaulay draws

a very unflattering picture of the old country squire, as of the parson. His untruths

concerning the latter I have endeavoured to expose in another place.37 The manor-

houses themselves declare the historian's strictures to be unfounded. Is it possible

that men so ignorant and crude could have built for themselves residences bearing

evidence of such good taste, so full of grace and charm, and surrounded by such

rare blendings of art and nature as are displayed so often in park and garden? And it

is not, as a rule, in the greatest mansions, the vast piles erected by the great nobles

of the Court, that we find such artistic qualities, but most often in the smaller manor

-houses of knights and squires. Certainly many higher-cultured people of

Macaulay's time and our own could learn a great deal from them of the art of

making beautiful homes.

Gothic Chimney, Norton St. Philip, Somerset

Holinshed, the Chronicler, writing during the third quarter of the sixteenth century,

makes some illuminating observations on the increasing preference shown in his

time for stone and brick buildings in place of timber and plaster. He wrote:--

"The ancient maners and houses of our gentlemen are yet for the most

part of strong timber. How beit such as be lately buylded are

commonly either of bricke or harde stone, their rowmes large and

stately, and houses of office farder distant fro their lodgings. Those of

the nobilitie are likewise wrought with bricke and harde stone, as

provision may best be made; but so magnificent and stately, as the

basest house of a barren doth often match with some honours of

princes in olde tyme: so that if ever curious buylding did flourishe in

Englande it is in these our dayes, wherein our worckemen excel and

are in maner comparable in skill with old Vitruvius and Serle."

He also adds the curious information that "there are olde men yet dwelling in the

village where I remayn, which have noted three things to be marveylously altered

in Englande within their sound remembrance. One is, the multitude of chimnies

lately erected, whereas, in their young dayes there were not above two or three, if

so many, in most uplandish townes of the realme (the religious houses and mannour

places of their lordes alwayes excepted, and peradventure some great personages

[parsonages]), but each one made his fire against a reredosse in the halle, where he

dined and dressed his meate," This want of chimneys is noticeable in many pictures

of, and previous to, the time of Henry VIII. A timber farm-house yet remains (or

did until recently) near Folkestone, which shows no vestige of either chimney or

hearth.

Most of our great houses and manor-houses sprang up in the great Elizabethan

building epoch, when the untold wealth of the monasteries which fell into the hands

of the courtiers and favourites of the King, the plunder of gold-laden Spanish

galleons, and the unprecedented prosperity in trade gave such an impulse to the

erection of fine houses that the England of that period has been described as "one

great stonemason's yard." The great noblemen and gentlemen of the Court were

filled with the desire for extravagant display, and built such clumsy piles as

Wollaton and Burghley House, importing French and German artisans to load them

with bastard Italian Renaissance detail. Some of these vast structures are not very

admirable with their distorted gables, their chaotic proportions, and their crazy

imitations of classic orders. But the typical Elizabethan mansion, whose builder's

means or good taste would not permit of such a profusion of these architectural

luxuries, is unequalled in its combination of stateliness with homeliness, in its

expression of the manner of life of the class for which it was built. And in the

humbler manors and farm-houses the latter idea is even more perfectly expressed,

for houses were affected by the new fashions in architecture generally in proportion

to their size.

The Moat, Crowhurst Place, Surrey

Holinshed tells of the increased use of stone or brick in his age in the district

wherein he lived. In other parts of England, where the forests supplied good timber,

the builders stuck to their half-timbered houses and brought the "black and white"

style to perfection. Plaster was extensively used in this and subsequent ages, and

often the whole surface of the house was covered with rough-cast, such as the

quaint old house called Broughton Hall, near Market Drayton. Avebury Manor,

Wiltshire, is an attractive example of the plastered house. The irregular roof-line,

the gables, and the white-barred windows, and the contrast of the white walls with

the rich green of the vines and surrounding trees combine to make a picture of rare

beauty. Part of the house is built of stone and part half-timber, but a coat of thin

plaster covers the stonework and makes it conform with the rest. To plaster over

stone-work is a somewhat daring act, and is not architecturally correct, but the

appearance of the house is altogether pleasing.

The Elizabethan and Jacobean builder increased the height of his house, sometimes

causing it to have three storeys, besides rooms in attics beneath the gabled roof. He

also loved windows. "Light, more light," was his continued cry. Hence there is

often an excess of windows, and Lord Bacon complained that there was no

comfortable place to be found in these houses, "in summer by reason of the heat, or

in winter by reason of the cold." It was a sore burden to many a house-owner when

Charles II imposed the iniquitous window-tax, and so heavily did this fall upon the

owners of some Elizabethan houses that the poorer ones were driven to the

necessity of walling up some of the windows which their ancestors had provided

with such prodigality. You will often see to this day bricked-up windows in many

an old farm-house. Not every one was so cunning as the parish clerk of Bradford-

on-Avon, Orpin, who took out the window-frames from his interesting little house

near the church and inserted numerous small single-paned windows which escaped

the tax.

Surrey and Kent afford an unlimited field for the study of the better sort of houses,

mansions, and manor-houses. We have already alluded to Hever Castle and its

memories of Anne Boleyn. Then there is the historic Penshurst, the home of the

Sidneys, haunted by the shades of Sir Philip, "Sacharissa," the ill-fated Algernon,

and his handsome brother. You see their portraits on the walls, the fine gallery, and

the hall, which reveals the exact condition of an ancient noble's hall in former days.

Arms of the Gaynesfords in window, Crowhurst Place, Surrey

Not far away are the manors of Crittenden, Puttenden, and Crowhurst. This last is

one of the most picturesque in Surrey, with its moat, across which there is a fine

view of the house, its half-timber work, the straight uprights placed close together

signifying early work, and the striking character of the interior. The Gaynesford

family became lords of the manor of Crowhurst in 1337, and continued to hold it

until 1700, a very long record. In 1903 the Place was purchased by the Rev. ----

Gaynesford, of Hitchin, a descendant of the family of the former owners. This is a

rare instance of the repossession of a medieval residence by an ancient family after

the lapse of two hundred years. It was built in the fifteenth century, and is a

complete specimen of its age and style, having been unspoilt by later alterations

and additions. The part nearer the moat is, however, a little later than the gables

further back. The dining-room is the contracted remains of the great hall of

Crowhurst Place, the upper part of which was converted into a series of bedrooms

in the eighteenth century. We give an illustration of a very fine hinge to a cupboard

door in one of the bedrooms, a good example of the blacksmith's skill. It is

noticeable that the points of the linen-fold in the panelling of the door are undercut

and project sharply. We see the open framed floor with moulded beams. Later on

the fashion changed, and the builders preferred to have square-shaped beams. We

notice the fine old panelling, the elaborate mouldings, and the fixed bench running

along one end of the chamber, of which we give an illustration. The design and

workmanship of this fixture show it to belong to the period of Henry VIII. All the

work is of stout timber, save the fire-place. The smith's art is shown in the fine

candelabrum and in the knocker or ring-plate, perforated with Gothic design, still

backed with its original morocco leather. It is worthy of a sanctuary, and doubtless

many generations of Crowhurst squires have found a very dear sanctuary in this

grand old English home. This ring-plate is in one of the original bedrooms.

Immense labour was often bestowed upon the mouldings of beams in these

fifteenth-century houses. There was a very fine moulded beam in a farm-house in

my own parish, but a recent restoration has, alas! covered it. We give some

illustrations of the cornice mouldings of the Church House, Goudhurst, Kent, and

of a fine Gothic door-head.

Cupboard Hinge, Crowhurst Place, Surrey

It is impossible for us to traverse many shires in our search for old houses. But a

word must be said for the priceless contents of many of our historic mansions and

manors. These often vanish and are lost for ever. I have alluded to the thirst of

American millionaires for these valuables, which causes so many of our treasures

to cross the Atlantic and find their home in the palaces of Boston and Washington

and elsewhere. Perhaps if our valuables must leave their old resting-places and go

out of the country, we should prefer them to go to America than to any other land.

Our American cousins are our kindred; they know how to appreciate the treasures

of the land that, in spite of many changes, is to them their mother-country. No

nation in the world prizes a high lineage and a family tree more than the

Americans, and it is my privilege to receive many inquiries from across the Atlantic

for missing links in the family pedigree, and the joy that a successful search yields

compensates for all one's trouble. So if our treasures must go we should rather send

them to America than to Germany. It is, however, distressing to see pictures taken

from the place where they have hung for centuries and sent to Christie's, to see the

dispersal of old libraries at Sotherby's, and the contents of a house, amassed by

generations of cultured and wealthy folk, scattered to the four winds and bought up

by the nouveaux riches.

Fixed Bench in the Hall, Crowhurst Place, Surrey

There still remain in many old houses collections of armour that bears the dints of

many fights. Swords, helmets, shields, lances, and other weapons of warfare often

are seen hanging on the walls of an ancestral hall. The buff coats of Cromwell's

soldiers, tilting-helmets, guns and pistols of many periods are all there, together

with man-traps--the cruel invention of a barbarous age.

Gothic Door-head, Goudhurst, Kent

The historic hall of Littlecote bears on its walls many suits worn during the Civil

War by the Parliamentary troopers, and in countless other halls you can see

specimens of armour. In churches also much armour has been stored. It was the

custom to suspend over the tomb the principal arms of the departed warrior, which

had previously been carried in the funeral procession. Shakespeare alludes to this

custom when, in Hamlet, he makes Laertes say:--

His means of death, his obscure burial--

No trophy, sword, nor hatchment o'er his bones,

No noble rite, nor formal ostentation.

You can see the armour of the Black Prince over his tomb at Canterbury, and at

Westminster the shield of Henry V that probably did its duty at Agincourt. Several

of our churches still retain the arms of the heroes who lie buried beneath them, but

occasionally it is not the actual armour but sham, counterfeit helmets and

breastplates made for the funeral procession and hung over the monument. Much of

this armour has been removed from churches and stored in museums. Norwich

Museum has some good specimens, of which we give some illustrations. There is a

knight's basinet which belongs to the time of Henry V (circa 1415). We can

compare this with the salads, which came into use shortly after this period, an

example of which may be seen at the Porte d'Hal, Brussels. We also show a

thirteenth-century sword, which was dredged up at Thorpe, and believed to have

been lost in 1277, when King Edward I made a military progress through Suffolk

and Norfolk, and kept his Easter at Norwich. The blade is scimitar-shaped, is one-

edged, and has a groove at the back. We may compare this with the sword of the

time of Edward IV now in the possession of Mr. Seymour Lucas. The development

of riding-boots is an interesting study. We show a drawing of one in the possession

of Mr. Ernest Crofts, R.A., which was in use in the time of William III.

Knightly Basinet (temp. Henry V) in Norwich Castle

Hilt of Thirteenth-century Sword in Norwich Museum

An illustration is given of a chapel-de-fer which reposes in the noble hall of

Ockwells, Berkshire, much dented by use. It has evidently seen service. In the same

hall is collected by the friends of the author, Sir Edward and Lady Barry, a vast

store of armour and most interesting examples of ancient furniture worthy of the

beautiful building in which they are placed. Ockwells Manor House is goodly to

look upon, a perfect example of fifteenth-century residence with its noble hall and

minstrels' gallery, its solar, kitchens, corridors, and gardens. Moreover, it is now

owned by those who love and respect antiquity and its architectural beauties, and is

in every respect an old English mansion well preserved and tenderly cared for. Yet

at one time it was almost doomed to destruction. Not many years ago it was the

property of a man who knew nothing of its importance. He threatened to pull it

down or to turn the old house into a tannery. Our Berks Archæological Society

endeavoured to raise money for its purchase in order to preserve it. This action

helped the owner to realise that the house was of some commercial value. Its

destruction was stayed, and then, happily, it was purchased by the present owners,

who have done so much to restore its original beauties.

"Hand-and-a-half" Sword. Mr. Seymour Lucas, R.A.

Seventeenth-century Boot, in the possession of Ernest Crofts, Esq., R.A.

Ockwells was built by Sir John Norreys about the year 1466. The chapel was not

completed at his death in 1467, and he left money in his will "to the full bilding and

making uppe of the Chapell with the Chambres ajoyng with'n my manoir of Okholt

in the p'rish of Bray aforsaid not yet finisshed XL li." This chapel was burnt down

in 1778. One of the most important features of the hall is the heraldic glass,

commemorating eighteen worthies, which is of the same date as the house. The

credit of identifying these worthies is due to Mr. Everard Green, Rouge Dragon,

who in 1899 communicated the result of his researches to Viscount Dillon,

President of the Society of Antiquaries. There are eighteen shields of arms. Two are

royal and ensigned with royal crowns. Two are ensigned with mitres and fourteen

with mantled helms, and of these fourteen, thirteen support a crest. Each

achievement is placed in a separate light on an ornamental background composed

of quarries and alternate diagonal stripes of white glass bordered with gold, on

which the motto

is inscribed in black-letter. This motto is assigned by some to the family of Norreys

and by others as that of the Royal Wardrobe. The quarries in each light have the

same badge, namely, three golden distaffs, one in pale and two in saltire, banded

with a golden and tasselled ribbon, which badge some again assign to the family of

Norreys and others to the Royal Wardrobe. If, however, the Norreys arms are

correctly set forth in a compartment of a door-head remaining in the north wall, and

also in one of the windows--namely, argent a chevron between three ravens' heads

erased sable, with a beaver for a dexter supporter--the second conjecture is

doubtless correct.

Chapel de Fer at Ockwells, Berks

These shields represent the arms of Sir John Norreys, the builder of Ockwells

Manor House, and of his sovereign, patrons, and kinsfolk. It is a liber amicorum in

glass, a not unpleasant way for light to come to us, as Mr. Everard Green pleasantly

remarks. By means of heraldry Sir John Norreys recorded his friendships, thereby

adding to the pleasures of memory as well as to the splendour of his great hall. His

eye saw the shield, his memory supplied the story, and to him the lines of George

Eliot,

O memories,

O Past that IS,

were made possible by heraldry.

The names of his friends and patrons so recorded in glass by their arms are: Sir

Henry Beauchamp, sixth Earl of Warwick; Sir Edmund Beaufort, K.G.; Margaret

of Anjou, Queen of Henry VI, "the dauntless queen of tears, who headed councils,

led armies, and ruled both king and people"; Sir John de la Pole, K.G.; Henry VI;

Sir James Butler; the Abbey of Abingdon; Richard Beauchamp, Bishop of

Salisbury from 1450 to 1481; Sir John Norreys himself; Sir John Wenlock, of

Wenlock, Shropshire; Sir William Lacon, of Stow, Kent, buried at Bray; the arms

and crest of a member of the Mortimer family; Sir Richard Nanfan, of Birtsmorton

Court, Worcestershire; Sir John Norreys with his arms quartered with those of

Alice Merbury, of Yattendon, his first wife; Sir John Langford, who married Sir

John Norreys's granddaughter; a member of the De la Beche family (?); John

Purye, of Thatcham, Bray, and Cookham; Richard Bulstrode, of Upton,

Buckinghamshire, Keeper of the Great Wardrobe to Queen Margaret of Anjou, and

afterwards Comptroller of the Household to Edward IV. These are the worthies

whose arms are recorded in the windows of Ockwells. Nash gave a drawing of the

house in his Mansions of England in the Olden Time, showing the interior of the

hall, the porch and corridor, and the east front; and from the hospitable door is

issuing a crowd of gaily dressed people in Elizabethan costume, such as was

doubtless often witnessed in days of yore. It is a happy and fortunate event that this

noble house should in its old age have found such a loving master and mistress, in

whose family we hope it may remain for many long years.

Another grand old house has just been saved by the National Trust and the bounty

of an anonymous benefactor. This is Barrington Court, and is one of the finest

houses in Somerset. It is situated a few miles east of Ilminster, in the hundred of

South Petherton. Its exact age is uncertain, but it seems probable that it was built by

Henry, Lord Daubeney, created Earl of Bridgewater in 1539, whose ancestors had

owned the place since early Plantagenet times. At any rate, it appears to date from

about the middle of the sixteenth century, and it is a very perfect example of the

domestic architecture of that period. From the Daubeneys it passed successively to

the Duke of Suffolk, the Crown, the Cliftons, the Phelips's, the Strodes; and one of

this last family entertained the Duke of Monmouth there during his tour in the west

in 1680. The house, which is E-shaped, with central porch and wings at each end, is

built of the beautiful Ham Hill stone which abounds in the district; the colour of

this stone greatly enhances the appearance of the house and adds to its venerable

aspect. It has little ornamental detail, but what there is is very good, while the

loftiness and general proportions of the building--its extent and solidity of

masonry, and the taste and care with which every part has been designed and

carried out, give it an air of dignity and importance.

"The angle buttresses to the wings and the porch rising to twisted

terminals are a feature surviving from mediæval times, which

disappeared entirely in the buildings of Stuart times. These twisted

terminals with cupola-like tops are also upon the gables, and with the

chimneys, also twisted, give a most pleasing and attractive character to

the structure. We may go far, indeed, before we find another house of

stone so lightly and gracefully adorned, and the detail of the mullioned

windows with their arched heads, in every light, and their water-tables

above, is admirable. The porch also has a fine Tudor arch, which might

form the entrance to some college quadrangle, and there are rooms

above and gables on either hand. The whole structure breathes the

spirit of the Tudor age, before the classic spirit had exercised any

marked influence upon our national architecture, while the details of

the carving are almost as rich as is the moulded and sculptured work in

the brick houses of East Anglia. The features in other parts of the

exterior are all equally good, and we may certainly say of Barrington

Court that it occupies a most notable place in the domestic architecture

of England. It is also worthy of remark that such houses as this are far

rarer than those of Jacobean times."38

But Barrington Court has fallen on evil days; one half of the house only is now

habitable, the rest having been completely gutted about eighty years ago. The great

hall is used as a cider store, the wainscoting has been ruthlessly removed, and there

have even been recent suggestions of moving the whole structure across England

and re-erecting it in a strange county. It has several times changed hands in recent

years, and under these circumstances it is not surprising that but little has been done

to ensure the preservation of what is indeed an architectural gem. But the walls are

in excellent condition and the roofs fairly sound. The National Trust, like an angel

of mercy, has spread its protecting wings over the building; friends have been

found to succour the Court in its old age; and there is every reason to hope that its

evil days are past, and that it may remain standing for many generations.

Tudor Dresser Table, in the possession of Sir Alfred Dryden, Canon's Ashby,

Northants

The wealth of treasure to be found in many country houses is indeed enormous. In

Holinshed's Chronicle of Englande, Scotlande and Irelande, published in 1577,

there is a chapter on the "maner of buylding and furniture of our Houses," wherein

is recorded the costliness of the stores of plate and tapestry that were found in the

dwellings of nobility and gentry and also in farm-houses, and even in the homes of

"inferior artificers." Verily the spoils of the monasteries and churches must have

been fairly evenly divided. These are his words:--

"The furniture of our houses also exceedeth, and is growne in maner

even to passing delicacie; and herein I do not speake of the nobilitie

and gentrie onely, but even of the lowest sorte that have anything to

take to. Certes in noble men's houses it is not rare to see abundance of

array, riche hangings of tapestry, silver vessell, and so much other

plate as may furnish sundrie cupbordes to the summe ofte times of a

thousand or two thousand pounde at the leaste; wherby the value of

this and the reast of their stuffe doth grow to be inestimable. Likewise

in the houses of knightes, gentlemen, marchauntmen, and other

wealthie citizens, it is not geson to beholde generallye their great

provision of tapestrie Turkye worke, pewter, brasse, fine linen, and

thereto costly cupbords of plate woorth five or six hundred pounde, to

be demed by estimation. But as herein all these sortes doe farre

exceede their elders and predecessours, so in tyme past the costly

furniture stayed there, whereas now it is descended yet lower, even

unto the inferior artificiers and most fermers39 who have learned to

garnish also their cupbordes with plate, their beddes with tapestrie and

silk hanginges, and their table with fine naperie whereby the wealth of

our countrie doth infinitely appeare...."

Much of this wealth has, of course, been scattered. Time, poverty, war, the rise and

fall of families, have caused the dispersion of these treasures. Sometimes you find

valuable old prints or china in obscure and unlikely places. A friend of the writer,

overtaken by a storm, sought shelter in a lone Welsh cottage. She admired and

bought a rather curious jug. It turned out to be a somewhat rare and valuable ware,

and a sketch of it has since been reproduced in the Connoisseur. I have myself

discovered three Bartolozzi engravings in cottages in this parish. We give an

illustration of a seventeenth-century powder-horn which was found at Glastonbury

by Charles Griffin in 1833 in the wall of an old house which formerly stood where

the Wilts and Dorset Bank is now erected. Mr. Griffin's account of its discovery is

as follows:--

"When I was a boy about fifteen years of age I took a ladder up into

the attic to see if there was anything hid in some holes that were just

under the roof.... Pushing my hand in the wall ... I pulled out this

carved horn, which then had a metal rim and cover--of silver, I think.

A man gave me a shilling for it, and he sold it to Mr. Porch."

It is stated that a coronet was engraved or stamped on the silver rim which has now

disappeared.

Seventeenth-century Powder-horn, found in the wall of an old house at

Glastonbury. Now in Glastonbury Museum

Monmouth's harassed army occupied Glastonbury on the night of June 22, 1685,

and it is extremely probable that the powder-horn was deposited in its hiding-place

by some wavering follower who had decided to abandon the Duke's cause. There is

another relic of Monmouth's rebellion, now in the Taunton Museum, a spy-glass,

with the aid of which Mr. Sparke, from the tower of Chedzoy, discovered the

King's troops marching down Sedgemoor on the day previous to the fight, and gave

information thereof to the Duke, who was quartered at Bridgwater. It was preserved

by the family for more than a century, and given by Miss Mary Sparke, the great-

granddaughter of the above William Sparke, in 1822 to a Mr. Stradling, who placed

it in the museum. The spy-glass, which is of very primitive construction, is in four

sections or tubes of bone covered with parchment. Relics of war and fighting are

often stored in country houses. Thus at Swallowfield Park, the residence of Lady

Russell, was found, when an old tree was grubbed up, some gold and silver coins of

the reign of Charles I. It is probable that a Cavalier, when hard pressed, threw his

purse into a hollow tree, intending, if he escaped, to return and rescue it. This, for

some reason, he was unable to do, and his money remained in the tree until old age

necessitated its removal. The late Sir George Russell, Bart., caused a box to be

made of the wood of the tree, and in it he placed the coins, so that they should not

be separated after their connexion of two centuries and a half.

Seventeenth-century Spy-glass in Taunton Museum

We give an illustration of a remarkable flagon of bell-metal for holding spiced

wine, found in an old manor-house in Norfolk. It is of English make, and was

manufactured about the year 1350. It is embossed with the old Royal Arms of

England crowned and repeated several times, and has an inscription in Gothic

letters:--

God is grace Be in this place.

Amen.

Stand uttir40 from the fier

And let onjust41 come nere.

Fourteenth-century Flagon. From an old Manor House in Norfolk

This interesting flagon was bought from the Robinson Collection in 1879 by the

nation, and is now in the Victoria and Albert Museum.

Many old houses, happily, contain their stores of ancient furniture. Elizabethan

bedsteads wherein, of course, the Virgin Queen reposed (she made so many royal

progresses that it is no wonder she slept in so many places), expanding tables,

Jacobean chairs and sideboards, and later on the beautiful productions of

Chippendale, Sheraton, and Hipplethwaite. Some of the family chests are elaborate

works of art. We give as an illustration a fine example of an Elizabethan chest. It is

made of oak, inlaid with holly, dating from the last quarter of the sixteenth century.

Its length is 5 ft. 2 in., its height 2 ft. 11 in. It is in the possession of Sir Coleridge

Grove, K.C.B., of the manor-house, Warborough, in Oxfordshire. The staircases are

often elaborately carved, which form a striking feature of many old houses. The old

Aldermaston Court was burnt down, but fortunately the huge figures on the

staircase were saved and appear again in the new Court, the residence of a

distinguished antiquary, Mr. Charles Keyser, F.S.A. Hartwell House, in

Buckinghamshire, once the residence of the exiled French Court of Louis XVIII

during the Revolution and the period of the ascendancy of Napoleon I, has some

curiously carved oaken figures adorning the staircase, representing Hercules, the

Furies, and various knights in armour. We give an illustration of the staircase newel

in Cromwell House, Highgate, with its quaint little figure of a man standing on a

lofty pedestal.

Elizabethan Chest, in the possession of Sir Coleridge Grove, K.C.B. Height, 2 ft. 11

in.; length, 5 ft. 2 in.

Sometimes one comes across strange curiosities in old houses, the odds and ends

which Time has accumulated. On p. 201 is a representation of a water-clock or

clepsydra which was made at Norwich by an ingenious person named Parson in

1610. It is constructed on the same principle as the timepieces used by the Greeks

and Romans. The brass tube was filled with water, which was allowed to run out

slowly at the bottom. A cork floated at the top of the water in the tube, and as it

descended the hour was indicated by the pointer on the dial above. This ingenious

clock has now found its way into the museum in Norwich Castle. The interesting

contents of old houses would require a volume for their complete enumeration.

In looking at these ancient buildings, which time has spared us, we seem to catch a

glimpse of the Lamp of Memory which shines forth in the illuminated pages of

Ruskin. The men, our forefathers, who built these houses, built them to last, and not

for their own generation. It would have grieved them to think that their earthly

abode, which had seen and seemed almost to sympathize in all their honour, their

gladness or their suffering--that this, with all the record it bare of them, and of all

material things that they had loved and ruled over, and set the stamp of themselves

upon--was to be swept away as soon as there was room made for them in the

grave. They valued and prized the house that they had reared, or added to, or

improved. Hence they loved to carve their names or their initials on the lintels of

their doors or on the walls of their houses with the date. On the stone houses of the

Cotswolds, in Derbyshire, Lancashire, Cumberland, wherever good building stone

abounds, you can see these inscriptions, initials usually those of husband and wife,

which preserved the memorial of their names as long as the house remained in the

family. Alas! too often the memorial conveys no meaning, and no one knows the

names they represent. But it was a worthy feeling that prompted this building for

futurity. There is a mystery about the inscription recorded in the illustration "T.D.

1678." It was discovered, together with a sword (temp. Charles II), between the

ceiling and the floor when an old farm-house called Gundry's, at Stoke-under-Ham,

was pulled down. The year was one of great political disturbance, being that in

which the so-called "Popish Plot" was exploited by Titus Oates. Possibly "T.D."

was fearful of being implicated, concealed this inscription, and effected his escape.

Staircase Newel Cromwell House, Highgate

Our forefathers must have been animated by the spirit which caused Mr. Ruskin to

write: "When we build, let us think that we build for ever. Let it not be for present

delight, nor for present use alone; let it be such work as our descendants will thank

us for, and let us think, as we lay stone on stone, that a time is to come when those

stones will be held sacred because our hands have touched them, and that men will

say as they look upon the labour and wrought substance of them, 'See! this our

fathers did for us.'"

Piece of Wood Carved with Inscription Found with a sword (temp. Charles II) in an

old house at Stoke-under-Ham, Somerset

Seventeenth-century Water-clock, in Norwich Museum

Contrast these old houses with the modern suburban abominations, "those thin

tottering foundationless shells of splintered wood and imitated stone," "those

gloomy rows of formalised minuteness, alike without difference and without

fellowship, as solitary as similar," as Ruskin calls them. These modern erections

have no more relation to their surroundings than would a Pullman-car or a newly

painted piece of machinery. Age cannot improve the appearance of such things. But

age only mellows and improves our ancient houses. Solidly built of good materials,

the golden stain of time only adds to their beauties. The vines have clothed their

walls and the green lawns about them have grown smoother and thicker, and the

passing of the centuries has served but to tone them down and bring them into

closer harmony with nature. With their garden walls and hedges they almost seem

to have grown in their places as did the great trees that stand near by. They have

nothing of the uneasy look of the parvenu about them. They have an air of dignified

repose; the spirit of ancient peace seems to rest upon them and their beautiful

surroundings.

Sun-dial. The Manor House, Sutton Courtenay

Table of Contents: