A MORNING AT LITTLE MORETON.
In that interesting old national record, the Dome Bock, or Doomsday
Book, as it is commonly called--a survey which William the Norman
caused to be made of all the possessions of the Crown, and which for
eight hundred years has been a perpetual register of appeal for those
whose title to their estates has at any time been questioned--mention
is made of the township or ville of Rode, which even at a period so
remote as the Saxon era, as appears, had been divided into the two
manors of Moreton and Rode, places that at a subsequent date gave names
to two distinct families.
Moreton, or Little Moreton, as it is usually designated, to distinguish
it from the adjoining township of Moreton-cum-Aucumlow, or Great
Moreton, is situated at the extreme corner of Cheshire, in the midst of
rich level meadow-breadths that stretch away from the foot of the wild
moorland ridge that here divides the county from Staffordshire--a spur,
so to speak, thrown out from the lofty Pennine range, or "back-bone of
England," and which, in olden times, was included within the limits
of the great forests of Leek and Macclesfield. These bold outliers of
sandstone rock, from their coarse conglomerate and smoothly-rounded
outlines towards the plain, show unmistakably that they were deposited
in water and moulded to their present form by the great icebergs that
in the glacial period swept past and ground down their rugged forms to
mix with and enrich the soil below. Picturesque are they in appearance
as they stretch away towards the north in wild heathery wastes, where,
in the pleasant autumn time, the "hech-hech" of the startled grouse
and the sound of the sportsman's gun may oftentimes be heard. Just
above Little Moreton the well-known Mow Cop[71]--the "high-crowned Mole
Cop," as Michael Drayton calls it--rises to a height of 1,090 feet,
its summit crested with an imitation ruin that, as tradition says,
was built by Randle Wilbraham, of Rode, nearly a century and a half
ago; and further north the range terminates in the bold promontory of
Cloud End, which descends in a series of steep shelving crags towards
the Dane, a gentle stream that comes down from the hills near Bosley,
and, after performing some little acts of industry at Congleton, and
receiving the indignities of that ancient borough in return, wanders
freakishly onwards to add its tribute to the waters of the Weaver.
The notice in the Norman survey, brief though it is, gives us a side
glance of the condition of the country in the far off days of Gurth
and Wamba; it tells us of the woods that spread over the hill sides,
of the aerie for hawks, and of the enclosures for taking wild deer;
and as we read it we picture in imagination the wild scenes of sylvan
solitude when the serfs and bondmen of the Saxon thegn tended their
herds beneath the wide-branched oaks, and the swineherd, winding his
horn, gathered his scattered porkers to fatten on the luxurious banquet
of acorns and beech-mast which the forest supplied. As Ben Jonson, in
the "Sad Shepherd," says:
Like a prince
Of swineherds! Syke he seeks delight in the spoils
Of those he feeds, a mighty lord of swine!
But the reign of the country-loving Saxon came to an end. When William
of Normandy came out of the gory field of Senlac a victor, and
strengthened his claim to the English throne by his military successes,
he, in conformity with existing usage, seized upon the lands of the
vanquished Harold and his adherents, and bestowed them upon the hordes
of needy adventurers who had in truth placed the crown upon his head,
and who looked for their recompense in the unreserved plunder of the
Saxon people; for the chief having taken what he could by force of
arms, the knights who helped him took what they could of what was left:
_chascun sur sa main forte_: the Saxons were to them, in fact, what the
Arabs call "Damalafong," things to be plundered, and plundered they
were by the unanswerable right of "_la main forte_," the strong Norman
hand.
The Earldom of Chester was granted by the Conqueror to that
pious profligate Hugh d'Avranches, better know from his savage
characteristics as Hugh Lupus, or Hugh the Wolf, and he in turn
distributed the lands among his feudatory followers. Rode has its
reminiscences of the predatory adventurers who accompanied Duke
William, for at the time of the survey it had been wrested from the
possession of its Saxon owner and had passed into the hands of two
Norman grantees, Hugh de Mara, progenitor of the Barons of Montalt, and
William Fitznigel, Baron of Halton, a grandson, it is said, of that Ivo
de Constance who encountered the English whom King Ethelred sent to
France and slew them as they stepped ashore.
The manor of Moreton was held under the barony of Halton by knight
service by a family who took their surname from their possessions. Some
time during the long reign of Henry III. Letitia or Lettice Moreton,
who, through failure of the direct male line, had become heiress,
conveyed the lands in marriage to a neighbouring knight, Sir Gralam
de Lostock, of Lostock Gralam, near Northwich, the fourth in direct
descent from another Norman warrior, Hugh de Runchamp; and their
grandson, also named Gralam, adopted his grandmother's patronymic. From
this time the estate continued in strict male descent until the time of
Sir William Moreton, Knight, Recorder of London, who died childless
in March, 1763, when the estates passed by will to his sister's son,
the Rev. Richard Taylor, Rector of West Dean and Vicar of West Firle,
in Sussex, who, in accordance with his uncle's directions, assumed the
surname of Moreton. He died in 1784, leaving, with two daughters, a
son who succeeded as heir, the Rev. William Moreton, who died some few
years ago, leaving two daughters his co-heiresses, Frances Annabella,
of Maison Moreton, Pau, in France, widow of John Craigie, Esq.,
formerly sheriff-substitute of Roxburghshire, and Elizabeth Moreton,
a sister of mercy at Clewer, near Windsor, the present owners of the
Moreton moiety of the manor of Rode, and the picturesque old moated
manor house that forms the subject of our present paper.
As already stated, the other moiety of the manor of Rode gave name to
a family who were settled there as early as the reign of King John.
Whether they were descended, like the Moretons, from the Lostocks
of Lostock Gralam, as Mr. Ormerod seems to believe, is not very
clear, but if they were their kinship did not strengthen the ties of
friendship or put them on more neighbourly terms with each other, for
the Recognisance Rolls and other public records bear testimony to the
frequent feuds that arose between the two families, and tell of the
many occasions on which the chiefs of each house were bound over in
heavy recognisances to keep the peace towards each other. One of their
disputes was of a sufficiently humorous character to make it worth
recording. In the chancel of Astbury Church is a chapel or side aisle
that appears to have belonged jointly to the two manors, and in the
fifth year of Henry the Eighth's reign a quarrel arose between William
Moreton and Thomas Rode, the owners of two moieties, as to "which
should sit highest in the church, and foremost goo in procession." It
was a weighty matter, and Sir William Brereton was eventually entrusted
by George Bromley, lieutenant justice of Chester, who had been joined
with him in the arbitration, with the responsibility of determining
which of these sticklers for precedence should have the highest seat
in the synagogue, and, as we learn from the award, which is printed at
length in the _Magna Britannia_, "the said William Brereton, calling
to him xii. of the most auncyent men inhabiting within the parish
of Astebery," somewhat comically decided "that whyther of the said
gentylmen may dispende in landes, by title of inheritance, 10 marks
or above more than the other, that he shall have the pre-eminence in
sitting in the churche, and in gooing in procession, with all other
lyke causes in that behalf;" a decision that is worthy of being classed
with the direction given a few years later (1534) by one of the
Townleys of Townley, who, when called upon to issue an order regulating
precedence to the seats in Whalley Church, in Lancashire, decreed that
the earliest comers should take precedence in the highest seats nearest
the choir, observing that it might operate beneficially on "the proud
wives of Whalley," who would not "rise betimes to come to church." The
award signed by Sir William Brereton is preserved among the archives
of the Moreton family, but which of the disputants outdid the other
in liberality--acquiring priority by purchase--history hath failed to
record.
The William Moreton who was a party to this pretty quarrel married
Alice, one of the daughters of Sir Andrew Brereton, lord of Brereton,
by whom he had, with other issue, a son, William Moreton, born a year
or two after the accession of Henry VIII., and there is good reason to
believe that he was the one who began the erection of the present manor
house of Little Moreton on the site of an earlier building, his son,
John Moreton, who died about the end of Elizabeth's reign, completing
the work the father had begun. A grandson of this John Moreton, Dr.
Edward Moreton, who was rector of Tattenhall, Barrow, and Sephton,
married a niece of William Laud, Archbishop of Canterbury, and by her
was father of the Right Reverend William Moreton, Bishop of Kildare, in
Ireland, and afterwards Bishop of Meath, who died in Dublin, November
21st, 1715, leaving an only son, Sir William Moreton, of Moreton,
Recorder of London, before referred to, the last of the direct male
line who owned the manor.
There were formerly in the Moreton Chapel in Astbury Church some altar
tombs and other sepulchral memorials of this ancient race, but these
have, in the course of ages, disappeared, with the exception of a
monumental slab, east of the altar steps, which bears an inscription to
the memory of the last male representative of the stock--"Sir William
Moreton Knt. recorder of the city of London, who died March 14 1763
aged 67 and his wife Dame Jane Moreton (widow of John Lawton of Lawton)
who died February 10 1758 aged 61." On the same tomb there is also an
inscription to the memory of Sir William's mother, Dame Mary Jones, who
died April 19th, 1743, aged 85, the second wife of William Moreton, of
Moreton, who afterwards married Sir Arthur Jones.
King, in his "Vale Royal," referring to the ancestral home of the
Moretons, says:--"Near the foot of that famous mountain called Mow
Cop begins the water of the Whelock, making his first passage near
unto Moreton, wherein are two very fair demeans and houses of worthy
gentlemen and esquires, of most antient continuance--the one of the
same name of Moreton, and which, as I have heard, gave breeding to that
famous Bishop Moreton, who in the time of Richard III. contrived that
project of the marriage of the two heirs of the Houses of York and
Lancaster, from whence proceeded the happiness that we enjoy at this
day." The old chronicler is here alluding to Cardinal John Moreton,
or Morton, Master of the Rolls in 1473, created Bishop of Ely and
Lord Chancellor in 1478, and Archbishop of Canterbury in 1486. Sir
Thomas More, who was well qualified to appreciate his character, has
given an account of this prelate in his "Utopia." Godwin and Fuller
both incline to the opinion that he was a native of Dorsetshire, but
differ as to the exact place of his birth, the former fixing it at Bere
Regis and the other at St. Andrew's, Milborne; others say he was born
in Cheshire, but there is no evidence, so far as can be discovered,
confirmatory of King's statement that the old manor house at Moreton
"gave breeding to that famous bishop."
From Mow Cop to Little Moreton is but a few minutes' walk. It may be
reached by a short path across the fields or by the high road--the
London road of the old coaching days, leading through Congleton and
the Potteries--which is a little more circuitous, though not much.
The country is for the most part level, the base of the hills being a
mile or so to the eastward, and, though not pre-eminently beautiful or
impressive, presents nevertheless many charms of situation and rural
and scenic attractions enough to leave a pleasant impress upon the
memory. The land is devoted to crops and pasture, and the pleasant
green lanes winding in sun and shadow between meadows and corn lands,
with glimpses here and there of rustic cottages and blooming apple
orchards, call up thoughts and fancies ever new and ever beautiful.
It was a bright, clear morning, near the close of the pleasant
autumn time, when our visit was made; a cheery November day, with an
exhilarating freshness in the atmosphere that made us almost think the
mild October was trying to hold its own, though the drift of withered
leaves that crackled beneath our feet, the tall trees half stripped
of their vernal pride, and the naked underwood and brambles told
unmistakably that summer had passed away, and that winter was rapidly
advancing in the background to--
Reign triumphant o'er the conquer'd year.
The red leaves rent from the shivering branches descended in flaky
showers, reminding us of William Allingham's lines on "Robin
Redbreast"--
Bright yellow, red, and orange,
The leaves come down in hosts;
The trees are Indian princes,
But soon they'll turn to ghosts;
The leathery pears and apples
Hang russet on the bough,
It's Autumn, Autumn, Autumn late,
'Twill soon be Winter now.
Turning off the highway a gate admits us to a private road that
leads across a pasture field in which a few stirks and young stock
are grazing; the tall trees that border it, divested of their summer
garniture, look gaunt and grim and bare; the intricate network of twigs
overhead shows like a pattern in lace against the sky, and their
nakedness reveals to us the many happy nests that in the warm summer
time were
Upon those boughs, which shake against the cold--
Bare, ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
Below us a little rindle that comes down from the neighbouring heights,
courses its way with many a freakish twist and sinuosity, and in
front the long moorland ridge, sullen and sombre looking, stretches
across the plain towards Congleton Edge and the gigantic Cloud, its
rugged slopes softened in places with patches of scrub and gorse. A
few minutes brings us in full view of the curious old mansion we are
in search of--the "Old Hall" as it is called, to distinguish it from
the more pretentious residence hard by, which has vainly endeavoured
to assume its name. It attracts the eye from a distance, but it is
not until you are close upon it that you fully realise the effect of
its picturesquely broken outlines, its projecting upper storeys and
numerous gabled roofs, its quaint casemented windows, its curious
columnar chimneys partially draped with ivy, and its walls chequered
in black and white and diapered in patterns wrought in trefoils
and quatrefoils and chevrons and lozenges upon the white ground of
intervening plaster. It is a singularly interesting specimen of the
half-timbered manor-house of the early part of the sixteenth century,
and, though in a decayed and dilapidated state, still preserves more
nearly its original form and features than perhaps any other example of
domestic architecture of equal antiquity in the country.
Drawing near we see that it is encompassed by a moat, now partially
choked with rubbish, which encloses altogether about a statute acre of
land, and which on the south side is spanned by an antiquated bridge of
one arch, with the arms of its owners carved in relief on a panel in
one of the battlements. The south side constitutes the principal front,
and presents a surprising variety and fancifulness in its parts. It is
of three storeys, the uppermost being much narrower than the others,
and rising like the clerestory of a church from the sloping roof of
the lower apartments. From near the centre of the main structure a
lofty gable is advanced towards the bridge, the ground story of which
forms a covered gateway, giving admission to the inner quadrangle. The
doorway merits special attention by the richness and profusion of its
carvings; the framework enclosing the door is composed of an elaborate
series of round, fillet, and hollow mouldings, and the huge outer
posts are worked with double cable mouldings, enclosing an elaborate
scroll work of foliage, the frieze above, which is supported by double
brackets, having a running ornament of arabesque character. Above this
doorway, divided by dwarf pilasters, is a double row of panels, with
trefoiled heads, the spandrels of which are in each case enriched with
carved work, and in one of them is placed an horologe of antique date.
Surmounting them is a large square window, lighting the porch chamber,
divided by moulded mullions into five rows of lights, double transomed.
In the storey above, which slightly projects from a coved cornice,
is another window of similar character but of larger dimensions: an
overhanging gable with barge boards and carved pendants crowning the
whole. The general effect of the exterior is light and graceful,
exhibiting that picturesque irregularity of outline so favourable
to external beauty which our ancestors knew how to produce without
unnecessary sacrifice of internal comfort.
As we cross the threshold our attention is drawn to an old stone horse
block standing in a corner behind the gate, from which, doubtless, in
days gone by, many a stately matron and many a graceful maiden has
mounted to her palfrey to follow hawk and hound. A door opens on each
side of the gateway, one communicating with some small rooms, and the
other admitting to a small chamber that has evidently served as the
porter's lodge. At the opposite end, entering into the quadrangle, is a
wide doorway, the sideposts of which are deserving of special notice;
they are elaborately ornamented, the upper portion of each being
adorned with the carved representation of a soldier holding a partisan
or bill in his hand; and from the morion or head piece and the other
accessories, we are able to fix pretty nearly the period when this
part of the mansion was built. Within the covered porch a stair winds
spirally round the trunk of an immense tree that reaches from floor to
roof, giving admission to several panelled chambers--the State rooms,
as they are commonly designated, though, alas! they have now little
stateliness to boast of--and also to the gallery occupying the third or
uppermost storey of the south front, extending, with the exception of a
small withdrawing room, the entire length of that part of the building
from east to west. The length of this gallery is seventy-one feet,
with a width of twelve feet, and the height to the centre of the roof,
which is of open timber work adorned with quatrefoils, is seventeen
feet. The lower portions of the walls are covered with oak wainscoting,
arranged in panels, and above is a continuous line of windows extending
all round, with the exception of a space in the centre, where a small
chamber projects over the gateway, the profusion of light thus gained
reminding us of Lord Bacon's complaint that in his day the houses "were
so full of glass that you cannot tell where to come to be out of the
sun or the cold." The glazing of these windows is very remarkable; it
is arranged in a kind of diaper work, and exhibits a marvellous variety
of intricate forms. Scratched with a diamond on one of the panes we
noticed the following couplet--
I stay here both day and night
To keep out cold and let in light.
The long gallery bears a close resemblance to the one formerly existing
at Bramall Hall, near Stockport, and, though smaller, is not unlike in
its proportions and general arrangement the grand gallery or banqueting
hall at Haddon. It is difficult to determine what purpose it could
have been intended to serve, for the width is hardly sufficient to
allow of its being used for a dancing room. At the east end is a female
figure representing Fate, holding a pair of compasses in one hand and
in the other a sword, with which she is piercing a globe placed above
her head, the following inscription being carved in two panel-like
compartments; one on either side:--
THE SPEARE WHOSE RULER
OF DESTINYE IS KNOWLEDGE.
At the opposite end is another female figure in flowing drapery
representing Fortune blindfolded, with the right hand raised above the
head pointing to her wheel, on the rim of which is inscribed--_Qui modo
scandit corruet statim_ (He who is climbing now will shortly be falling
down), and at the sides are two panels inscribed--
THE WHEELE WHOSE RULE IS
OF FORTUNE IGNORANCE.
The small chamber leading from the gallery before referred to is
wainscoted, and has an elaborately ornamented fireplace with the
figures of Justice and Mercy on the sides, and between them a heraldic
shield with the arms of Moreton quartering those of Macclesfield and
surmounted by the Moreton crest, the quartering having allusion to the
marriage of John de Moreton in the reign of Edward III. with Margaret,
daughter of Jordan and sister and co-heir of John de Macclesfield.
Projecting at right angles from the building just described, and
forming the eastern side of the quadrangle, is a long uniform wing of
two storeys, extending up to the main body of the hall, and containing
a number of small gloomy apartments now covered with dirt and dust
and litter, and apparently appropriated originally to the use of
the servants and retainers. At the end nearest to the entrance is
the domestic chapel, extending in a direction east and west; it is
approached by a separate entrance, and is of small dimensions compared
with the other parts of the building, suggesting the idea that in
former times the good people of Moreton, while taking up a very
considerable amount of space for the transaction of their temporal
concerns, were able to manage their spiritual affairs within extremely
moderate limits. The entire length of the structure is thirty feet, but
the chapel proper is not more than twelve feet by nine feet. The old
sanctuary is now in a sadly dilapidated condition, and damp and dreary
enough to remind one of Longfellow's lines--
What a darksome and dismal place!
I wonder that any man has the face
To call such a hole the House of the Lord.
The pavement is broken and dislocated, the walls are stained with
damp and mildew, and altogether it exhibits signs of indifference and
unseemly disrespect enough to sear the eye and grieve the heart of any
one in whom the sense of veneration is not entirely extinguished. It is
now made a depository for useless lumber, and has been applied to even
baser uses, cattle having been stalled, where of yore the mass was sung
and matins and vespers were said. This part of the hall is approached
by an ante-chapel, the doorway of which is enriched with a series of
half-round and hollow mouldings of late Perpendicular date; a part of
the old oak screen separating the chancel from the nave remains, but
from the upper portion, where the rood formerly existed, a plastered
wall is carried up to the roof, which is flat and worked in panels. At
the further, or eastern, end is a pointed window divided by mullions
into five lights carried up to the head with a drip-mould protecting
it on the outside. At the opposite end is a small square-headed window
of four lights, and there are indications of another window having at
some time or other existed on the south side. The plaster work of the
chapel is enriched with an ornamentation of Renaissance character, and
the walls in places are strewn with scripture texts in black letter
characters and of earlier date than the authorised version, but they
are now so much defaced as to be hardly decipherable.
Between architecture and history there exists a closer connection
than is commonly supposed, for the former subtly expresses the needs,
the habits, and the ideas of changeful centuries, epitomises much of
the poetry and romance of the past, and marks the gradual growth and
development of human society during successive centuries. In England's
homes we may read much of England's history--the old dwelling-places
of the people are the types and emblems of the changing life of the
country, and even in their decay, when having outlived their vital
purpose and they survive only in ruin, they serve as memorials to show
us how men lived and acted in the days that are gone before.
Little Moreton, though not one of the most pretentious, is certainly
one of the most complete and genuine relics of mediæval England. The
exterior, as we have previously said, is remarkable for the variety and
picturesqueness of grouping, but the interior is even more interesting.
The master feature of the whole building, and that which most attracts
the attention of visitors, is the portion extending along the north
side of the quadrangle comprising the entrance, the great hall, and
the principal entertaining-rooms. The effect of the entire facade,
as viewed from the gateway, is very striking, and it is doubtful
whether, for variety of design, peculiarity of construction, and
excellence of workmanship, it is equalled by any other timber house in
the kingdom. Upon this part the architect seems to have lavished all
his ingenuity and skill, and to have endeavoured to combine as much
lightness and delicacy of detail as was consistent with stability of
structure. Projecting from the main line of frontage are two singularly
picturesque bay-windows, each forming five sides of an octagon, but
of unequal dimensions. They are each of two storeys, the upper range
of windows overhang the lower, and they are in turn surmounted by
projecting roofs that form a series of small gablets, from which hang
elaborately-ornamented pendants. The glazing of these windows, as in
the case of those in the Long Gallery before referred to, is very
remarkable, the panes being small and joined together by slips of
lead in such a way as to represent stars, crosses, roses, and other
devices as varied in form as the figures in a kaleidoscope. On a band
ornamented with scroll-work carried round the upper tiers are the
following inscriptions:--
GOD IS AL IN AL THING
THIS WINDOVS WHIRE MADE BY WILLIAM MORETON IN THE YEARE OF
OURE LORDE MDLII
RYCHARD DALE CARPEDER MADE THEIS BY THE GRACE OF GO
Doubtless "Rychard Dale" was proud of the work to which he affixed
his name, and just cause he had to be. It looks as if the taste of a
life-time had been expended upon it, the delicate mouldings and rich
carving evidencing the skill of the workman, and proving incontestably
that our ancestors knew how to impart grace and elegance to whatever
material they might employ in the useful or ornamental purposes of
architecture. Beautiful it must have been in its pristine state, but
it could hardly have possessed the charm of romance or have been so
picturesque to look upon then as now. Time lovingly clothes with added
beauty the decayed memorials of the past, and the peculiar warmth and
richness of colouring which age has given--the sombre tints of the
oaken framework, the creamy white of the plaster, the faded reds and
yellows of the old roofs, and the sober green of the dark-hued ivy
wrapping itself round the tall chimney-shafts being wanting in the days
of its proud estate.
The entrance is by a porch, occupying the north-east corner, and
advanced several feet from the main structure. What a wonderful old
doorway it is that we pass through. On those clustered and twisted
pillars that form the side posts Richard Dale, the "carpeder," seems
to have lavished his greatest skill, every part of the timber work
where the carver's tool could be employed being wrought with all
the nicety of art; the spandrels of the low Tudor arch are adorned
with figures of dragons, and the lintel over them has a running
zig-zag ornament carved in relief. The space above is occupied with
a double row of exquisitely-carved and moulded dwarf pilasters, the
spaces between being filled in with quatrefoils, while over them,
springing from a coved cornice, is a projecting window that reaches
across the entire width of the bay, surmounted by a gabled roof.
From the doorway a passage leads across the western end of the main
structure, communicating on the one side with the kitchens, buttery,
and other domestic offices, and on the other with the great hall
which faces the entrance gateway. It is a spacious apartment 34ft.
by 21ft., exclusive of the large bay which projects far out into the
court-yard, and is open to the roof-timbers. It is in much better
condition than the other parts of the fabric, and if adorned with
tapestry, arms and armour, and family portraits would resume much of
its original character. In the earlier days of the Moretons it was the
principal entertaining-room, and many a scene of boisterous revelry
has doubtless been witnessed within its walls in the days when "the
two-hooped pot" was indeed "a four-hooped pot," and it was accounted
fell felony to drink small beer. Though its glories are greatly faded,
it is still a magnificent feature of the old mansion, and, being in
part used as a living room by the present tenant, is better cared
for than the parts unoccupied; it retains, too, indications of old
English hospitality that once prevailed in its huge fireplace, and the
ponderous dining table of carved oak, imposing in its very massiveness,
and as antiquated in appearance as the building itself. The screen that
once separated the room from the vestibule and the kitchens, and that
customary appendage of an ancient dining hall, the musicians' gallery,
which doubtless once existed, have gone with it. A cursory examination
of the construction of the projecting oriel is sufficient to show that
it forms no part of the original structure, but was added at a later
date. In one of the lights is the heraldic coat of the Moretons, a
greyhound statant. A passage behind the hall conducts to the parlour
or drawing-room, 22ft. long and 15ft. wide. Like the dining hall, it
is lighted by a bold oriel looking into the quadrangle; the walls are
wainscoted, and the roof is covered with oak panelling arranged in
squares. The fireplace is spacious, and reaches from floor to roof;
in the space above the opening is displayed the heraldic insignia of
Queen Elizabeth--France (modern) and England, quarterly with the lion
and dragon as supporters--an achievement that by a curious mistake
Mr. Markland (Britton's Architectural Antiquities, v. ii., p. 91) has
described as that of John O'Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster. The window still
retains some other of its ancient heraldic blazonries, among them
being a shield representing the coat of Brereton with its quarterings,
placed there doubtless in compliment to Alice, daughter of Sir Andrew
Brereton, of Brereton, the mother of William Moreton, whose name is
inscribed above the windows on the exterior. In one of the lights
appears a greyhound, the coat of Moreton, and in another the crest
of the family--a greyhound's head couped and collared with a twisted
wreath. There is also displayed the red rose and crown, the badge of
Lancaster, to the princes of which house the Moretons, as military
tenants, owed allegiance.
A room of somewhat smaller dimensions opens out of the drawing-room,
and there are several chambers on the upper story that merit
examination. The glass in the windows of these rooms, as in the case
of those below, exhibits the same variety of pattern, and they are
rendered additionally interesting by the names and inscriptions traced
upon the panes by former occupants and guests. On one of them is
written the names of "Jonath'n Woodnothe" and "Marie Woodnothe," with
the date 1627, and beneath is the following couplet--
Man can noe more know weomen's mind by kaire
Then by her shadow hede ye what clothes shee weare.
Jonathan Woodnoth was the heir of Shavington, and married Mary,
elder daughter of William Moreton, of Moreton, but what made him so
spiteful against womankind is a mystery that is likely to remain for
ever unsolved. There are in other places the signatures of "Somerford
Oldfield 11 of Apr. 1627;" "Henry Mainwaring. All change I scorne;"
and "Margaret Moreton Aug. 3 1649;" the last named being doubtless
the niece of Archbishop Laud, who married Edward Moreton, and was
sister-in-law of Mary Woodnoth.
Though there is no evidence of the date when the present mansion
was erected, the mouldings and other architectural features show
clearly that it cannot be of earlier date than that of the first of
the Tudor Sovereigns; probably, it was built upon the site of a more
ancient structure in the later years of Henry VII.'s reign, and most
likely by the William Moreton who married the daughter of Sir Andrew
Brereton, and that the house needing repair, or the space being too
circumscribed, his son and successor, also a William Moreton, half
a century later of thereabouts, added the beautiful oriel windows
that give so much character to the house, completing them, as the
inscription on the outside testifies, in 1552.
Within the moated enclosure, near the north-west angle, is a circular
mound on which is placed a sun dial, and there were, according to
Lysons, formerly standing in front of the house the steps of an ancient
cross much resembling those at Lymm, but they were removed about the
year 1806.
There is a tradition current in the neighbourhood that Queen Elizabeth
was a guest at Little Moreton during one of her Royal progresses,
and that she then danced in the Long Gallery, but the story we
suspect rests on no better foundation than the creative power of the
imagination which assigns a similar honour to Brereton Hall, a mansion
a few miles distant, and to almost every old house of note in the
kingdom; and to the same unreliable source we fear we must assign the
story of the underground passages that extend beneath the moat, as well
as the subterranean chambers to which, according to common belief,
they lead. But Moreton has sufficient interest in itself, without the
mythical attractions which village gossips so much delight in, to
make it worth a pilgrimage. It is one of the few old places that have
been preserved to our day "unimproved" by the modern "renovator," but
Time has, alas made sad havoc among its beauties and peculiarities,
and those who should have preserved it as the apple of their eye have
unfortunately allowed it to fall into a state of dilapidation and
decay. Let us hope that some effort may be made to arrest the further
progress of needless destruction. Surely in this utilitarian age there
may be found some who--
Passing by this monument that stoops
With age, whose ruins plead for a repair,
Pity the fall of such a goodly pile.
Unless some friendly hand is stretched out, and that without loss of
time, to guard it from further injury, we may soon have to mourn the
loss of another of the ancient landmarks of our ancestors.