Hard by the church stood the old Hall, an ancient structure, which about
the year 1600 was said to be in sad decay. Soon afterwards Sir Robert
Wroth brought it, and, at great cost, converted it into the imposing
mansion of which an old water-colour drawing gives some idea. It will be
seen that the facade is Jacobean, while what lies behind it wears a
familiar Tudor air. This house, and apparently its contents too, were
sold with the estate, and all was kept by Miss Whitaker much as the
Wroths left it. Mr. Maitland, on his accession, carried out considerable
alterations; for, among other inconveniences, many rooms were accessible
only through others, corridors and passages being details with which our
ancestors seem to have been able to dispense. Unfortunately, as too
often happens, the new wine proved too strong for the old bottle, and
just after Mr. Maitland and his family had settled in their new home, a
fire broke out at night owing to a beam in the library chimney having
ignited. The story goes that the beam fell on a wire, which set a bell
in the butlers room a-ringing. He gave the alarm and all the inmates of
the house escaped. It was winter and a cold night: the ponds were frozen
and little or no water was obtainable, so that the house, the pictures,
and 10,000 printed books and MSS. perished, but not before many valuable
objects had been rescued. For many years the site lay vacant behind the
great iron gates, until, some five-and-twenty years ago (1879), the new
Hall arose upon it, and the road was diverted to its present course.