bas-relief, which occupies a large space in the front wall of the
ALFRED SALOON, next to the Great Library. It represents Alfred the
Great instituting, or founding, trial by jury—the king himself
standing in the centre surrounded by his nobles and people, and
delivering a scroll, which he holds in his hand, bearing the words, in
Saxon characters, “That man fiœbe gemot on cum Wapentace” (That man, in
every hundred (Wapentake), shall find twelve jury). It was designed by
Rossi, a sculptor of modern time.
The castle is entered from this quadrangle or court-yard, by the grand
entrance, or state entrance, as it is called. This is a fine modern
doorway, of Norman design, in a machicolated central tower of three
stories in height. Over the doorway is a large central window, on
each side of which is a colossal figure of Hospitality and Liberty
respectively. Over this again are the arms of the Howards, sculptured,
and these again are surmounted by the machicolations, parapet, &c.
Immediately on entering this splendid ducal residence, the visitor
reaches the GRAND-STAIRCASE leading to its various apartments.
The BARON’S HALL, or BANQUETING CHAMBER, is a remarkably fine, and even
gorgeous, apartment. “Its architecture, like that of the chapel, is in
the style of the fourteenth century. It is 71 feet in length, by 35
in breadth, lofty in proportion, and, as a whole, produces a striking
effect on the spectator.” The roof is of Spanish chestnut, elaborately
carved, and the sculptures around the walls and on the windows are of
elegant design. The stained-glass windows are, however, “the grand
attraction, for in these the story of English freedom is brilliantly
told. They are thirteen in number. The great window illustrates the
ratification of the great charter by King John, who seems to pause
in the act of affixing his signature to the instrument.” Behind him
are several prelates, while to his right are the Pope’s Legate and
the Archbishop of Dublin, and, to his left, Cardinal Langton. There
are also Baron Fitzwalter, the Master of the Knights Templars, the
Lord Mayor, and others. In the other windows, which were superbly
executed by Eginton, one of the best of our artists in stained glass,
are full-length figures of eight barons of the Norfolk family, who
aided in procuring the charter—the heads, however, as well as those
in the large window, being portraits of members of the Howard family
of the beginning of the present century, at which time the windows
were executed. On the walls are several fine suits of armour, &c. This
magnificent hall was first opened on the 15th of June, 1815, being the
600th anniversary of the signing of the charter.
The GREAT DRAWING-ROOM is a noble apartment, commanding a magnificent
and extensive view of the valley of the Arun, and the surrounding
country. In it is a large collection of family portraits, among which
are Thomas Howard, Earl of Surrey, vindicating himself (“Sire, he was
my crowned king. If the authority of Parliament had placed the crown
on that stake, I would have fought for it. Let it place it on your
head and you will find me as ready in your defence”) before Henry VII.
for the part he took at the battle of Bosworth field; John, Duke of
Norfolk, who fell at Bosworth, and who is generally known as “Jocky of
Norfolk,” from the rude couplet:—
“Jocky of Norfolk, be not too bold,
For Dickon thy master is bought and sold”—
which was found written on his gate, as a warning, on the morning
when he set out on his fatal expedition; Henry, Earl of Surrey, the
great poet of his age, “who was not only the ornament of the court
of Henry VIII., which he attended in the capacity of companion to the
Duke of Richmond, but of the still more brilliant and chivalrous court
of Francis I. His travels on the Continent were those of a scholar
and knight-errant; and the vision which he had in Agrippa’s magic
mirror of his lady-love, the ‘Fair Geraldine,’ whom he has so nobly
perpetuated in verse, excited in him such a transport of enthusiasm,
that, at a tournament in Florence, he challenged all who could handle
a lance—Turk, Saracen, or cannibal—to dispute against him her claims
to the supremacy of beauty, and came off victorious: but the well-known
hatred of the tyrant Henry to all the Howards prematurely extinguished
this bright promise of excellence, and Surrey, the last victim of
the royal murderer, perished on the scaffold at the early age of
twenty-seven:”—
“Who has not heard of Surrey’s fame?
His was the hero’s soul of fire,
And his the bard’s immortal name.”
In 1547, he was beheaded on Tower Hill. One of the dark blots on
British history, was the execution of this true hero of the pen and
sword. The portraits also include those of Thomas, Duke of Norfolk
(by Holbein), who was beheaded, and his wife, Mary Fitzalan; Henry
Fitzalan; Cardinal Howard; “Belted Will Howard,” of whom we shall speak
in our account of Castle Howard; and various other members of this
distinguished family.
The DINING-ROOM, formed out of the ancient family chapel, is
principally remarkable for its large stained-glass window, the subject
of which is the meeting of King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba—the
heads being portraits of the twelfth duke and his duchess. On each side
is respectively the mercy-seat in the tabernacle, and the interior of
the tabernacle.
The LIBRARY, the building of which was commenced in 1801, is an
apartment of much magnificence. The book-cases and reading-galleries
are supported by fifteen columns, wrought out of the richest Spanish
mahogany; while the spidered roof displays a beauty of workmanship and
delicacy of carving, enriched with fruit-foliage, which have seldom
been surpassed. It is divided into several compartments for reading
recesses, and communicates with the ALFRED SALOON by folded doors.
The CHAPEL adjoins the Baron’s Hall, and is a chaste and beautiful
apartment.
It is not necessary further to describe the interior of the castle; but
it will be well to note that a chamber over the inner gateway enjoys
the traditionary fame of having been the sleeping-place of the Empress
Matilda. It is a low square apartment, and contains a bedstead which
the queen is said to have occupied; but, unfortunately for the charm
of the tradition, it is some centuries later in date than the time in
which she lived.
Under the east end of the castle is a large vault, upwards of 60 feet
in length, the massive walls of which are formed of blocks of chalk,
strengthened with ribs of stone, and are of about 7 feet in thickness.
This vault was used, of course, as a place of safety for prisoners,
and a curious instance of escape from it is recorded. It seems that in
the year 1404 one John Mot was here confined on a charge of robbery,
but contrived to make his escape. Before he could get clear away, his
flight was discovered, and he was followed. Finding himself closely
pursued, he suddenly turned to the College of the Holy Trinity, and
seizing the ring attached to the gate just as his captors were about
to lay hands on him, claimed the right of sanctuary. He was, however,
forcibly seized, and carried back to prison. Knowledge of the affair
reaching the ears of the priests, two of the parties who assisted the
constable in making the seizure of Mot were summoned before the bishop,
found guilty, and “ordered to make a pilgrimage on foot to the shrine
of St. Richard at Chichester, to present an offering there according
to their ability, to be cudgelled (_fustigati_) five times through the
church of Arundel, and five times to recite the paternoster, ave, and
creed, upon their knees before the crucifix of the high altar.” Before
the sentence, however, could be carried into execution, the prisoner
was wisely restored to the church, the cudgelling was remitted, and
offerings of burning tapers were substituted.
A word may be said about the fine old horned owls that at one time
gave renown to the Keep—owls of a peculiar breed, and about whom many
curious anecdotes have been related. At present, however, they greet
the visitors under glass, in cases; but it is understood that some
of their progeny are preparing to take the places in life of the old
denizens of the time-honoured ruin.
It will be seen that all the inhabited portions of Arundel Castle are
of comparatively recent date; they are fitted up with much judgment and
taste, but by no means gorgeously. In one of the lesser chambers are
hung some modern drawings of great merit and value, by Prout, Hunt,
Copley Fielding, David Cox, and other artists of the best days of the
British school.[30]
The KEEP is the great attraction of the castle and domain of Arundel.
Though now but a picturesque ruin, it has been prominent in all the
internal contests of the kingdom, from the days of Alfred the Great
to the reign of the third William. To this relic of a remote age the
public are freely admitted; and a courteous custodier is always at hand
to detail its history, and conduct through its winding and tortuous
paths from base to summit.
Dating from a time certainly anterior to the Conquest, before
the application of “villainous saltpetre,” it must have been
impregnable—commanding the adjacent country on all sides, and
rendering the Arun a mere tributary to the will of its lords; it had
a large share in controlling the destinies of the kingdom during the
several civil wars to which it had been subjected. It remains one of
the most picturesque of the ruins that in England recall the memories
of battles lost and won, of glories continually claimed and resigned by
rival competitors, and of heroes whose mortal parts have been dust from
ages so remote that their records are read only in “the dim twilight of
tradition.”
The historian, Tierney, states that the Keep probably comprised
the principal feature of the Saxon stronghold. It is of a circular
formation, and of immense strength. The height from the bottom of
the fosse, on the external side, was 70 feet; on the internal, 69;
which, with walls and battlements, produced an elevation altogether of
96 feet on the east; 103 on the west. The walls varied from 8 to 10
feet, strengthened by ribs and buttresses. The inner space, which is
circular, afforded accommodation to the garrison; in extent it varied
from 59 to 67 feet in diameter. In the interior were several chambers,
converging towards a subterraneous room in the centre. Differing from
other Keeps, it contained no openings or loopholes from which the enemy
could be annoyed, and it was only from the ramparts and battlements
that the garrison could repel the assaults of the assailant. No traces
can be seen of the original Saxon entrance.
Connected with the Keep is, of course, the Well-tower. Bevis’s Tower,
the Barbican, is seen immediately underneath, while, at a short
distance, is “the Chapel of St. Mary, over the gate.”
The square building, known as the Clock Tower (introduced in the
engraving), and through which a vaulted Norman passage leads to the
Keep, dates from a period not long after the Conquest; parts of it
bear unequivocal marks of so early an origin. The upper portion of the
building has been renovated; but the lower portion remains almost as
perfect as when completed, as it is said to have been, by the first
Earl of Arundel. “The passage abutted to the fosse, and was defended by
a portcullis and drawbridge.” A window is pointed out from which, A.D.
1139, the Empress Maud, it is said, “scolded” the King, Stephen, who
besieged the castle in which she was a guest.
The CHURCH OF ST. MARTIN forms a portion of the Keep, and some relics
of the ancient and venerable structure yet endure. It was the oratory
of the garrison, and is “mentioned in Domesday Book as enjoying an
annual rent of twelve pence, payable by one of the burgesses of
Arundel.” From a window of an early date is obtained a view of the
castle immediately beneath; but the prospect of the adjacent country is
very beautiful, not only of the fertile land and bountiful river, but
of the far-off sea; and hours may be pleasantly and profitably spent
on this mount that time has hallowed. In bidding the pleasant theme
farewell, we cannot do better than quote the old rhyme:—
“Since William rose, and Harold fell,
There have been counts of Arundel;
And earls old Arundel shall have,
While rivers flow and forests wave.”
It is scarcely necessary to add that the grounds and park are worthy of
the castle; they are especially beautiful, varied in hill and dale—the
free river at their base—full of magnificently grown trees, and
comprise eleven hundred acres, well stocked with deer.
In the park, which was originally the hunting forest of the old Earls
of Arundel, will be noticed Hiorn’s Tower—a triangular, turreted
building, of about 50 feet in height, and designed as a prospect tower
by the architect whose name it bears. Near to it is Pugh-Dean, where,
it is said, Bevis, the Great Castellan of Arundel, and his famous
horse, “Hirondelle,” are buried. A mound, covered with a clump of
Scotch fir-trees, is pointed out as his burial-place. Near this place,
too, is the site of the old chapel and hermitage of St. James.
The old bridge over the river Arun was situated a short distance below
the present structure. It is first mentioned in the charter which
Queen Adeliza granted to the monks of the Priory de Calceto, in which
lands for their support, and an allowance of timber for repairs of the
bridge, were granted. It was entirely rebuilt in 1724, principally of
stone taken from the ruins of the adjoining hospital. In 1831 it was
widened and improved.
[Illustration: _Church of the Holy Trinity, Arundel._]
The CHURCH OF THE HOLY TRINITY. All that remains of this once famous
establishment is a square building “enclosing a square yard, partly
occupied by cloisters, and partly devoted to other purposes of a
monastic establishment.” In it are some splendid monuments to members
of the noble families who have owned the place. One of the principal is
that of Thomas, Earl of Arundel, and his countess, Beatrix, daughter of
John, King of Portugal; and another striking feature is a canopied tomb
near the altar.
The CHURCH possesses many highly interesting features, and forms a
pleasing object in the landscape, from whichever side it is seen. It
is cruciform, and consists of a nave with side aisles, a chancel,
and transept; and in the centre rises a low tower, surmounted by a
diminutive spire.
The original ecclesiastical foundation was that of the alien priory, or
cell, dedicated to St. Nicholas, established by Roger de Montgomery,
Earl of Arundel, soon after the Conquest, and subjected to the
Benedictine Abbey of Seez, or de Sagio, in Normandy. It consisted
only of a prior and three or four monks, who continued to conduct the
establishment for nearly three centuries, until the third year of the
reign of Richard II., when Richard Fitzalan obtained a licence to
extinguish the priory and to found a chantry for the maintenance of a
master and twelve secular canons with their officers. Upon this change,
it was styled “the Church of the Holy Trinity.” At the suppression, it
was endowed with a yearly revenue of £263 14_s._ 9_d._
Being intended as the mausoleum of his family, the founder supplied
ample means to enrich it with examples of monumental splendour. The
tomb of his son, Thomas Fitzalan, and his wife, Beatrix, daughter of
John, King of Portugal, was the earliest of those placed in the church.
It is of alabaster, finely sculptured, and was formerly painted and
gilt. It contains the effigies of the earl and his lady; at the feet
of the earl is a horse, the cognizance of the Fitzalans; and at those
of his lady are two lap-dogs. Around, in niches, are small standing
figures of ecclesiastics, or pleureurs, with open books, as performing
funeral obsequies; and above them as many escutcheons. Other stately
tombs are erected to the memory of John Fitzalan and his wife, and
Thomas Arundel and his wife, “one of the eyres of Richard Woodevyle,
Earl Rivers, sister to Elizabeth, Queen of England, sometime wife to
King Edward IV.”
The chapel which contains these monuments is still in a dilapidated
state, as was the whole church—“ruinated” during the temporary
possession of the Iconoclasts of the Commonwealth—until Henry Charles,
Duke of Norfolk, restored it, and put upon it a roof, which it had long
been without.
Visitors to Arundel will note near the bridge some ancient ruins.
According to the historian, Tierney, they are the remains of the
_Maison Dieu_, that owed its origin to the same munificence as the
collegiate chapel and church. It formed a quadrangle, which was
occupied by the chapel, refectory, and its offices, and the various
chambers. There was a cloister round the court-yard. Quoting the
statutes, “the establishment,” says Mr. Tierney, “was to consist of
twenty poor men, either unmarried or widowers, who, from age, sickness
or infirmity, were unable to provide for their own sustenance. They
were to be selected from among the most deserving of the surrounding
neighbourhood, giving the preference only to the servants or tenants
of the founder and his heirs; they were to be men of moral lives and
edifying conversation, and were required, as a qualification for
their admission, to know the ‘Pater Noster,’ the ‘Ave-Maria,’ and the
‘Credo,’ in Latin.”
[Illustration: _Tombs of Thomas Fitzalan and Lady Beatrix, Arundel
Church._]
These buildings were dismantled at the time of the dissolution of the
monasteries, and no doubt suffered much at the time of the siege and
sack of Arundel, during the Civil War, by the Parliamentarians under
the command of Sir William Waller; in 1724 a large quantity of the
materials was used in the building of the bridge, that portion only
being rescued which is now seen, and which has been preserved by the
Duke of Norfolk because of the interest attached to the once sacred
structure.
Arundel, with its many attractions, is barely two hours distant from
London, and within half an hour of populous Brighton; yet visits of
strangers to the old town and venerable castle are comparatively few.
PENSHURST.
PENSHURST—the “Home” of the Sidneys—the stately Sidneys: stately
in their character, in their careers, in their patriotism, in their
heroism, in their rectitude, and in their verse—is surely one of the
best of the Stately Homes of England to be included in our series. The
very name of Penshurst seems to call up associations of no ordinary
character connected with that heroic race, and with many of the most
stirring incidents of British history. With Penshurst every great
name memorable in the Augustan age of England is linked for ever;
while its venerable aspect, the solemnity of the surrounding shades,
the primitive character of its vicinity, together with its isolated
position—away from the haunts of busy men—are in harmony with the
memories it awakens.
Here lived the earliest and bravest of the Anglo-Norman knights. Here
dwelt the ill-fated Bohuns—the three unhappy Dukes of Buckingham,
who perished in succession, one in the field and two on the scaffold.
And here flourished the Sidneys! Here, during his few brief years of
absence from turmoil in the turbulent countries of Ireland and Wales,
resided the elder Sidney, Sir Henry, who, although his fame has been
eclipsed by the more dazzling reputation of his gallant son, was in all
respects good as well as great—a good soldier, a good subject, a good
master, and a good counsellor and actor under circumstances peculiarly
perilous. This is the birthplace of “the darling of his time,” the
“chiefest jewel of a crown,” the “diamond of the court of Queen
Elizabeth.” Here, too, was born—and here was interred the mutilated
body of—the “later Sidney:” he who had “set up Marcus Brutus for his
pattern,” and perished on the scaffold—a martyr for the “good old
cause,” one of the many victims of the meanest and most worthless of
his race. With the memories of these three marvellous men—the Sidneys,
Henry, Philip, and Algernon—are closely blended those of the worthies
of the two most remarkable eras in English history. Who can speak of
Penshurst without thinking of Spenser,
(“For Sidney heard him sing, and knew his voice,”)
of Shakspere, of Ben Jonson—the laureate of the place—of Raleigh,
the “friend and frequent guest” of Broke, whose proudest boast is
recorded on his tomb, that he was “the servant of Queen Elizabeth, the
counsellor of King James, and THE FRIEND of Sir Philip Sidney”—of the
many other immortal men who made the reign of Elizabeth the glory of
all time? Reverting to a period less remote, who can think of Penshurst
without speaking of the high spirits of a troubled age—
“The later Sidney, Marvel, Harrington,
Young Vane, and others, who called Milton—friend.”
Although its glory is of the past, and nearly two centuries have
intervened between the latest record of its greatness and its present
state; although it has been silent all that time—a solemn silence,
broken only by the false love-note of an unworthy minstrel, for the
names of “Waller” and “Sacharissa” discredit rather than glorify its
grey walls—who does not turn to Penshurst as to a refreshing fountain
by the wayside of wearying history?
[Illustration: _Penshurst, from the President’s Court._]
The history of the descent of Penshurst to the Sidneys may be summed
up in few words—that of the Sidneys themselves will require greater
space. It was “the ancient seat of the Pencestres, or Penchesters, who
settled here in Norman times,[31] and one of whom was Sir Stephen, that
famous Lord Warden of the Five Ports, and Constable of Dover Castle,
who flourished in the reigns of Henry III. and Edward I., and who was a
very learned man, and ordered all the muniments, grants, &c., relating
to Dover Castle to be written in a fair book, which he called _Castelli
Feodarium_, and out of which Darell composed the history of that
fortress.” Dying without male issue, his estates were divided between
his two daughters and co-heiresses, Joan, wife of Henry Cobham, and
Alice, wife of John de Columbers, to the latter of whom fell Penshurst,
&c., which was soon afterwards conveyed to Sir John de Poultney,
who (15th Edward II.) had license to embattle his mansion houses at
Penshurst and elsewhere. He was four times Lord Mayor of London, and,
dying, his widow “married Lovaines, and conveyed these estates into
that family with consent of her first husband’s immediate heirs;” and
they afterwards passed, by an heiress, to Sir Philip St. Clere, whose
son sold them to the Regent Duke of Bedford. On his decease in Paris
in the reign of Henry VI., Penshurst and other manors passed to his
next brother, Humphrey, the “good Duke of Gloucester,” after whose
sad death, in 1447, they reverted to the crown, and were, in that same
year, granted to the Staffords. On the attainder of Edward, Duke of
Buckingham, Penshurst reverted to the Crown.