stands a cyclopean image of Matreya, the Buddha of Futurity. It is
seventy feet in height, and is said to be carved from one solid block
of wood, but it is coloured to look like bronze. Ascending a long
flight of steps, we reached a gallery running round the temple about
the level of his shoulders. I found that this gallery led into two
circular buildings, one on each side, constructed for the support of
two immense rotating cylinders, about seventy feet in height, full of
niches, each niche containing the image of a Buddhist saint.
They are rickety old things, and thickly coated with dust, but on
certain days worshippers come and stick on strips of paper, bearing
prayers. To turn these cylinders is apparently an act of homage to the
whole saintly family, and enlists the good-will of the whole lot. Some
Lama monasteries deal thus with their 128 sacred books and 220 volumes
of commentary, placing them in a huge cylindrical bookcase, which they
turn bodily, to save the trouble of turning individual pages--the
understanding having apparently small play in either case.
It was nearly 6 A. M. ere we reached the Lama Temple, so that
we were too late to see the grand morning service, as that commences
at 4 A. M., when upwards of a hundred mats are spread in the
temple, on each of which kneel ten of the subordinate Lamas, all
wearing their yellow robes and a sort of classical helmet of yellow
felt, with a very high crest like that worn by Britannia. They possess
red felt boots, but can only enter the temple barefooted. The Great
Lama wears a violet-coloured robe and a yellow mitre. He bears a sort
of crozier, and occupies a gilded throne before the altar: a cushion is
provided for him to kneel upon. The whole temple is in darkness or dim
twilight save the altar, which is ablaze with many tapers.
When the copper gong sounds its summons to worship, they chant litanies
in monotone, one of the priests reading prayers, from a silken scroll,
and all joining in a low murmur, while clouds of incense fill the
temple. A peculiarity of this chant is, that while a certain number of
the brethren recite the words, the others sing a continuous deep bass
accompaniment. Again the gong marks the change from prayer to sacred
chants, and after these comes a terrible din of instrumental music--a
clatter of gongs, bells, conch-shells, tambourines, and all manner of
ear-splitting abominations. Then follows a silence which may be felt,
so utter is the stillness and so intense the relief.
HADDON HALL
JOHN LEYLAND
When the Derbyshire Wye has pursued its winding way from its source
in the millstone grit, and between the wooded steeps and precipitous
limestone cliffs that curb and shape its course towards Bakewell, the
hills on either bank recede, and the river flows through pleasant
alluvial meadows, overlooked by occasional rocky scars, and by woods
of fir, ash, beech, and oak, to its confluence with the Derwent at
Rowsley. Some two miles below Bakewell, shortly before the stream of
the Lathkil comes down from its enchanting valley on the right, with
its narrow tributary, the Bradford, to swell the waters of the Wye,
the limestone crops out as a platform on the opposite bank, and there,
half-concealed by the umbrageous woodland, stand the time-worn towers
and walls of Haddon. Whether we approach the spot from the direction
of Rowsley or of Bakewell, the prospect can scarcely be surpassed
in its kind, either for the wondrous grouping of the grey towers
and battlements on the slope of the hill, or for the rich beauties
of the varied foliage on the height beyond, and the flower-decked
meads and pellucid stream below. These charms of a truly English
landscape, and an old English mansion, have long had, and must continue
to have, a spell of fascination for the artist and lover of the
picturesque; but it is not only for them that visitors come in a
ceaseless stream to Haddon. What other place can wake such impressions
of old-time greatness touched by the witchery of bygone romance? It
is here--better, perhaps, than any other spot in England--that we can
grasp the conditions of life of the mediæval and Tudor gentlemen. The
long line of the Vernons passes before us. We witness them, generation
by generation adding to the majestic pile; the vacant chambers are
peopled with stately ladies and mail-clad knights, the bowmen are
ranged in the courtyard, and the sentinel keeps watch from the tower.
We see the knight in anxious deliberation on questions of State and
wonder what answer shall be returned to the King-maker’s letter. We
partake of the bounteous hospitality of the Knight of the Peak, as many
strangers have done before, bethinking ourselves anon of his daughter,
fair Dorothy, and how that Manners is concealed in the woods, watching
the light in her chamber. Then the sounds of revelry strike upon the
ear, the door opens and she steals down the steps, and presently we
hear the clang of hoofs upon the road. It is, indeed, such impressions
as these that have given to the external beauties of Haddon Hall the
additional charm of legend, poetry and romance, and have contributed to
make it a place to which visitors from afar will always delight to come.
[Illustration: HADDON HALL. ENGLAND.]
Although the various parts of the celebrated hall have been built
at widely different periods, and upon a sloping and irregular rocky
platform, its plan is very easy to understand, and it may be well, at
the outset, to explain the disposition of the buildings as clearly as
may be. They surround two courtyards--the lower one, to the west, on
the river front, and the upper one, separated from the first by the
great hall and domestic offices, rising up to the east on the hill-side
behind it. The visitor enters the lower quadrangle at its north-western
angle, placing his foot, as he passes the postern, in a hole which has
been worn deeply by unnumbered strangers before him. He notices, on his
right, beneath the archway, the porter’s room, with a bedstead that
may well have kept that functionary wakeful; and beyond it, still on
the right hand and western side, the so-called Chaplain’s Room--with
its hunting-horn, old musket, Seventeenth Century boots, service of
pewter platters, and other miscellaneous contents--as well as two
other chambers, before the domestic chapel is reached. This edifice
occupies the south-western angle, and extends about half-way up the
southern side of the lower courtyard. Being not at right angles with
the other portions of this quadrangle, it gives, with its picturesque
bell-turret, a pleasing variety to the buildings within; and,
externally, its east window and the angles of its chancel and southern
aisle, with the heavy buttress at the western end, add materially to
the picturesque effect of the hall. The chapel, moreover, contains,
with some of the foundation walls, the oldest portions of the edifice,
and the round column and chalice-like font are anterior, perhaps, to
the coming of the Vernons to Haddon. The south side of the western
quadrangle is completed by a range of constructions, including passages
to the private apartments, and a turret stair to the battlemented
wall; and leading up to the doorway is a flight of steps--added in the
Sixteenth Century--which projects into the area of the courtyard. This
space is further broken up by the three steps which extend across it
from north to south, dividing it into an upper and a lower platform.
Standing upon the slight elevation thus gained, the chapel, the
buildings opposite on the western side, the entrance gateway, with the
very curious corbelling and constructive ties over it in the angle, and
the offices on the western side, with the turret, have a most pleasing
and varied effect.
The main block of buildings, lying between the two quadrangles, is now
entered by the porch, which leads into a lobby or passage separating
the great hall on the right from the kitchen and its offices on the
left. This arrangement was general in mediæval dwelling-places, and may
be seen in many of the timber manor-houses of Lancashire and Cheshire,
where, as we see it at Haddon, the Minstrel’s Gallery is usually over
the entrance passage, at the end of the hall opposite to the daïs. At
Haddon, the table at the upper end still remains, supported on its
three pedestal legs, and we think of the time when the King of the
Peak held festival there, as we look upon its time-worn board. It is
to be observed that the constructional conditions of the hall rendered
it impossible to add the great bay, which was a chief feature of
mediæval banqueting-rooms--one that may be seen in its perfection in
the magnificent, but roofless hall of Wingfield, a few miles away. In
the manor-houses of Lancashire and Cheshire, to which allusion has
been made, the withdrawing-room lies in general immediately behind the
great hall, and adjacent to the daïs, but at Haddon we find, in that
position, a private dining-room, with a fine recessed window; and the
drawing-room, which is above it, is approached by a flight of stone
steps. The drawing-room at Haddon is a beautiful tapestried chamber,
with fine views from its bay window over the gardens and down the
valley of the Wye; and from it access is had to the Earl’s Bedroom
and the Page’s Room. On the other side of the lobby from which the
hall is entered is a sloping passage leading down to the kitchen, with
its huge fireplace and curious culinary appliances, and other doors
from the same passage open into the buttery, wine-cellar, add sundry
offices. The great hall, and the domestic offices described, complete
the enclosure of the first courtyard and form the western side of the
second. The northern side of this upper quadrangle is formed of a
series of small chambers; and a staircase from the hall-passage leads
up to the quaint tapestried rooms above them, which, if tradition may
be believed, were the nursery and the rooms of Dorothy Vernon, of Lady
Cranborne, daughter of John Manners, eighth Earl of Rutland, and of
Roger Manners. By the same staircase from the passage, access is had to
the Minstrel’s Gallery, as well as to the gallery on the eastern side
of the hall (a later addition), which brings the visitor to the top of
the stone steps by which the drawing-room is reached. At that place are
the segmental steps of solid oak, whereby the magnificent Long Gallery
or Bedroom is entered. This great chamber, which is a chief glory of
Haddon, will be alluded to later. It occupies the whole length of the
southern side of the upper courtyard, and projects picturesquely at
its eastern end upon the terrace, where a window affords a view of the
winter garden towards Dorothy Vernon’s Walk. From the Long Gallery a
door leads into the range of buildings enclosing the second quadrangle
on its eastern side. These are the anteroom, with Dorothy Vernon’s
Steps leading down to the Terrace; the State Bedroom, with its Gobelin
tapestry, its strange bas-relief of _Orpheus taming the Beasts_;
its huge bed and ancient hangings, and its mirror called “Queen
Elizabeth’s Looking-glass;” the Ancient Stateroom, a chamber coeval
with the angle tower; and the little passage-room over the gateway--the
original entrance to the castle--whence the winding-stair is reached,
leading up to the Peveril Tower, which dominates the whole range of
buildings. From this elevation the visitor sees the two courtyards
below him, with the woods and terraces, and the upper and lower gardens
on the south side, as well as the way leading down to the footbridge
over the Wye, and a fine prospect of the winding vale of that river,
and of many a distant hill.
Having thus before us the general plan of the buildings of Haddon
Hall, we may proceed to consider the historical, legendary, and other
considerations to which the venerable edifice very naturally leads us.
There have been those who have chosen to see, in the lower parts of its
construction, the evidences of Saxon work, and, indeed, very likely
Haddon was a location in Saxon times. However, that may be, we find
it mentioned in Domesday Book as a berewick of the Manor of Bakewell,
and the first possessor of whom we have authentic knowledge was that
same William Peveril, a natural son of the Conqueror, to whom he
granted “Peveril’s Place in the Peke,” and who also had custody of the
Manor of Chatsworth. Thus, at this very early period, we find Haddon
associated in ownership with two of the most interesting places in the
Peak district. The Peverils did not long enjoy their possessions, for
William Peveril, probably a grandson of the first possessor, having,
it was alleged, poisoned Ranulph, Earl of Chester, who supported
Matilda, took to ignominious flight in order to avoid punishment, and
his possessions fell to Henry II. It is possible that some parts of
the foundations of Haddon belong to the time of the Peverils, but,
at any rate, the memory of their association with it is preserved
in the name of the north-eastern tower. At the date of their fall,
Haddon--or, to speak more precisely, Nether Haddon, for Over Haddon
lies some two miles away on the hills--was held by William de Avenell
in knight’s-service, and the King thus became direct lord of his fee.
Towards the close of the Twelfth Century, Haddon came to the Vernons
by the marriage of Richard de Vernon with Avicia, a daughter and one
of the co-heiresses of William de Avenell, the other being married to
Sir Simon Bassett. This Richard de Vernon was descended from the Barons
of Shipbroke, the first of whom, William de Vernon, came over with the
Conqueror, and received his barony at the hands of Hugh Lupus, Earl of
Chester. The Vernon name is derived from the Lordship which the family
held in what is now the Department of the Eure and Arrondissement of
Evreux.
We now reach the celebrated episode of Dorothy Vernon, upon which the
fate of Haddon hung and which has lent the glamour of romance to the
scenes in which she moved. Sir George Vernon, her father, the last heir
male of the Haddon line, was twice married, and his effigy now lies in
Bakewell Church, with those of his two wives, Margaret, daughter of Sir
Gilbert Tayleboys, and Maude, daughter of Sir Ralph Langford. Of his
two daughters, Margaret, the elder, was married to Sir Thomas Stanley
of Winwick, in Lancashire, son of the third Earl of Derby; and Dorothy,
the younger--who ultimately became sole heiress--to John Manners, the
second son of Sir Thomas Manners, first Earl of Rutland. It is not easy
to say at this date what could have been the strong objection which the
“King of the Peak” is averred to have had to his daughter’s marriage
with John Manners, whose father was of high descent, and died, covered
with honours, in 1543, having had a royal augmentation granted to his
arms, by reason of his descent from Anne Plantagenet, sister of Edward
IV. It may, indeed, be that Sir George had planned some great alliance
for his daughter, and was ill content with a younger son, or perhaps
differences of religion were at the root of his objection, or, we may
suppose again, that some personal antipathy, of which there is no
record, was felt by the knight to his daughter’s lover. However this
may be, tradition tells us that the attachment was a secret one, or, at
least, that the meeting of Manners and Dorothy Vernon was under her
father’s ban. Legend has grown up about the episodes, and it is related
that Manners lingered in the woods of Haddon disguised as a forester or
a hunter, gaining speech at times with the lady, and watching the light
in her window. As to the actual circumstances of the elopement--if
elopement there was, which seems probable--we have tradition alone to
guide us. It is said that, on the occasion of certain festivities at
the Hall--held, as some aver, in honour of the marriage of her elder
sister--Dorothy stole away from the gay scene, ran down to the terrace
by the steps from the anteroom which now bear her name, and joined
her lover, who had horses waiting near. The pair then mounted, and
galloped, as the story goes, all through the night, until they reached
Aylston, in Leicestershire, where they were married on the morrow.
The memory of Dorothy Vernon will linger long about the tapestried
chambers and sweet-scented gardens of Haddon, and whatever there may be
of truth or falsehood in the story of her elopement, the visitor who
passes down the steps and walks beneath the low-hanging boughs of the
yew-trees on the terrace, or is shadowed by the limes and sycamores in
Dorothy Vernon’s Walk, where the banks are carpeted with flowers in
the spring-time, will do well to cherish this legendary history, which
has given an unfailing charm to Haddon. In Bakewell Church, moreover,
where both Dorothy and her husband lie buried, he may see her kneeling
effigy, and, if her features should strike him as homely, and somewhat
unattractive withal, he will bethink him what profound depths of
feeling, and what strange capacities for romance, exist unsuspected in
the life of every day. It will be of interest here to record the fact
that, in the year 1841, when the church of Bakewell was being restored,
excavations were made on the site of the monument of John Manners
and his wife, and remains believed to be theirs were found in wooden
coffins. “The head of the female,” we read, “was still covered with
hair, cut short on the forehead, but long behind, extremely friable,
remarkably soft, and of a beautiful auburn colour, and in it were found
six brass pins.” The wife of John Manners died on Midsummer Day, 1584,
but her husband survived many years, and died on the 4th of June, 1611.
He continued to reside at Haddon, and showed no lack of interest in
the great house that had become his own. There can be no reasonable
doubt that the Long Gallery was built by him, and thus one of the
chief beauties of the Hall is attributed to its first possessor of the
Manners’ name. Both within and without, the three great bays relieve it
from all monotony, and the first impression on entering it is of its
grandeur and dignity. The Long Gallery or Ball-Room was a customary
feature in great houses of Tudor and Stuart times, and may yet be seen
in many places--as, for example, in very stately form at Belvoir, and
characteristically at Astley Hall, in Lancashire, but nowhere more
attractively than at Haddon. There its length is more than one hundred
and nine feet, its width eighteen feet, and its height fifteen feet.
The heavy steps of solid oak by which it is entered, and the whole
flooring of the room are said to have been cut from one gigantic oak
which grew in the woods. The wainscot is divided by fluted pilasters
into panels, which have arched tops, and, above, the boar’s-head crest
of the Vernons, and the Manners’ peacock, with roses and thistles,
are alternated. In the windows also there is blazonry of the arms of
Rutland and Shrewsbury, with the royal shield of England; and over the
mantel hangs a very remarkable picture, representing Thomyris, Queen of
the Massagetae, victorious over Cyrus, whose head is being presented to
her.
The subsequent relation of the Manners family with Haddon Hall need
not occupy us very long, for the building itself was completed, and
the addition of the terraces and some features of the gardens left it
as we see it now, save that its chambers were not yet bare. John, the
eighth Earl, who lived at Belvoir and Haddon alternately, espoused
the cause of the Parliament, and took the Solemn League and Covenant.
Belvoir Castle was captured by the Royalists, and suffered sadly in the
subsequent troubles, the Earl meanwhile living mostly at Haddon, where
his magnificence, it would seem, rivalled that of the “King of the
Peak.” He shared in the Restoration; and, as we read in Lysons, between
1660 and 1670, although the family were then living mostly at Belvoir,
there was a prodigious consumption of beeves and sheep at Haddon, and
particularly that an open Christmas was held there in 1663, when, as
appears by the bailiff’s charges, outlay was made for much work in the
kitchen, and for pipers and dancers to make the guests merry withal.
John, the ninth Earl, was created Marquis of Granby and Duke of Rutland
by Queen Anne, and was succeeded, upon his death at Belvoir in 1711,
by his son John, the second Duke, who died in 1721, and he again by
his son, also named John, the third Duke, who lived occasionally at
Haddon. It was, however, during his lifetime that the family finally
quitted their ancient home by the Wye, and the Hall was dismantled
about the year 1740. Yet, ever since that time, the successive Dukes
of Rutland have safeguarded the venerable edifice, and, without
attempting restoration, by structural supports and careful watching,
have preserved it from decay. It is to them that the public owe the
inestimable privilege of being allowed to linger within the time-worn
walls and chambers, which, besides being of abounding interest in
themselves, awaken so many delightful memories of history and romance.
When the Hall ceased to be a place of residence not all its adornments
were removed. The tapestry deserves special attention, there being, in
several of the rooms, some fine remains of Gobelins and other work.
The graceful drawing-room is partially hung with it, as was customary,
in such manner as to conceal the entrance to the Earl’s dressing-room,
and there are curious iron hooks for holding it back. The Earl’s
bedroom itself is tapestried with representations of the chase. One
of the rooms in the western range, as well as several small chambers
on the north side, including Dorothy Vernon’s room, and others not
usually shown to visitors, contain much good work of Flemish and French
manufacture. In addition to the large picture in the Long Gallery, and
the portraits in the dining-room which have been alluded to, there are
many paintings in various parts of the house. A number of them are
in the anteroom leading from the Long Gallery, including portraits
of Queen Elizabeth and Charles I. There is a portrait, also, in the
drawing-room, of the sixth Earl of Rutland, who died in 1632, and
several of less importance are in the great hall. Many of the pictures
are Italian, and little seems to be known about them; but they are
thought to have been brought or sent to England by Sir Oliver Manners,
a younger brother of Dorothy’s husband.
The visitor to Haddon will notice some other objects of curiosity and
interest, and he will do well not to hurry through the vacant rooms,
for, if the plan of the house be understood, and something of the
several dates of its erection, very much may be learned of the ways,
manners, and surroundings of mediæval and Tudor gentlemen. Then,
passing down through the pleasant gardens, and recrossing the River
Wye, the stranger will look back gratefully upon the grey towers,
lighted perchance by the setting sun, and will bear away with him an
impression of beauty, grandeur, and romance which surely will never
fade.
[Illustration: CATHEDRAL OF PALERMO, ITALY.]
CATHEDRAL OF PALERMO
JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS