The vista through the Gateway, taking in the Great Court--once adorned
with statues and fountains, but now, like everything around it,
abandoned to the weather, is very striking; while the absolute silence
which pervades the scene, contrasts forcibly with its ancient stir and
splendour, and compels us, while fancy is peopling it with troops of
chivalry and their retainers, to exclaim, “Where are they?” A long
wooden table with benches, the last symbols of that hospitality for
which its noble owners were once conspicuous, stood on the grassy floor.
But these were no relics of the ancient banquet-hall, but of a modern
festive meeting, when the tenants upon the estates had met to express
their attachment to the noble Marquess and his family. The manner in
which the kitchen had been refitted for their entertainment, showed that
it must have been ‘got up’ in a style not unworthy of its feudal renown;
and, “as for the venison,”--
“Finer or fatter
Ne’er ranged in a forest, or smoked on a platter.”
<g>We</g> arrived, however, too late for the feast, though another, a much
simpler, and palatable treat awaited us--that which Nature, luxuriating
amidst the ruins of Art, had lavishly spread before us. Such piles of
masonry, such masses of ivy, were never before brought together! Here
and there, indeed, the sturdy ramparts looked through their leafy screen
with a sort of ghastly whiteness, like Hobbes’ spectre from behind the
yew-tree, or the bones of some enormous skeleton, upon which the kindly
hand of Nature had suspended her own green mantle. Nothing could be more
strikingly novel and picturesque. Along the vast framework of the
castle, on which the wealth and taste of centuries had been employed,
until its strength and beauty could receive no farther additions from
the hand of man, a straggling forest of vegetation expanded its mingling
branches. Under the same leafy covert, from the timid wren to the
ill-omened raven, birds of every feather had found a congenial roost.
From the sepulchral yew the moping owl looked out upon everything around
her as her own domain and cherished inheritance. Over our heads bats
performed their swift circles in the still twilight sky; while daws
chattered from the ancient keep, as if they had never heard a
musket-shot, nor felt the slightest apprehension of being disturbed in
their possession. On a lofty spray that overtopped every other tree, a
loving thrush serenaded his mate in the fragrant thicket below. Numerous
smaller birds, that seemed puzzled from the very abundance of the
accommodation where to fix their roost, kept up a constant fluttering
amongst the branches; while here and there was heard a bickering of
wings and twittering of bills, as if contending for possession of some
favourite branch for the night. Surely, we thought, there is room enough
here for all; and yet even there--among those spacious green arbours,
place and position were as eagerly sought and coveted by the feathered
tribes, as by the equally volatile and jealous retainers of a court.
At length all was seemingly adjusted; the stillness of night pervaded
the scene; the last shadows of twilight had faded into one common pall;
and night, attended by a host of sparkling satellites, took quiet
possession of the long line of courts that once swarmed with life and
enjoyment.
And now, between the western sky--that still retained some warm
lingering traces of sunset--and the donjon tower, mousing owls were seen
enjoying their solemn pastime, here swimming lazily through the arched
court, then along the battlements, or the margin of the clear glassy
moat; then soaring aloft, and settling for a minute or two among the
dark ivy; but still returning to make another circle and finding no
wings abroad but their own.
The contemplation of this Castle, at any period of the day, is
calculated to make a lasting impression; but when the rising moon shot
her mellow light through its old shattered casements, and the breeze
seemed to waken at the same instant and set all the ivy in motion, the
scene became still more impressive. Among the deep shadows that invested
the spacious courts, every prominent object was now brought suddenly
into view; and, with a little aid from fancy, the waving of plumes, and
the flashing of steel armour, seemed distinctly visible on the
battlements; while the fragments of crumbling masonry that lay scattered
below, as if struck by an enchanter’s wand, presented the semblance of
animated groups, that waited only the word of command to start into life
and motion. The stillness, too, which but half an hour before had
pervaded every court and tower, was succeeded by a soft rustling among
the leaves, that now flickered like quicksilver as the moonlight fell
upon them, and then lost itself in their massive branches; whilst the
shrubs and flowers that grew wild and vigorous in every court, or
clambered up the walls and archways, seemed to give forth their mingled
odours to the night wind, as it passed wooingly through their leaves,
and filled the air with incense.
“We seemed to tread on faëry land;
For, in every thing around us,
We felt the touch of a viewless hand,
And we heard the notes of a seraph band,
Whose magic spell had bound us;
While bright yclad, as in days of yore,
<g>The Knight of Raglan</g> strode before.”
The Pitched-court; the hall of state, with its magnificent bay-window;
the chapel; the fountain-court, with the grand staircase on the south
side opening upon it; then the elegant portal leading to the grand
terrace that overlooks <g>Raglan church</g>, were all traversed in succession,
with nothing to distract attention, or disturb the solitude, but the
whistle of a night-hawk, or the sound of our own footsteps on the
grassy carpet, that now forms the universal ‘pavement’ of these once
sumptuous apartments. For over the once tesselated floor, and the
tapestried walls, weeds have thrown an oblivious mantle, while--
“Ha, ha!” laughs the Ivy, “old Time to me
Hath given the glory and mastery!
So poets may sing, if it like them well,
From early matins till vesper bell;
And others may list to their minstrelsie--
I’ve a song of my own--so what care I?
Your <g>castles</g>, though stately, and strong, and tall,
_I_ conquer them all--_I conquer them all_!”
But as the faint outline here sketched will be filled up when we take
the architectural features of the <g>Castle</g> in detail, we pass on to a few
preliminary remarks.
[Illustration: Ancient armour.[196]]
<g>Grose</g>, in his ‘Antiquities,’ observes that this castle is of no great
antiquity, having been founded, as he conjectures, about the close of
the fifteenth century, although many important additions were
subsequently added. In the time of Henry VIII., as Leland informs us,
Raglan, “yn Middle Venceland [Wentland], was a fair and pleasant castel,
with to goodlye parkes adjacent;” and “the laste Lord Herbertes,” as
Morgan told him, “builded all the best coffes of the Castle of Raglan.”
Camden, in his account of the Silures, or Monmouthshire, notices it very
briefly, as “a fair house of the Earl of Worcester’s, built
castel-like.”[197]
It is not stated by Grose on what authority he places Raglan Castle
among the strongholds erected in the time of Henry VII. His observations
can apply only to those portions of it which are comparatively modern.
The Citadel, or Yellow Tower of Gwent, is of unquestionable antiquity.
In the family history we are told that Sir John Morley, a military
knight, who lived in the time of Richard II., resided here as ‘lord of
Raglan Castle.’ But postponing this question at present, as one that
will be considered more fully when we come to examine the Castle in
detail, we shall merely observe that although, as it now appears, the
Castle does not indicate any more distant origin than the reign of Henry
V., yet traces may be discovered in various portions of towers built, or
reconstructed, during every subsequent reign, down to that of <g>Charles</g>
I.--with whose fate it is so painfully associated. Owing to the
circumstance named, the learned antiquary may discover ‘a disunion of
styles;’ but taken as a whole, the Castle of Raglan presents a
remarkable harmony of proportions that hides every minute discrepancy,
heightens the general effect, and leaves the spectator under a pleasing
conviction that, in design and execution, it is the work, not of many,
but of one master mind. But to this subject we shall return; and, in the
meantime, we proceed to give a brief sketch of
<g>The Founders of Raglan.</g>--By Mr. Jones the name of the founder is traced
to that of Sir William ap Thomas.[198] This date, however, is too
modern, and only a repetition of the conjecture thrown out by Grose.
There is every reason to believe that the Clares, as early as the
thirteenth century, had a castle at Raglan, the site, of which is now
occupied by the Citadel, or Tower of Gwent, erected probably in the
reign of Henry V. The above-named Sir William ap Thomas resided at
Raglan Castle during the reign of Henry V., who knighted him for his
valour in the wars of France. He married Gladys, daughter of Sir Richard
Gam, and widow of Sir Roger Vaughan,[199] by whom he had three sons and
a daughter. Of his eldest son, William, first Earl of Pembroke, we shall
speak hereafter. But of the old military Lords of Raglan, little of
historical interest has descended to modern times. From Richard
<g>Strongbow</g>, of whom a notice has been given in the preceding sketches of
Chepstow and Tinterne, Raglan descended to Walter Bloet, “in
consideration of soldiers, money, and arms,” furnished by him for the
expedition to Ireland, of which Strongbow was the leader. By the
marriage of the daughter and heiress of Bloet with Sir James Berkeley,
it passed into and remained in that ancient family until the reign of
Henry V., when it became vested in Sir William ap Thomas, already
mentioned; whose eldest son was created by Edward IV. Lord of Raglan,
Chepstow, and Gower, and commanded to assume the surname of Herbert, in
honour of his ancestor Hubert Fitz-Henry, chamberlain to King Henry I.
To this nobleman was entrusted the care of the Earl of Richmond,
afterwards Henry VII., who was for some time a prisoner in Raglan
Castle. Sir Hubert was created, in 1469, Earl of Pembroke, in
acknowledgment of his zeal to the house of York; but his career was
brief and disastrous, for having the same year raised a corps of
Welshmen, he marched against the Lancastrians under the Earl of Warwick,
and being taken prisoner at Dane’s Moor, was beheaded at Banbury on the
27th of July.[200] Of these calamitous events, the following account,
abridged from the old <g>Chronicle</g>, may not be unacceptable to the
reader:--
“<g>King Edward</g> hearing of these Northerne proceedings, and that his
brother and Warwicke were preparing against him, sent for the Lord
Herbert, whom he had created Earl of Pembroke, to be his general in the
North; and therefore accompanied with Sir Richard Herbert his brother,
and eighteen thousand well-furnished Welshmen, marched towards the
enemy; and after him was sent Humfrey Lord Stafford, with sixe thousand
archers, to second him in his warres. These lords meeting together had
notice by espials that the Northerne made towards Northampton; to
intercept whom, the Lord Stafford, lately made Earl of Devonshire, was
employed; and Sir Richard Herbert, who with two thousand horse layd
themselves covertly by the side of a wood, and suddenly set upon the
rereward, the rest having passed; but the Northerne very nimbly turned
about and bad the Welshmen such welcome, as few of them returned to tell
of their entertainment. The king understanding of this hard beginning,
mustered his subjects on every side, intending to cope with the
Northerne himself. And Earle <g>Warwicke</g>, as forward to advance his
fortunes, gathered his friends, with purpose to encounter with <g>Pembroke</g>
and his Welsh. But before any supplies came to either of them, it
chanced the armies to meete unawares upon a fair plaine called _Dane’s
Moor_, neere to the towne of Hedgecot, three miles from Banbury, and
presently fell to a bickering, wherein Sir Henry <g>Nevill</g>, knight, son of
the Lord Latimer, upon a lusty courage venturing somewhat too farre, was
taken prisoner; and notwithstanding he yielded himselfe to his takers,
was cruelly slaine; which unmartiall act rested not long unrepaied, with
the loss of most of the Welsh next day. For the field withdrawne, the
Lord <g>Stafford</g> repaired to Banbury, and there took his lodging, where his
affections were much enamoured vpon a faire damsell in the inne. But the
Earl of Pembroke coming to the same towne, tooke into the same inne,
and commanded the Lord Stafford to provide himself elsewhere, contrary
to their agreements made before. Whereat Stafford was displeased, and
departing thence with his whole band, left the <g>Earl</g> naked of men in the
towne, and disabled the field of the archers, whereby the day was lost
upon the king’s part, for which he shortly lost his owne head. The
Northerne, inflamed for the death of young <g>Nevill</g>, the next morning most
valiantly set upon the Welshmen, and by the force of archers drave them
from their ground of advantage, which Pembroke wanting supplied with his
own prowess; and <g>Sir Richard</g>, his brother, with his poll-axe twice made
way through the battell of the Northerne without any mortal or deadly
wound; so that by their valours it was verily supposed the field had
been wonne, had not John Clapham, an esquire and servant to Warwicke,
displayed his lorde’s colours with his white beare, and from an eminent
place cried, ‘_A Warwicke! A Warwicke!_’ Whereat the Welsh were so
terrified as they turned and fled, leaving their general and his brother
alone in the field, who, valiantly fighting, were encompassed and taken,
with the death of five thousand of their men. The Earl with his brother,
Sir Richard <g>Herbert</g>, were brought to Banbury, where, with ten other
gentlemen, they lost their heads, Conyers and Clapham being their
judges.
“This second victory thus got, and the Northerne men now fleshed under
the leadinge of Robbin of Riddesdale,[201] hasted to the king’s manor of
Grafton, where the Earle <g>Rivers</g>, father to the queen, then lay, whom,
with his sonne John, they suddenly surprised, and in Northampton strucke
off their heads without any judgment. The death of these lords the king
greatly lamented, and sought to revenge: first, therefore, writing his
commissions for the apprehension of <g>Humfrey</g>, Lord Stafford of
Southwicke, who, by diligent search, was found at Brentmarsh, and
beheaded at Bridgewater, as he worthily deserved. Next hee prepared a
mighty army, and with the same marched towards Warwicke, his company
encreasing ever as he went.”[202] In another Chronicle the same
disastrous events are thus related:--
“<g>The Welshmen</g> got first the West hill, hoping to have recovered the East
hill; which if they had obteyned the victorye had been theirs, as their
unwise prophesyers promised them before. The Northern men encamped
themselves on the South hill. The Erle of Pembroke and the Lord
Stafforde of Southwike were lodged at Banbery yᵉ day before yᵉ field,
which was <g>St. James’s Day</g>; and there the Erie of Pembroke put the Lord
Stafforde out of an inne wherein he delighted much to be, for the love
of a damosel that dwelled in the house, contrarie to their mutuall
agreement by them taken; which was, that whosoever obtained first a
lodging, should not be deceyved nor removed. After many great wordes and
crakes had betweyne these two captaynes, the Lord <g>Stafforde</g> in great
despite departed with his whole companye and band of archers, leaving
the Erle of <g>Pembroke</g> almost desolate in the towne, which with all
diligence returned to his hoste lying in the field unpurvoyed of
archers, abiding such fortune as God would sende and provyde.” In the
mean time, “Sir Henry Nevil, son to the Lord Latimer, tooke with him
certaine light horsemen, and skirmished with the Welshmen in the
evening, even before their campe, where he did divers valyaunt feates of
armes; but, a little too hardy, he went so farre forward that he was
taken and yeelded, and cruell slaine; which unmerciful acte the Welshmen
sore rued the next day or night. For the Northern men being inflamed,
and not a little discontented with the death of thys nobleman, in the
mornyng valyauntly set on the Welshmen, and by force of archers caused
them quickly to descende the hill into the valey, where both the hostes
fought.”
In this hot encounter, “the Erle of <g>Pembroke</g> behaved himselfe like a
hardy knight, and an expert capitaine; but hys brother, Syr Richard
Herbert, so valyauntly acquited himselfe, that with his poll-axe in his
hand, as his enemies did afterwards report, he twice by fair force
passed thorough the battaile of his adversaries, and without any mortal
wound returned. If everye one of his felowes and companions in arms had
done but halfe the actes which he that daye by his noble prowess
achieved, the Northerne men had obteyned neither safetie nor victorie.”
The chronicler then relates the circumstance which threw the Welshmen
into a panic, by which they lost five thousand men, and then records the
result with touching simplicity:--
“The Erle of Pembroke, <g>Sir Richard Herbert</g>,[203] his brother, and divers
were taken, and brought to Banbery to be behedded. Much lamentacion and
no lesse entreatie was made to save the lyfe of Syr Richard, both for
hys goodlye personage, which excelled all men there, and also for the
noble chivalrie that he had shewed in the fielde the day of the
battaile; insomuch that his brother, the Erle, when he should lay downe
his head on the blocke to suffer, says to Sir John Conyers and
Clapham--‘_Maisters, let me die! for I am old; but save my brother,
which is yung, lustie, and hardie, mete and fit to serve the greatest
prince of Christendome._’
“But Coniers and Clapham remembering the death of the yung knight, Syr
Henry <g>Nevill</g>, cosyn to the Erle of Warwicke, could not hear on that
syde; but caused the Erle and his brother, with divers other gentlemen
to the number often, to be there behedded.”[204]
[Illustration]
<g>William</g>, eldest son of this unfortunate nobleman, succeeded to the
earldom of Pembroke, and was retained by the king to serve him in his
wars of France and Normandy for one whole year, with forty men-at-arms
and two hundred archers. But the king, being desirous to dignify his son
Prince Edward with the title of Earl of Pembroke, procured a resignation
of the same from this William, and in lieu thereof created him Earl of
<g>Huntingdon</g>, on the fourth of July, 1479. Four years later he was
constituted, by Richard III., Justice of South Wales, and entered into
covenants with the king to take Dame Catharine Plantagenet, his
daughter, to wife, before the feast of <g>St. Michael</g> following; as also to
make her a jointure in lands to the value of two hundred pounds per
annum: the king undertaking to settle upon them and their heirs male,
lands and lordships of a thousand marks per annum. But this lady dying
in her tender years, it is likely that this marriage did not take
effect. He afterwards wedded Mary, the fifth sister of <g>Woodville</g>, Earl
Rivers, by whom he had an only daughter, at whose marriage with Sir
Charles Somerset, the Castle of <g>Raglan</g>, and its dependencies, passed
into the family of Worcester.
From the genealogical history of that house we collect the following
particulars:--The Sir Charles here named was a natural son of Henry,
third Duke of Beaumont, famous in his day for his desperate assault of
the Castle of <g>St. Anjou</g>, in which he put three hundred Scots to the
sword, and hanged all the Frenchmen therein. He was afterwards Governor
of the Isle of Wight, and of Calais; was finally taken prisoner at the
battle of Hexham, and there beheaded by <g>Nevil</g> for his adherence to the
house of Lancaster. At his death his son <g>Charles</g> assumed the name of
Somerset, and being a person of abilities attained to great wealth and
honours under Henry VII.,[205] who entered him of his Privy Council,
made him Constable of Helmsley Castle, Admiral of the Fleet, sent him as
ambassador with the Order of the Garter to the Emperor Maximilian, made
him a Banneret, Knight of the Garter, and Captain of the Royal Guard. On
a second embassy to Maximilian, he concluded two treaties--gave a bond
for the payment of £10,000 in aid of the Emperor against the Turks, and
in support of the Christian religion. Living in high favour with his
sovereign, his good fortune was established by his marriage with
<g>Elizabeth</g>, heiress of William Herbert, Earl of Huntingdon, in whose
right, in 1506, he bore the title of Lord <g>Herbert of Raglan</g>.
On the accession of Henry VIII. he continued in the same high offices;
and having, with six thousand men, attended the king into France, in
1513, he was present at the taking of Therrouenne and Tournay. For his
heroic conduct in this campaign, he received the office of Lord
Chamberlain for life; and finally, on account of his descent from <g>John
of Gaunt</g>, and alliance to the king by blood, he was advanced the
following year[206] to the dignity of Earl of Worcester.
By his will, dated March 24, 1524, he ordered his body to be buried
beside that of his first wife in the chapel of <g>Our Lady</g>, now called
Beaufort Chapel, in the Castle of Windsor. He directed that, in case he
departed this life at <g>Raibo</g>, in London, or near the river Thames, his
body should be conveyed by water to the said church at Windsor, as
privately as might be, without pomp or great charge of torches, or
clothing, hearse, wax, or great dinner; but only that twenty men of his
own servants should each have mourning and bear a torch; and that the
bier, or herse, should be covered with black cloth, and have a white
<g>cross</g> upon it.
<g>Henry</g>, the second Earl of Worcester, who, during his father’s lifetime,
had distinguished himself in the king’s service, and been knighted by
Charles <g>Brandon</g>, Duke of Suffolk, was appointed one of the commissioners
for concluding a peace with the French. Departing this life in 1549, he
was buried in the church of Chepstow, where a costly monument--already
noticed--was erected to his memory.[207]
<g>William</g>, his eldest son, and third Earl of Worcester, accompanied the
Marquis of Northampton into France, to present King Henry II. with the
royal insignia of the Garter. And again, in 1573, he was sent by Queen
Elizabeth as her representative at the christening of a daughter of
Charles IX., on which occasion, in the name of his royal mistress, he
presented a font in pure gold. He married Christian, daughter of Lord
North of Earthlodge.
<g>Edward</g>, his only son and heir, was sent ambassador to the Court of
Scotland, to offer the Queen’s congratulations to King <g>James</g> on his
return from Denmark; and ten years later he was appointed Master of the
Horse. At the accession of King James, he continued in the same office,
and was also named one of the commissioners for executing the office of
<g>Earl-Marshall</g>, the Duke of Norfolk being then under sentence in the
Tower.[208] He was afterwards Lord Privy Seal; and dying on the third of
March, 1628, ætatis 79, was buried in the family vault in Windsor
Castle.[209]
In his youth, as recorded by his colleague Sir Robert Naunton, “this
earl was a very fine gentleman, and the best horseman and tilter of his
times, which were then the manlike and noble recreations of the Court,
which took up the applause of men, as well as the praise and
commendation of ladies. And when years had abated these exercises of
honour, he grew then to be a faithful and profound counsellor. He was
the last liver of all the servants of her favour, and had the honour to
see his renowned Mistress, and all of them, laid in the places of their
rest; and for himself, after a life of very noble and remarkable
reputation, he died rich, and in a peaceful old age--a fate that befel
not many of the rest; for they expired like lights blown out--not
commendably extinguished--but with the snuff very offensive to the
standers by.”[210] Sandford describes him as “a great favourer of
learning and good literature.”
[Illustration: Procession.--Morning of the Tournament.]
<g>Henry</g>, his son, the fourth earl, married Anne, daughter of John Lord
<g>Russell</g>, heir apparent to the Earl of Bedford; and, in 1642, was
created Marquess of Worcester. And this brings us down to the period,
when the family fortunes--like the fortress they inhabited--were
destined to undergo a lamentable change.
As the civil commotions increased, the Marquess fortified his castle of
<g>Raglan</g>, and there entertained his Sovereign with unbounded magnificence.
Such were his unlimited sacrifices to the royal cause, that the king,
fearing lest the garrison stores should become exhausted by his numerous
suite, offered to invest him with powers to exact supplies from the
neighbouring country. But with great magnanimity Worcester replied--“I
humbly thank your Majesty; but my castle would not long stand, if it
leant upon the country. I had rather myself be brought to a morsel of
bread, than see one morsel wrung from the poor to entertain your
Majesty.” But of this more fully when we describe the royal visit and
the <g>Siege</g>.
From these brief introductory notices of the lives and services of the
primitive lords of Raglan, we proceed to give a few sketches of life, as
it generally passed in the retirement of their own domains, in the midst
of their friends and retainers at Raglan Castle.
<g>Baronial Life.</g>--Of the expenses of a nobleman’s family and household in
the olden time, some idea may be formed by adverting to the facts
adduced by writers of the day. In a letter from the Earl of Shrewsbury,
who had the custody of Mary of Scotland, to the Marquis of Winchester,
and Sir Walter Mildmay, it is said--“May it please you to understand,
that whereas I have had a certain ordinary allowance of <g>wine</g>, amongst
other noblemen, for expenses in my household, without impost: the
charges daily that I do now sustain, and have done all this year past,
well known by reason of the Queen of Scots, are so great therein, as I
am compelled to be now a suitor unto you, that you will please to have a
friendly consideration, unto the necessity of my large expenses. Truly
_two tuns in a month_ have not hitherto sufficed ordinarily; besides
that which is sacrificed at times for her bathings, and such like use;
which seeing I cannot by any means conveniently diminish, my earnest
trust and desire is, that you will now consider me with such _larger_
proportion in this case, as shall seem good unto your friendly wisdoms,
even as I shall think myself much beholden for the same. And so I commit
you unto God. From Tetbury Castle, this 15 of January, 1569. Your
assured friend to my power.--G. SHREWSBURY.”[211]
“This passage,” Mr. Lodge observes, “will serve to correct a vulgar
error, relating to the consumption of wine in those days, which, instead
of being less, appears to have been--at least in the houses of the
great--even more considerable than that of the present time. The good
people who tell us that Queen Elizabeth’s maids of honour breakfasted on
roast beef, generally add, that wine was then used in England as a
medicine, for it was sold only by apothecaries. The latter assertion,
though founded on a fact, seems to have led to a mistake in the former;
for the word apothecary [from the Greek αποθήχη, _a repositorium_] is
applicable to any shopkeeper, or warehouseman, and was probably once
used in that general sense.”[212] In the retinues and domestic
attendance[213] of the nobles of this period, everything proclaimed that
the era of feudal authority and magnificence had departed. Accordingly,
when the civil wars had commenced, no peer, however wealthy or high in
rank, could drag after him a regiment, or even a company, of unwilling
vassals to the field. On the contrary, the meanest hind was free to
choose between king and parliament. Something, however, of the mere pomp
of feudalism was still maintained in the domestic establishments of the
nobility and wealthier gentry. “The father of John Evelyn, when he was
sheriff of the counties of Surrey and Sussex,[214] had _a hundred and
sixteen servants, in liveries of green satin doublets_, besides several
gentlemen and persons of quality, who waited upon him, dressed in the
same garb.”
One of the largest, if not the very largest, of English establishments
ever maintained by a subject, was that of the Lord Treasurer, the Earl
of Dorset,[215] heir of the Lord Buckhurst, and well-known poet of the
court. It consisted of _two hundred and twenty servants_, besides
workmen attached to the house, and others that were hired occasionally.
The chief servants of the nobility--so they were called, but they were
rather followers or clients--were still the younger sons of respectable,
or even noble families, who attached themselves to the fortunes of a
powerful patron, and served him either in court or military affairs,
for which they were allowed separate retinues in men and horses, with
gratuities in money, and promises of promotion.[216] The progress of
improvement that had banished minstrels, jugglers, and tumblers, from
princely establishments, had naturally introduced the drama in their
room; and, accordingly, we sometimes find a company of actors classed
among the servants of the chief noblemen, as well as a family physician,
or even a whole band. <g>A steward</g>, distinguished by a velvet jacket, and a
gold chain about his neck, presided as marshal of the household, and
next to him was the clerk of the kitchen. But these cumbrous appendages
were daily lessening, as domestic comfort came to be better understood.
This improvement, however, had commenced still earlier among those of
less rank and pretension. All who had their fortune still to seek in the
court, or in the army, and all who repaired to the metropolis in quest
of pleasure, found, so early as the time of Elizabeth, that the bustle
and the scramble of new and stirring times, made a numerous train of
attendants an uncomfortable appendage. The gallant, and the courtier,
therefore, like Sir John Falstaff, studied “French thrift,” and
contented himself with a single “skirted page,” who walked behind him
carrying his cloak and rapier.[217]
In consequence of the extravagant living introduced during this period,
the spendthrift gentleman often sank into the serving-man, as we may see
from the frequent recurrence of such a transformation in the old plays.
When servants were out of place--as we learn from the same authentic
pictures of the real life of the times--they sometimes repaired to St.
Paul’s Churchyard, the great place of public lounge, and there stood
against the pillars, holding before them a written placard, stating
their peculiar qualifications, and their desire of employment.[218]
“But whatever retrenchment,” observes the same author, “might be making
in the household expenditure by a diminished attendance, it was more
than counterbalanced by an extravagance in dress, and personal ornament,
that had now become an absolute frenzy.” It is said that King <g>James</g>
almost daily figured in a new suit, a humour that soon became prevalent
among his courtiers. Still more generally influential than his own
example was that of his several handsome favourites, all of whom having
been indebted for the royal favour merely to their personal attractions,
spared no pains nor cost to give those natural advantages their full
effect.[219]
When Buckingham was sent ambassador to France, to bring the Princess
Henrietta to England, he provided for this important mission a suit of
white uncut velvet and a cloak, both set all over with diamonds, valued
at eighty thousand pounds, besides a feather made of great diamonds. His
sword, girdle, hatband, and spurs, were also set thick with diamonds.
Another suit which he prepared for the same occasion, was of purple
satin, embroidered all over with pearls,[220] and valued at twenty
thousand pounds. In addition to these, he had twenty other dresses of
great richness. As a throng of nobles and gentlemen attended him, we may
conceive how their estates must have been impoverished by the purchase
of chains of gold, ropes of pearl, and splendid dresses, befitting the
retinue of such an ambassador. Even a court festival, of the time of
James the First, must have made a perilous inroad upon a year’s amount
of the largest income. Thus, at the marriage of the Princess Elizabeth
to the Palatine, Lady Wotton wore a gown profusely ornamented with
embroidery, that cost _fifty_ pounds a yard; and Lord Montague spent
_fifteen_ hundred pounds on the dresses of his two daughters, that they
might be fit to appear at court on the same occasion.[221]
The following letter--which we quote from a work of great merit and
research--unfolds much of the domestic ‘economy’ and habits of a family
of distinction during this reign. It is addressed to William, second
Lord <g>Compton</g>, by his wife, soon after their marriage:--
“<g>My Sweet Life</g>--Now I have declared to you my mind for the settling of
your state, I suppose that it were best for me to think and consider
within myself what allowance were meetest for me. I pray and beseech you
to grant to me, your most kind and loving wife, the sum of £2,600,
quarterly to be paid. Also, I would, besides that allowance, have £600,
quarterly to be paid, for the performance of charitable works; and these
things I would not, neither will be, accountable for. Also, I will have
three horses for my own saddle, that none shall dare to lend or borrow:
none lend but I; none borrow but you. Also, I would have two
gentlewomen, lest one should be sick, or have some other let. Also,
believe it, it is an undecent thing for a gentlewoman to stand mumping
alone, when God hath blessed their lord and lady with a large estate.
“<g>Also</g>, when I ride a hunting or a hawking, or travel from one house to
another, I will have them attending; so for either of these said women,
I must and will have for either of them a horse. Also, I will have six
or eight gentlemen; and I will have my two coaches, one lined with
velvet to myself, and four very fair horses; and a coach for my women,
lined with cloth and laced with gold; otherwise with scarlet, and laced
with silver; with four good horses. Also, I will have two coachmen, one
for my own coach, the other for my women.
“<g>Also</g>, at any time when I travel, I will be allowed not only _caroches_
and spare horses for me and my women; but I will have such carriages as
shall be fitting for all; orderly, not pestering my things with my
women’s; nor theirs with either chambermaids; nor theirs with washing
maids.
“<g>Also</g>, for laundresses, when I travel, I will have them sent away before
with the carriage, to see all safe. And the chambermaids I will have go
before, that the chamber may be ready, sweet, and clean. Also, for that
it is indecent to crowd up myself with my gentleman-usher in my coach, I
will have him to have a convenient horse, to attend me either in city or
country. And I must have two footmen. And my desire is that you defray
all the charges for me.
“<g>And</g> for myself, besides my yearly allowance, 1 would have twenty gowns
of apparel, six of them excellent good ones, eight of them for the
country, and six other of them _very_ excellent good ones. Also, I would
have, to put in my purse, £2,000 and £200, and so you to pay my debts.
Also, I would have £6,000 to buy me jewels, and £4,000 to buy me a pearl
chain. Now, seeing I have been, and am, so reasonable unto you, I pray
you do find my children apparel and their schooling; and all my
servants, men and women, their wages.
“<g>Also</g>, I will have all my houses furnished, and my lodging-chambers to
be suited with all such furniture as is fit; as beds, stools, chairs,
suitable cushions, carpets, silver warming-pans, cupboards of plate,
fair hangings, and such like. So, for my drawing-chambers, in all
houses, I will have them delicately furnished, both with hangings,
couch, canopy, glass, carpet, chairs, cushions, and all things thereto
belonging.
“<g>Also</g>, my desire is that you would pay your debts, build up Ashley
House, and purchase lands: and lend no money, as you love God, to my
Lord Chamberlain, who would have all--perhaps your life--from you.... So
now that I have declared unto you what I _would_ have, and what it is
that I _would not_ have, I pray you, when you be an earl, to allow me
£2,000 more than I now desire, and double attendance.”[222]
Prodigality in feasting and riotous living soon became as conspicuous as
extravagance with regard to dress. In proof whereof, we may mention the
ante-suppers of the epicurean Earl of Carlisle. Weldon informs us, that
he gave a banquet to the French ambassador at Essex House, where fish of
such huge size were served up, and which had been brought all the way
from Russia, that no dishes in England could hold them, until several
were made for the express purpose. The household expenditure of James
the First was twice as much as that of his predecessor, amounting to a
hundred thousand pounds annually.[223]
<g>Country Life.</g>--While such were the habits of the courtiers, the country
aristocracy still followed that kind of life so much familiarized to our
minds by the descriptions in the old songs and plays of “the golden days
of good Queen Bess.” The rural knight, or squire, inhabited a huge
building--half house, half castle--crowded with servants in homespun
blue coats, many of whom were only serviceable in filling up the blank
spaces of the mansion; but as these had been born in his <g>Worship’s</g>
service, it was held as a matter of course that they should live and die
in it.
“The family rose at daybreak, and first of all assembled at prayers,
which were read by the family chaplain. Then came breakfast; after which
the master of the household and his sons got into their saddles, and
went off to hunt the deer, followed by some score of mounted attendants;
while the lady and her daughters superintended the dairy, or the
buttery, prescribed the day’s task for the spinning-wheels, dealt out
bread and meat at the gate to the poor, and concocted all manner of
simples for the sick and infirm of the village. If leisure still
remained, the making of confections and preserves was a never-failing
resource; independently of spinning and sewing, or perhaps embroidering
some battle or hunting piece, which had been commenced by the housewives
of a preceding generation.”
At noon dinner was served up in the <g>Great Hall</g>, the walls of which were
plentifully adorned with stags’ horns, casques, antique brands, and
calivers. The noisy dinner-bell, that sent the note of warning over the
country, gave also a universal invitation and welcome to the hospitable
board; and after dinner sack, or home-brewed ‘October,’ occupied the
time until sunset, when the hour of retiring to rest was at hand.
Such was the ordinary history of a day in the country mansion. When the
weather prevented out-door recreation or employment, the family library,
containing some six or eight tomes, that had perhaps issued from the
press of Caxton, or Wynkyn de Worde, was in requisition; and, if the
members of the family could read, they might while away the hours in
perusing these volumes for the twentieth time. In this fashion, they
derived their knowledge of religion from the Bible, and the “Practice of
Piety;” their Protestantism and horror of Popery from “Fox’s Acts and
Monuments;” their chivalrous lore from “Froissart’s Chronicles,” or,
perchance, the “Merry Gests of Robin Hood;” their historical erudition
from “Hall” or “Hollingshed;” and their morality and sentiments from
“the Seven Wise Masters,” or the “Seven Champions of Christendom.”[224]
<g>Holidays.</g>--In such a state of life the set holidays were glorious eras;
the anticipation, the enjoyment, the remembrance of a single Christmas
or birthday, furnished matter for a whole month of happiness. On such an
occasion the lord of the manor was more than a king, as he proceeded
with his family through the crowds of assembled peasants, to witness
their games of merriment, and feats of agility or strength; for his
smile inspired the competitors with double strength or swiftness; while
the prize acquired a tenfold value because it was he who bestowed it. At
evening, his bounty was expressed by oxen roasted whole, and puncheons
of mighty ale, with which he feasted the crowd; while his house was
thrown open to the throng of his more immediate acquaintances and
dependents. After the feast, his hall was cleared for dancing; three
fiddlers and a piper struck up; and as the “mirth and fun grew fast and
furious,” the strong oaken floor was battered and ploughed in all
directions by the hobnailed shoes of those who danced with all their
might, and with all their hearts.[225]
<g>Such</g> was the life of an old country gentleman when <g>James</g> succeeded to
the crown of England. But these habits, the last relics of the
simplicity of the olden times, did not long survive that event. Tidings
of the gay doings at court, and the wonderful good fortune of the royal
favourites, reached the ears of the aristocratic rustics; and from that
moment rural occupations and village maypoles lost their charm. The
young were impatient to repair to the metropolis; and the old were
obliged to yield to the prevailing fashion. With all the fierce
impetuosity of novices, rural esquires, and well-dowried country widows,
rushed into the pleasures and excesses of a town life; and thus, with a
rapidity hitherto unknown in England, and at which moralists became
giddy, ancient manners were soon abandoned; fortunes, that had
accumulated for generations, vanished; the hereditary estates of
centuries became the property of men of yesterday; and the time-honoured
names of some of the most ancient families disappeared from the scroll
of English heraldry, and soon ceased to be remembered.[226]
When <g>Charles</g> came to the throne, “the coldness of his character and his
decorous habits discountenanced those coarse and profligate excesses;
and the courtiers endeavoured to conform to something like the rules of
external decency. A general sobriety of demeanour succeeded.” “But, as
the stern ascetic Puritans grew into power, and advanced to the
destruction of the monarchy with prayer and fasting, the court party
soon became eager to distinguish themselves by an entirely opposite
behaviour. All the excesses of the former reign were resumed; and
Charles found himself unable to restrain, or even to rebuke, his
adherents, who swore, drank, brawled, and intrigued, to show their
hatred of the enemy, and their devotedness to the royal cause.”[227]
[Illustration]
<g>Life at Raglan.</g>[228]--Down to this eventful period, the castellated
mansion of Raglan had continued to bask in the sunshine of prosperity.
Its halls were frequented by the elite of rank and station, and by many
of that intellectual aristocracy whose genius threw so much lustre upon
that and the preceding reign. The Earl, whose revenues were princely,
lived in a style becoming the representative of an illustrious race; and
while he observed great state, and gave sumptuous banquets to the
magnates of the land, he did not neglect the humble votaries of the
Muse.
<g>Household.</g>--The following record is taken from a “List of the Household
and method of living at Raglan Castle,” previous to the visit of <g>Charles</g>
the First:--
“At eleven o’clock in the forenoon the castle gates were shut, and the
tables laid--two in the dining-room; three in the hall; one in Mrs.
Watson’s apartment, where the chaplains eat (Sir Toby Matthews being the
first); and two in the housekeeper’s room for the ladies’ women.
“<g>First.--The Earl</g> entered the dining-room, attended by his gentlemen. As
soon as he was seated, Sir Ralph Blackstone, steward of the house,
retired. The comptroller, Mr. Holland, attended with his staff, as did
the sewer, Mr. Blackburne; the daily waiters, Mr. Clough, Mr. Selby, Mr.
Scudamore; and many gentlemen’s sons, with estates from two hundred to
seven hundred pounds a year, who were bred up in the castle; my lady’s
gentlemen of the chamber, Mr. Morgan and Mr. Fox. At the first table sat
the noble family, and such of the nobility as came there.
“<g>Second.</g>--At the second table in the dining-room sat knights and
honourable gentlemen attended by footmen.
“<g>Hall.</g>--In the hall, at the first table, sat Sir Ralph Blackstone,
steward; the comptroller, Mr. Holland; the secretary; the master of the
horse, Mr. Dolowar; the master of the fish-ponds, Mr. Andrews; my Lord
Herbert’s preceptor, Mr. Adams; with such gentlemen as came there under
the degree of a knight, attended by footmen, and plentifully served with
wine.
“<g>Second Hall.</g>--At the second table in the hall--served from my lord’s
table, and with other hot meats--sat the sewer, with the gentlemen
waiters and pages, to the number of twenty-four.
“<g>Third.</g>--At the third table, in the hall, sat the clerk of the kitchen,
with the yeomen officers of the house, two grooms of the chamber and
others.
“<g>Other Officers</g> of the household were--chief auditor, Mr. Smith; clerk
of the accounts, George Whithorn; purveyor of the castle, Mr. Salisbury;
ushers of the hall, Mr. Moyle and Mr. Cooke; the closet-keeper;
gentleman of the chapel, Mr. Davies; keeper of the records; master of
the wardrobe; master of the armoury; master-grooms of the stable for the
war horses, twelve; master of the hounds; master falconer; porter, and
his man; two butchers; two keepers of the home park; two keepers of the
red deer park; footmen, grooms, and other menial servants to the number
of one hundred and fifty. Some of the footmen were brewers and bakers.
“<g>Out-officers</g> were--the steward of Raglan, William Jones, Esq.; the
governor of Chepstow Castle, Sir Nicholas Kemys, Bart.;[229] housekeeper
of Worcester House, in London; James Redman, Esq.; thirteen bailiffs;
two counsel for the bailiffs to have recourse to; solicitor, Mr. John
Smith.”[230]
Among other distinguished individuals, who at this time filled offices
in the household of Raglan, was the Earl’s--and soon afterwards the
Marquess’s--chaplain, Dr. Thomas Bayly; to whom we owe those amusing
“Apophthegms of the Marquess of Worcester,” published at the
Restoration, and from which we take the following farce, in the
chaplain’s own words, as presenting a characteristic picture of the
times, when the Castle had become the scene of extraordinary
festivity:--
“I cannot tell whether it was upon the marriage of my Lord Edward
Herbert with the Earl Caernarvon’s sister, or the Lord Montague with the
Marquis of Worcester’s daughter, that there happened this merrie
passage, or mock wedding, as an echo to the voices that were heard in
Hymeneus’ chappel, between those lovely couple--think which you
please--who had newly left being wholly themselves, by being half of
each other; viz., one of those two pair of lovers had no sooner united
two hearts into one, and had seated themselves by one of the too many
proprieties belonging unto the honourable state of matrimony, viz. the
boord; but this Tom Deputy, an old bachelour, chanced to cast his eye
upon a pretty piece of waiting-woman, one of the appurtenances to this
honourable bride. Her, this jovial Tom, having whetted his wit by the
side of the marriage-bowle, fixes upon, being enabled sufficiently
thereby to follow any humour, as a fit subject to make their ladiships
some sport; which happened to be so suitable to the occasion, and so
well performed, that it soon captivated the cares also of all the
masculine nobility.
“Thus encountering the faire bride--‘Madam, you have the prettiest piece
of necessity yonder, at the side-table, that I know not how any man can
be without a wife that may have her for asking. Madam, will you give her
me? I protest I will marry her, and fancy myself to be a lord, and
herself a lady. “My mind to me a kingdom is;” which shall make her a
sufficient joynture.’
“‘Tom, Tom,’ said the Marquess, ‘such men as you and I, whose joynts are
enfeebled with the strokes of many years, must not think to winne young
maides, by promising to make them joyntures of the mind. But will you
make her deputy of Deputy Hall? and landlady of all the land that is
belonging to it? and Mrs. of all the stock that is upon the land, and
goods that is within the house? Answer me this, and then you shall heare
what my daughter and her woman will say unto you.’
“‘With all my heart,’ said Tom; ‘and all the hoggs and poultry that is
about the house to boote; and she shall sleep upon six feather beds.’
“‘Why, then, it shall be a match,’ said the lady, ‘with all my heart.’
“‘Give me your hand, madam,’ sayes Deputy; ‘I will have her, if there be
no more evills in the world.’ And presently he makes his addresses to
the pritty little gentlewoman of the said table; who had heard all the
discourse, and was persuaded, then, upon his approach, to answer his
humour with a condescention at the first word, and informed that he was
an old rich bachelor; he accosting her after this manner--‘This pritty
moppit, now thy lady hath given her consent that I shall have thee, if
thou saist so too, we’ll be married as soon as they.’
“‘With all my heart, and thank you too,’ said the young gentlewoman.
“‘By my troth, a match,’ said he; ‘give me thy hand--‘tis done. I’ll
break such a jest this day as I never broke in my life.’
“‘Aye; but do not break your promise,’ said the gentlewoman.
“‘What! before all this company?’ said Deputy; ‘that were a shame.’
“Up he goes again to the lady, and tells her that they were agreed. My
lady drank to him upon the same condition. He pledged her, and wished
the wine might be his poison if he did not marry her after dinner. The
lady, willing to prefer her woman to such a fortune, held him to his
word, and required performance of his promise, giving her many and high
commendations.
“Tom went not from any part of his promise, onely the time excepted; and
that in regard he meant to buy himself some wedding clothes. The
Marquess, willing to remove that obstacle, told him that he thought
_his_ clothes would fit him; and bid him goe unto his wardrope, and take
what he had a mind to. ‘Give me your key,’ said Tom. It was delivered
unto him. Up went he, and then came down with his bever hat, sattin
cloke, laid with plush, dawb’d with a gold and silver lace, suite of the
same, silk stockings, with roses and garters suitable, inside and
outside, capope, all as brave as if he carried a lordship on his back.
“The lady-bride then takes her woman aside, and dresses her in one of
her richest and newest gownes--that should have made every day of that
week sensible of an exchange--with all things answerable thereunto; not
without some store of slight jewels; and brings her down, as glorious as
the morne, that breaks from the eastern hill, and chases night away.
“They look upon one another, and all upon them both. Tom cries out, ‘I
had best be in good earnest, my lady.’ Said my lady, ‘I thought you had
been in sober sadness.’ ‘Neither, madam,’ said the new bridegroome.
‘But, old Tom, I hope,’ said the lady, ‘you will not make me take all
this paines for nothing?’ No, by no means,’ saith he; ‘if ever we
repent, we will sell our fine cloathes and buy cattle! It is better
being a lord for a week, than a slave for ever. Come thy wayes,’ quoth
he--
‘How happy is the wooing
That is not long a doing!’
“Well--married they were, in the greatest pomp and ceremony; and the
Queen of Beauty took delight in leading the eyes of the vulgar, which by
this time were altogether fixed on the ladye of the May. Tom acted his
scene of mirth in the hall--which proved to be a thing of that
convenience, as if it had been an act of some set policie, to keep the
crowd out of the parlour that the masquers might have roome enough to
dance in.
“At last, when the masque was ended, and time had brought in supper, the
‘Cushine’ led the dance, out of the parlour into the hall, and saluted
the old-new-made bridegroome and his lady, leading them into the
parlour, to a table which was furnished with the same allowance that was
allotted for all the nobles, where they were soon forced to sit down
first--Tom taking upon him as much good cheer as they could give him.
“In fine, supper being ended, the Marquess of Worcester asked the
Lady-bride, ‘If she had a hundred pounds about her?’ She answered, ‘No,
my lord, but I can send for as much.’ ‘I pray do,’ said the Marquess;
‘but it must be all in gold.’ She sent for it, and presented it to her
father; who pulled out another purse of an hundred pieces, and put the
two hundred pieces in the bason, saying, ‘Madam, if you do not give
earnest, Deputy will tell you in the morning, that he married your woman
but in jest.’ Whereupon some gave fifty, others forty; some gave twenty,
others ten; the least gave five gold pieces, who sat at the table--in
all, £700. The apparel and other gifts, amounting to no lesse a value
than one thousand pounds; which so transported the old man, that he
protested, ‘that now he was in the humour, he would marry all the
waiting gentlewomen they had; one every day in the week, as long as the
wedding lasted.’ My Lord Marquess replied, ‘Ay, but Tom, you should have
added, “at this rate.”’...
“Not to be too tedious, the man--what with bounty, and what with that
which was as free to every man, as was their purses unto him, which was
good wine--the man was not himself when he should have gone to bed.
Which being related to my lord, his lordship took occasion to tell the
company the story of the beggar, who was made believe he did but dreame
of the happiness which really happened; and, thereupon, the marquess was
desirous to make experiment whether it could be related in the person of
old Thomas. In order whereto, he gave command that my friend Thomas
should be disrobed of his neat wedding garment, the rest of his fine
clothes taken from him, and himself carried unto his old lodging in the
porter’s lodge; and his wife to respite the solemnisation of the
marriage, until his comportment should deserve so faire an
admission--the which was done accordingly.
“The next morning made the experiment to answer the height of all their
expectations; for news was brought unto the Marquess--all the rest of
the lords and ladies standing by--that Tom took all yesterday’s work but
for a dream; or, at least, seemed to do so to humour the fancy.... But I
should be endlesse,” says Bayly, “if I should relate unto you the sport
that this fellow made.
“To conclude: The Marquess called them both before him, and delivered
unto them the money, with many good exhortations to them both, thus
moralizing upon the premises”--in a strain very characteristic of that
day:--
“‘That which was first in intention, is oftentimes, both with God and
man, the last in execution. As, for example, God had, before all worlds,
determined to show his love for mankind, by wedding his onely Sonne to
his Church; so
[Illustration: _The Paved Stone Court._