The Palace of the Bishop of Broadminster is not, of course, among the
buildings of the Close. It stands in its own grounds about two miles
away, and it bears tokens of having been built within the last quarter
of a century. It did not start life as a palace, but as the country
house of a business man in a bustling town. The story of how it became
the Palace is a curious one.
The original Palace was a big square barrack of a place, costing a great
deal to keep up and giving no adequate return for its upkeep. It was a
survival of the days when a bishop was expected to maintain a retinue of
servants and never to go out for a quiet drive unless four horses were
harnessed to the coach. The stables were built to accommodate twenty-two
horses: it seemed to be understood that no self-respecting bishop could
do with less, so long-lived are the Church traditions of the Middle
Ages; and the servant retinue was expected to be maintained in the same
proportion. The consequence was that the revenues of the diocese were
quite insufficient to do more than keep up the place; they left nothing
over for the poor Bishop himself, who could do very well with a 15 h.p.
motor and a garage 25' x 15', a single chauffeur, and a gardener, instead
of six horses, a coachman, an under-coachman, four grooms, and nine
gardeners.
Every now and again the question of the requirements of the Palace as
opposed to the requirements of the Bishop was cropping up, and
certain newspapers published letters from ignorant and irresponsible
correspondents in which the phrases “bloated revenues,” “princely
prelates,” “modern Wolseys,” and the like recurred, particular emphasis
being laid upon the fact that his lordship kept no fewer than
eleven gardeners--a very moderate exaggeration--for his own personal
gratification as a horticulturist. And all this was very harassing for
the poor Bishop.
Now in the years when the upkeep of both the Bishop and the Palace was
becoming a serious problem, there was living in a bustling manufacturing
town a hundred miles from Broadminster a quiet little business man named
Robinson. He had begun life in a rather small way; but before he was
forty, having no expensive tastes and being engaged in a lucrative
business, he had made a fortune--not, of course, such a fortune as may
be made in the United States in these days, but still a fortune for an
English provincial town. It so happened that he lodged with two maiden
sisters slightly older than himself, and when he was about fifty he
asked the elder to marry him. She agreed, and married they were.
After living a year or two in the house in which he had lodged they
started a one-horse brougham, and a little later Mrs. Robinson had a
fancy to live in the country; and as her husband invariably thought as
she did on every subject, he at once set about building a house that
would always be worth (his architect assured him) the money he spent
upon it. Mrs. Robinson being a pious woman and liking the Cathedral
service, the site of the house should be, they determined, within easy
reach of Broadminster.
It was an admirable house when it was finished, and the three-acre
garden could easily be managed by one man and a boy. This was in the
days when a financial episode, known as the brewery boom, was beginning
to be felt throughout the country, and it was known that Mr. Robinson
had made as much in a week out of brewery shares as paid for the
house he had built and the gardens that had been laid out for him by
a competent landscape architect. And on the first morning that he
breakfasted in their new home he presented his wife with the title-deeds
of the whole, and made over the furniture to her as well.
For five years they lived there in great happiness, and it was known
that they were devoted to each other; but before they entered on their
sixth year Mrs. Robinson died, and her husband found that she had made
a will leaving the house and grounds and furniture to the Church
authorities--whoever they were--for the use of the existing Bishop of
Broadminster and his successors for ever.
It appeared that Mrs. Robinson had become aware of the Palace
difficulty, and made up her mind that she should do her best to solve
the question of providing a reasonable residence for the Bishop in place
of that insatiable monstrous barrack which he had been compelled to
occupy, and upon which he was forced to spend every penny of his income.
Although the will rather startled Mr. Robinson--for his wife had not
confided in him that it was her intention to provide for the Bishop
and his successors--he had no fault to find with it. He confessed to
a friend that his dear wife had solved a question that might have
perplexed himself; for he had no relative to whom he might reasonably be
expected to leave the place.
But before many days had passed he received a message from the
ecclesiastical solicitors begging him to have the goodness to let them
know at his convenience when it would suit him to give their clients
possession of the house: and then he was really startled. A visit to his
own solicitor made him aware of the fact that no provision had been made
in his wife's will for allowing him to continue residing in the house or
using the furniture therein--that he was, in fact, a trespasser in the
house that he had built for himself!
A little thought, however, convinced him that as soon as the facts
of the case became known to the Church authorities there would be no
trouble in obtaining their consent to his remaining on in the house; but
it soon appeared that he had been rather too sanguine on this point.
It was explained to him that the authorities were unfortunately left
without any option in the matter, and possession of the place must be
given to them within three months, rent for this period to be paid by
him at a rate that might be agreed between his solicitor and themselves.
They were ecclesiastically courteous, but legally firm, and so Mr.
Robinson had to leave the house on which he had spent many hours
of loving and intelligent thought the gardens to which he had given
particular attention while they were being laid out, and the furniture
which he had selected piece by piece from the best makers.
He was allowed to take away his own clothes, however, and he began to
feel that this was a concession.
He went to Lausanne and died there a few years later, leaving about a
hundred thousand pounds to various charities, but none of them having
any connection with Broadminster.
Before the end of the year in which the property was acquired by the
Church it became the Palace, Broadminster: previously it had been called
Leighside Hall.
And from that day it is understood that the Bishop has been saving money
to make up for the years which the early locust abode of his had eaten.