at Belvoir, there were generally killed and consumed every year, at
Haddon, between 30 and 40 beeves, between 400 and 500 sheep, and 8 or
10 swine.”
[15] A romantic tradition is still current in the vicinity of Haddon,
relative to the courtship and marriage of Mr. Manners (afterwards Sir
John) with the younger co-heiress of Vernon. The tradition purports
that the lover (who was, perhaps, thirty years of age) having conceived
an attachment for Miss Vernon, a beautiful girl of eighteen, dwelt
for some time in the woods of Haddon as an outlaw, or, rather, in the
dress of a gamekeeper (probably with the popular reputation of being
an outlawed man), for the purpose of concealment, and in order to
facilitate secret interviews with his mistress; and that he at length
succeeded in persuading the young lady to elope with him during the
festivities of a masked ball, given by Sir G. Vernon in honour of the
marriage of his eldest daughter, Margaret, with Sir Thomas Stanley, a
younger son of the Earl of Derby.
[16] According to Walpole, “Anecdotes of Painting,” there is a
tradition in the family of Cavendish, that a fortune-teller had told
this imperious lady that “she should not die while she was building:
accordingly, she bestowed a great deal of the wealth she had obtained
from three of her four husbands in erecting large seats at Hardwicke,
Chatsworth, Bolsover and Oldcote, and, I think, at Worksop; and died in
a hard frost, when the workmen could not labour.”
[17] Hardwicke was built subsequently to the death of Mary; but there
is little doubt that the room called “The Queen’s Room,” in memory
of the unhappy lady, was furnished with the bed and other furniture
removed thither from Chatsworth, where she was for some time a
prisoner. Probably the hangings said to have been wrought by her were
actually the work of her hands; needlework was unquestionably one of
the modes by which she sought to solace her dismal confinement. Mr.
White, writing to Sir William Cecil, describes an interview he had with
her at Tutbury Castle, in 1568: “She sayd that all day she wrought with
her nydill and that the diversity of the colours made her work seem
less tedious, and contynued so long at it, till very payne made her to
give over.”
[18] The curious in such matters may find further information on this
head in the “Churchman’s Magazine” of 1801; and in the tenth volume of
Bowles’ edition of Pope’s Works, 1806.
[19] Lord Braybrooke’s “History of Audley End;” to which copious volume
we are principally indebted for our notices of the history of the house
and its occupants.
[20] Evelyn records, in his “Diary,” his visit thus:--“From Cambridge,
on August 31, 1654, we went to Audley End, and spent some time in
seeing that goodly palace, built by Howard, Earl of Suffolk, once
Lord Treasurer. It is a mixt fabric, ’twixt ancient and modern, but
observable for its being completely finished; and it is one of the
stateliest palaces of the kingdom. It consists of two courts, the first
very large, winged with cloisters. The front hath a double entrance;
the hall is faire, but somewhat too small for so august a pile; the
kitchen is very large, as are the cellars, arched with stone, very
neate, and well disposed. These offices are joyned by a wing out of the
way very handsomely. The gallery is the most cheerful, and, I think,
one of the best in England; a faire dining-roome, and the rest of the
lodgings answearable, with a pretty chapel. The gardens are not in
order, though well inclosed; it has also a bowling alley, and a nobly
walled, wooded, and watered park. The river glides before the palace,
to which is an avenue of lime-trees, but all this is much diminished by
its being placed in an obscure bottom. For the rest it is a perfectly
uniform structure, and shews without like a diadem, by the decoration
of the cupolas and other ornaments on the pavilions. Instead of
railings and balusters, there is a bordure of capital letters, as was
lately, also, in Suffolke house.”
[21] It has recently been pulled down.
[22] Lord Braybrooke’s “History of Audley End.”
[23] The story of St. Osyth, as given in an old tract, entitled
“Purgatory Proved by Miracles,” is printed by Wright in his History of
Essex:--“St. Ositha was daughter of a Mercian prince named Frithwald,
and of Wilterburga, daughter of Pende, king of the Mercians. She was
bred up in great piety; and through her parents’ authority, became
wife to Sighere, companion to St. Seb, in the kingdom of East Angles.
But preferring the love of a heavenly bridegroom before the embraces
of a king, her husband complied with her devotion; and, moreover, not
only permitted her to consecrate herself to our Lord, but bestowed on
her a village, situated near the sea, called Chic, where, building a
monastery, she enclosed herself, and after she had spent some time in
the service of God, it happened that a troop of Danish pirates landed
there; who, going out of their ships, wasted and burned the country
thereabout, using all manner of cruelty to the Christian inhabitants.
Then he who was the captain of that impious band, having learnt the
condition and religious life of the blessed virgin St. Ositha, began
by entreaties and presents to tempt her to idolatry; adding withal
threats of scourging, and other torments, if she refused to adore the
gods he worshipped. But the holy virgin, despising his flatteries, and
not fearing his threats, made small account of the torments attending
her. Whereupon the said captain, enraged at her constancy and scorn of
his idols, pronounced sentence of death against her, commanding her to
lay down her head to be cut off. And in the same place where the virgin
suffered martyrdom, a clear fountain broke forth, which cured several
kinds of diseases. As soon as her head was off, the body presently rose
up, and taking up the head in the hands, by the conduct of angels,
walked firmly the straight way to the church of the apostles St. Peter
and St. Paul, about a quarter of a mile distant from the place of her
suffering. And when it was come there, it knocked at the door with the
bloody hands, as desiring it might be opened, and thereon left marks of
blood. Having done this, it fell there down to the ground.”
[24] It appears that in the time of the Confessor a “De Berkeley”
possessed the adjoining manor and castle of Dursley; and his descendant
might probably have joined the Conqueror on, or immediately after, his
invasion, and thus retain the possessions until the domain was, during
the wars between Maud and Stephen, consigned to Henry, afterwards Henry
II. The gift to Robert Fitzhardinge is clear, and, occurring on the
very year of his accession to the throne, was doubtless intended by the
monarch to mark that event.
[25] The king had previously been treated with exceeding cruelty.
It is said that on his way to Berkeley his conductors, for greater
concealment of their captive, caused him to dismount from his horse
and a barber to shave his head and beard with cold water from a ditch,
telling him that “for once cold water must serve his purpose.” Covering
his face with his hands, the unhappy monarch wept, saying, “Woulde they
or noulde they, he woulde have warm water for his beard!” and to the
end that he might keep his promise, he began to shed tears plentifully.
This incident is related by Stowe on the authority of Thomas de Mori,
“a worshipfull knight that then lived, and wrote in the French tongue,
what he sawe with his eies or heard credily reported by them that sawe
and some that were actors.” Lord Berkeley was allowed 5_l._ per diem
for the monarch’s expenses during his imprisonment, and acquitted of
all participation in the murder; Gournay was subsequently arrested at
Marseilles and beheaded on shipboard, “it was supposed,” according to
Hume, “because some nobles and prelates in England were anxious to
prevent any discovery he might make of his accomplices.” Maltravers,
many years afterwards, sued for mercy and obtained it. The greatest
culprit seems to have escaped: Adam bishop of Hereford lent himself
to the schemes of Mortimer and the queen, and wrote as follows to the
knights who had the king in custody, “Edvardum occidere nolite timere
bonum est,” purposely omitting the punctuations, so that the passage
was capable of a double meaning, advising either to slay or spare the
royal prisoner, and supplying a safe exit for the writer out of any
difficulty that might subsequently arise.
[26] The following notes are extracted from Smith’s “Lives of the Lord
Berkeleys,” edited by Fosbrooke:--
“The accompt of William Aside, receiver to the Lord Berkeley,
accomptinge for a year from Mmass. anno 20 of Edward II. to the same
feast in the first of Edward III., sheweth that he received to this
lord’s use 700_l._ de camera scaccarii domini regis, out of the receipt
in the king’s exchequer, for the expences of the house of the king’s
father whilest he was at Berkeley; and hath in his said accompt an
allowance of 31_s._ 1_d._ paid by him to Sir Thomas de Gournay, sent
to Nottingham from Berkeley by the said Lord Berkeley to advertize the
queene and the king her sonne of the death of the late king his father
there. And 15th May the same year an allowance of 500_l._ more from the
kynge, paid him by John de Langton, keeper of the castle of Kerfilly,
for the same cause.
“The accompts of the reeves (stewards) of Hame and Alkington, and of
other manors of this lord’s, near Berkeley Castle, expressly shewe
what provisions and acates they sent from their severall granges and
manor-houses from the 5th day of Aprill, then being Palm Sunday, when
at supper time the kinge was first brought prisoner to Berkeley Castle,
untill his death there the 21st September following.
“And the accompt of this said lord’s receiver for the yeare following,
in 2d Edward III., sheweth what he payd for dyinge of the white canvas
into black, for coveringe of the chariot wherein the bodye of the king
was carryed from Berkeley Castle to Gloucester; what the cords, the
hors-collers, the traces, and other necessaries particularly cost,
used about the said chariot and conveyinge of his body thence to
Gloucester; for a silver vessell to put the king’s hart in 37_s._ 8_d._
(in uno vase argentes pro corde dicti Domini Regis patres reponend); in
oblations at several times in the chapple of the Castle for the kinges
soul, 21_d._; in expenses of the Lord Berkeley’s family going with the
kinges body from Berkeley unto Gloucester, 18_s._ 9_d._; and many like
particularities.”
[27] About this period the records of the Castle testify that “from
the manors of Ham and Cowley the following provisions were sent to
the clerk of the kitchen for one year:--17,000 eggs, 1008 pigeons, 91
capons, 192 hens, 288 ducks, 388 chickens, 80 hogs, 110 porkers, 84
pigs, 45 calves, 315 quarters of wheat.”
[28] In 1334 the retinue of the then Lord of Berkeley usually consisted
of twelve knights, each with two servants and a page; twenty-four
squires, each with one man and a page--making a total of 108 persons.
£ _s._ _d._
His expenditure for one year was 1309 14 6
He saved 1155 18 8
---------------
2465 13 2
A large sum for yearly income in those days.
His armour cost 11 8 11
A hawk 0 15 0
A falcon 1 15 0
[29] “The governor, Sir Charles Lucas, with three horses and arms, and
50_l._ in money. Each field-officer, two horses; foot-captains, one
horse; lieutenant and ensigns, sword but no horse; field-officers and
captains not to exceed 5_l._, soldiers not 5_s._ 16th October, Colonel
Barnes, on petition, nominated governor by the House of Commons.”
[30] In reference to this apartment Horace Walpole, in a letter to the
Rev. William Cole, dated 15th August, 1774, says:--“The room shewn
for the murder of Edward II. and the shrieks of an agonising king, I
verily believe to be genuine. It is a dismal chamber, almost at the
top of the house, quite detached, and to be approached only by a kind
of footbridge, and from that descends a large flight of steps, that
terminate on strong gates--exactly a _corps-de-garde_.”
[31] “Hatfield, called Haethfeld, in the Saxon times, from its
situation on a heath, was an ancient demesne of the Saxon kings, till
it was granted by Edgar, in the tenth century, to the abbey at Ely, in
Cambridgeshire. On the conversion of that foundation into a bishopric,
in the reign of Henry I., it became attached to the new see; and the
manor-house becoming a palace of the bishops, the town was thenceforth
distinguished by the appellation of Bishops’ Hatfield. Queen Elizabeth,
who had resided in the bishop’s palace some years before she came to
the crown, greatly admired the situation; and by virtue of the statute
which gave her the power of exchange, procured the alienation of this
manor from the then bishop of Ely, Richard Cox. James I., in the third
year of his reign, exchanged it for the house, manor, and park of
Theobald’s, with his minister, Robert Cecil, earl of Salisbury, whose
descendant, the Marquis of Salisbury, is the present owner.”
Notwithstanding Elizabeth’s regard for Hatfield, we cannot learn that
she often resided here after her accession to the throne.
[32] The lowest fortune of any gentleman in that noble corps is stated,
by one of its members, to have been no less than 4000_l._ a-year in
land; equal, probably, to 20,000_l._ a-year at the present time.
[33] Of this house--the house in which Oliver Cromwell was born--only
the site remains; a modern mansion having been erected upon it,
about thirty years ago, by a Mr. Rust, a banker of the town--upon
whose memory let the anathema rest. A wall of a cellar, which formed
part of the ancient dwelling, now alone exists. The chamber in which
the Protector “first drew breath” was a sight to which visitors ran
eagerly; and this, it would seem, so worried the soul of the rich
banker, that he commanded its removal, and with it as far as possible
every trace of a house to which tens of thousands would desire to make
a pilgrimage. Mr. Rust obtained the house--and the site, to which it
would seem he attached some value--so recently as the year 1810. Until
then it was in the possession of a Mr. Audley, a draper, who used to
show the room in which the Protector was born, “and sportively desire
it might be noticed that the devil was behind the door,” alluding to
a figure of Satan upon some old tapestry with which the walls were
hung. The ancient fabric was built of stone, with gothic windows and
projecting attics. The present dwelling is as ugly an example of modern
building as could well be seen.
[34] That Sir Oliver impaired his paternal estates by entertaining
James I. is very certain. It is probable that the king was a frequent
visitor to the hospitable knight, inasmuch as Royston, his Majesty’s
hunting seat, was in the neighbourhood. The king’s first visit, in
1603, on his progress to take possession of the English throne, was a
costly one. “His Highnesse and his followers,” according to Stow, “with
all comers, had such entertainment as was not the like in any place
before; there was such plentie and varietis of meates and diversitie
of wines, and the sellars open at any man’s pleasure.” It is stated,
indeed, that Sir Oliver’s entertainment was “a greater feast than had
ever been given to a king by a subject”--a fact to which his Majesty
himself testified; for on parting from the brave old knight, he is
reported to have addressed him, “Merry mon, thou hast treated me better
than ony ane syn I left Edinbro.”
[35] The present master of the school is the Rev. Mr. Fell, an
accomplished scholar, and an enlightened gentleman, by whom we were
guided about the various objects of interest in and around the
venerable Town, and whose courtesies and attentions it is our pleasant
duty to acknowledge.
[36] Upon a similar occasion, it is related that he paid a visit to
his godfather-uncle at Ramsay; the sturdy old Royalist was firm to the
monarchy; and although his nephew treated him with so much respect as
to decline wearing his hat in his presence, he seized all his plate
for the public service, and afterwards compelled him to give forty
saddle-horses, “by way of fine.” Subsequently, however, when the whole
estates of Sir Oliver were sequestrated by the Parliament, the remnant
was restored to him by the intervention of Oliver--“for whose sake the
sequestration was taken off.” Notwithstanding, the aged knight died in
extreme poverty, in 1655, at the age of 93, and, it is said, was buried
by night, “to prevent the seizure of his body by his creditors.”
[37] Over the entrance porch of the church at Godmanchester is a fine
example of that ancient religious emblem, the “lily-pot,” in which
is placed the miraculous rod of Joseph; in allusion to the old Roman
Catholic legend of his marriage with the Virgin. According to this
miraculous tale, the Virgin, who had spent her life in the service of
the Temple, was to be married to that man of the race of David who,
upon coming to the Temple bearing in his hand a rod, should be divinely
pointed out as her future husband, by the miraculous flowering of the
dry stick he carried, when offered at the altar to the High Priest.
Joseph’s rod put forth buds and flowers immediately it was offered, and
this miracle was a favourite subject with the early Catholic painters.
Raffaelle has left us a picture of this event, and Joseph is frequently
represented by other artists holding the rod with its flowers in his
hand. The lily-rod is also often placed in a pot in the windows of
in-door “Holy Family” scenes, similar to that which is placed upon the
apex of the door at Godmanchester, as delineated in our initial letter;
and which is a curious and unusually perfect example.
[38] On each side of the gate, upon projecting pillars, stand statues
of wild men, the size of life. Each holds a tree uprooted; they are
represented as covered with shaggy hair, wearing long beards and
mustachios, with no article of dress but a girdle round the waist.
These “Wodehouses,” or “Green Men,” for they were known by both names
in the olden time, were favourite characters with our ancestors--as
well in this country, as on the Continent. Froissart relates a
melancholy story of a masque of wild men, among whom was King Charles
VI. of France, which was performed at a marriage in 1392, when four
of the noble masquers were burnt to death, owing to the curiosity of
the King’s brother, who approached too near them with a lighted torch,
which set fire to their dresses, that were made of cloth, and covered
with pitch, upon which flax was fastened, to imitate shaggy hair. They
were very commonly displayed in court masques and public processions in
England. When King Henry VIII. kept his Christmas at Greenwich in the
fifth year of his reign, “a mount,” upon which sat the King and five
others, was drawn into the great Hall by “five wodehouses,” dressed
in skins, or rugs resembling skins, so as to appear like savages.
When Queen Elizabeth visited Kenilworth Castle, she was addressed by
the pert Gascoigne habited like a savage, covered with ivy, holding
in one of his hands an oaken plant torn up by the roots. They were
frequently used to clear the way in processions, when the clubs were
filled with fireworks. When Anne Bullen was conveyed upon the water
from Greenwich to London in 1533, “there went before the Lord Mayor’s
barge,” says Hall, “a foyste (a barge or pinnace propelled by rowers)
full of ordnance, in which foyste was a great red dragon, continually
moving, and casting forth wildfire; and round about the said foyste
stood terrible monsters and wilde men, casting of fire and making a
hideous noise.” They were usually employed in land processions, and
the danger of too near an approach to them is alluded to by one of the
characters in Wilson’s play, called “The Cobler’s Prophesy,” 1594, who
exclaims, “Comes there a pageant by? I’ll stand out of the green man’s
way, for fear of burning my vestment.” They were constant precursors
of the annual pageants exhibited on Lord Mayor’s Day in London; in the
Mayoralty procession of 1681, a body of twenty preceded the principal
device. As a part of ancient public state and magnificence, the wild
men of Hinchinbrook are most appropriately placed to watch and ward the
principal gate.
[39] The prospect has been essentially abridged by the growth of
surrounding trees. It is described by Evelyn as “a prospect, doubtless,
for city, river, ships, meadows, hill, woods, and all other amenities,
one of the most noble in the world.”
[40] Sir Henry Newton, who took the name of Puckering, on succeeding
to the estates of his maternal uncle, espoused the royal cause, and
was at the battle of Edge-hill. On the Restoration he was appointed
Paymaster-general of the Forces. “His good housekeeping and liberality
to the poor, who scarcely ever went away unfed from his gates,
gained him the general love and esteem of his neighbours, and he was
distinguished throughout the kingdom for being a generous benefactor
to the poor cavaliers whose services were not rewarded by King Charles
the Second.” Jane, the only daughter of Sir Henry, was attacked in
Greenwich Park, on the 26th of September, 1649, by a party of men,
who conveyed her to Erith, and put her on board a vessel there, the
object being to compel her to marry a man named Joseph Welsh, by whom
she was kept confined in a nunnery in Flanders, until she was induced,
“through fear and despairing of ever being restored to her friends,” to
marry him. On procuring her liberty, however, she instituted criminal
proceedings against Welsh and his accomplices, and the marriage was
declared void. They were indicted at Maidstone in 1651, and their guilt
was proved, but it does not appear that they were in custody. She
afterwards married Sir John Bale, of Carleton-Curlieu.
[41] Sir William Ducie was the son of Sir Robert Ducie, who
“accumulated immense wealth in trade. He was banker to King Charles
the First, and notwithstanding losing £80,000 by his Majesty, died,
it is said, worth more than £400,000.”--_Burke’s Extinct and Dormant
Baronetcies._
[42] An anecdote of the Prince and his tutor is thus recorded. The
Prince was here playing at the ancient English game of golf, when
lifting up his golf-club to strike the ball, one standing by said to
him, “Beware that you hit not Master Newton;” whereupon he, drawing
back his hand, said, “Had I done so, I had but paid my debts.”
[43] Sir Adam Newton was a native of Scotland, advanced to the Deanery
of Durham in 1606, which dignity, though not in orders, he held till
1620, when he resigned it, “being, in April of that year, created a
Baronet.” His appointment as tutor to Prince Henry commenced in 1599
or 1600. “He was,” according to Dr. Birch, (Life of Henry Prince of
Wales,) “thoroughly qualified for the office assigned him, both by
his genius and his skill in the learned and other languages; and was
distinguished by the neatness and perspicuity of his Latin style,
shewn by his translation of King James’s Discourse against Conrade
Vorstius.” In 1610 Mr. Adam Newton was appointed Secretary to the
Prince when his Royal Highness “settled his household.” The Prince,
to the universal grief of the nation, died in 1612. All contemporary
historians unite in his praise. The anecdote so often told of him is
a key to his admirable character. When urged to be wrathful with a
butcher whose dog had killed a stag he was chasing, and so spoiled his
sport--“Away,” said he, “all the pleasure in the world is not worth an
oath.” “He was gentle and affable; but, however, in his carriage had
a noble stateliness, without affectation, which commanded esteem and
respect. He was courteous, loving and affable; naturally modest and
even shame-faced; most patient, which he shewed both in life and death;
slow to anger; merciful to offenders, after a little punishment to make
them sensible of their faults: in brief, a character that approaches
nearer to perfection, is not to be found in history.” His death was
mourned by “all the muses;” funeral dirges to his memory were written
by Donne, Webster, Chapman, Brown, Drummond of Hawthornden, and a score
of other poets.