As pretty fair examples of the adaptability of the old English to all
the exigencies of modern comfort and refinement, and to prove that one
may do whatever one likes with this pliable style, we have the Abbey,
the Marine Retreat, some small cottages in Back Lane, also two or three
pairs of semi-detached cottages near the Catholic Church. There are
also some caricatures and abominable shams about, which throw discredit
on the style. As interesting looking, therefore pleasing, villa
residences we have Pendrea and Trewidden. Farther afield, there is an
excellent example of picturesque simplicity and variety in the
parsonage-house near Halsetown. This house is well worth the study of
builders for its convenient arrangement on a square plan, for the
variety of pleasing forms in the doorways, windows, and
well-proportioned chimney-stacks and gables, as well as the ornamental
slate-work with which some of its gables are dressed, as being more
durable than ordinary barge-boards, which soon decay, whereas the slate
is everlasting. Nothing can form more picturesque groupings than this
parsonage, and its church of corresponding style. As another example to
show how our old English seems at home and at its ease everywhere,
observe how well the addition made to the “First and Last,” becomes its
site. This portion of the ancient inn at Sennen, and the cottages in
Back Lane, Penzance, were designed by a self-taught architect, born and
bred in Sennen, Mr. Charles Hutchens, who resided many years at
Torpoint, constructed many buildings in Devonport, in the Three Towns
generally, and in other parts of the country, of which any architect
might be proud. The nephew of this gentleman, Mr. Thomas Hutchens, of
Sennen, is now Mr. Gilbert Scott’s right-hand man; and, like his
master, his whole heart and soul is devoted to Gothic architecture.
In the opinion of many persons of taste, the quaint old market
house—low, irregular, and devoid of all pretentions to ornament—when
surrounded by houses of as simple a mode, was a more pleasing object
than the present insipid, silly-looking structure, which, when first
seen from Market-jew-street, looks like a heavy wall to support a
portico and dome to which there is no body of building. A grand
entrance, to which one cannot see the means of access, and which
apparently leads to nothing. This end is the more faulty, because the
most pretentious.
The old French chateau style, with its steep pitched roofs, turrets,
galleries, balconies, &c., (of which we have a fair example in the
Queen’s Hotel) is far better adapted for a private residence in our wet
and windy climate than the naked, cold-looking Italian, with its flat,
low-pitched roof, ashamed to be seen, and such other appurtenances as
are only suitable for a temple, or other large public building, in a
sunny clime.