On the borders of Ashdown Forest, in the county of Sussex, stands the
above picturesque ruin of Brambletye House, whose lettered fame may be
dated from the publication of Mr. Smith's novel of that name, in
January, 1826. The ruin has since attracted scores of tourists, as we
were, on our recent visit, informed by the occupier of the adjoining
farm-house; which circumstance coupled with the high literary success of
Mr. Smith's novel, has induced us to select Brambletye House for the
illustration of our present number.
Brambletye, or, as it is termed in Doomsday Book, Brambertie House,
after the conquest, became the property of the Earl of Mortain and
Cornwall, forming part of the barony then conferred upon him, and
subsequently denominated the honour of the eagle. Passing into
possession of the Andehams, Saint Clares, and several others, it came
into the occupation of the Comptons, towards the beginning of the
seventeenth century; and from the arms of that family impaling those of
Spencer, still remaining over the principal entrance, with the date 1631
in a lozenge, it is conjectured that the old moated edifice (represented
in the annexed vignette) which had hitherto been the residence of the
proprietors, was abandoned in the reign of James I., by Sir Henry
Compton, who built the extensive and solid baronial mansion, commonly
known by the name of Brambletye House.
[Illustration]
"From their undaunted courage and inflexible loyalty to the Stuarts,"
says the novelist, "the Comptons had been heavy sufferers, both in purse
and person, during the eventful progress of the civil wars. The Earl of
Northampton, the head of the family, and nephew to Sir Henry, the
presumed builder of Brambletye, had four sons, officers under him,
whereof three charged in the field at the battle of Hopton Heath, and
the eldest, Lord Compton, was wounded. The Earl himself, refusing to
take quarter from the rascally Roundheads, as he indignantly termed
them, even when their swords were at his throat, was put to death in the
same battle; and the successor to his title, with one of his brothers,
finally accompanied the royal family in their exile. Sir John Compton, a
branch of this family, having preserved much of his property from the
committee of sequestration, displayed rather more splendour than fell to
the lot of most of the cavaliers who took an equally conspicuous part
against the parliament armies. Although never capable of any regular
defence, yet the place being hastily fortified, refused the summons of
the parliamentarian colonel, Okey, by whom it Was invested; but it was
speedily taken, when sad havoc was committed by the soldiery, all the
armorial bearings, and every symbol of rank and gentility, being
wantonly mutilated or destroyed."
In the time of the commonwealth, Brambletye was the focus of many a
cavalier conspiracy. "From its not being a place of any strength or
notice, it was imagined that Brambletye might better escape the keen and
jealous watchfulness, which kept the protector's eye ever fixed upon the
strong holds and defensible mansions of the nobility and gentry; while
its proximity to the metropolis, combined with the seclusion of its
situation, adapted it to any enterprize which required at the same time
secrecy, and an easy communication with the metropolis."
In the novel just quoted, which is altogether a pleasant assemblage of
historical facts, aided by the imaginative garniture of the author, the
denouement is brought about by the explosion of a gunpowder vault which
destroyed part of the mansion; and on the marriage of his hero and
heroine Brambletye House was abandoned to its fate; "and the time that
has intervened since its desertion," says our author, "combining with
the casualty and violence by which it was originally shattered and
dismantled, has reduced it to its present condition of a desolate and
forlorn ruin."
A visit to Brambletye was the immediate object of our journey, and
though a distance of thirty-three miles, we considered ourselves amply
requited by the pensive interest of the scene and its crowded
associations. In our childhood we had been accustomed to clamber its
ruins and tottering staircases with delight, not to say triumph;
heedless as we then were of the historical interest attached to them.
After a lapse of a score and ---- years, the whole scene had become
doubly attractive. A new road had been formed from East Grinstead to
Forest Row, from which a pleasant lane wound off to Brambletye. We are
at a loss to describe our emotions as we approached the ruin. It was
altogether a little struggle of human suffering. Within two hundred
years the mansion had been erected, and by turns became the seat of
baronial splendour and of civil feuds,--of the best and basest feelings
of mankind;--the loyalty and hospitality of cavaliers; the fanatic
outrages of Roundheads; and ultimately of wanton desolation! The gate
through which Colonel Lilburne and his men entered, was blocked up with
a hurdle; and the yard where his forces were marshalled was covered with
high flourishing grass; the towers had almost become mere shells, but
the vaulted passages, once stored with luxuries and weapons, still
retained much of their original freshness. What a contrast did these few
wrecks of turbulent times present with the peaceful scene by which they
were surrounded, viz. a farm and two water-mills--on one side displaying
the stormy conflict of man's passion and petty desolation--and on the
other, the humble attributes of cheerful industry. We strove to repress
our feelings as we entered the principal porch, where by an assemblage
of names of visiters scribbled on the walls, and not unknown to us, we
learnt that, we were not the first to sympathize with the fate of
Brambletye!
Within these few years, through a sort of barbarous disregard for their
associations, the lodge and the greater part of the wall represented in
our engraving, has been pulled down! and the moated house has lately
shared the same fate--for the sake of their materials--cupidity in which
we rejoiced to hear the destroyers were disappointed--their intrinsic
worth not being equal to the labour of removing them: the work of
destruction would, however, have extended to the whole of the ruins had
not some guardian hand interfered. It will be seen that the moated house
was furnished with a ponderous drawbridge and other fortifying
resources; from the licentious character of its founders it was
_consequently_ haunted many years before its removal.
In East Grinstead we learned that the Comptons were a noble family, and
traditions of their hospitality are current amongst the oldest
inhabitants of that town.[1]
[1] For the loan of the drawing (made in 1780), whence the first
engraving is copied, we are indebted to the kindness of a
gentleman of East Grinstead; and for the sketch of the latter
to an affectionate relative.
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