outlying wing, and the food had to be brought a long distance, and
frequently through an open corridor. The inconvenience of this
arrangement must have outweighed the advantage of getting the smells
and noise of the kitchen away from the house. The family rooms were the
chief concern of the designer, and his aim was to make them stately.
The arrangement most often adopted was to have a large entrance hall,
and beyond it a dining-room; on either side were two or more rooms with
a staircase between them. The hall occupied two stories in height,
being as much as 30 ft. or 36 ft. high, and it must have been cold and
cheerless, if grand. The principal rooms were lofty, and over each
was another of the same size; in some instances small rooms of less
height were placed next to the staircases, thus enabling others over
them to be reached from a landing half-way up--“intersoles,” as Gibbs
calls them. The same device had already been adopted by Hawksmoor at
Easton Neston. The symmetrical disposition of the rooms favoured the
placing of their doors in a straight line so that long vistas could
be obtained, and although Gibbs prides himself on providing passages
which rendered every room private, there were usually doors of
intercommunication, and many of the rooms suffered from a multiplicity
of entrances. The passages were evidently a concession to modern ideas,
and were often ill-lighted from openings into the hall. The observance
of strict symmetry sometimes led to the provision of two equally
important staircases where one would have been enough for practical
purposes. It also resulted in the stairs crossing windows, the outside
harmony of which was held to be sacred; and a further consequence was
the introduction of many sham windows for the sake of uniformity.
In spite of such drawbacks, which sprang from the formality of the
treatment, Gibbs’s plans are ingenious and well devised. He attaches
great importance to privacy, and frequently introduces a number of
“apartments,” as he calls them, each apartment comprising a bedroom and
dressing-room, with occasionally a third or ante-room. The demands of
those times were, of course, far simpler than our own, and Gibbs was as
skilful as any of his contemporaries in satisfying them. He was able to
do this within walls which were treated in a strictly classic manner,
founded on instructions of the Italian masters. Whether he could have
met the complex wants of the present day in so simple a fashion is open
to question.
Many of Gibbs’s original drawings are preserved in the Radcliffe
Library at Oxford, some of these being included in his “Book of
Architecture.” Two of them are reproduced here, one (Fig. 164) is plate
57 of his book, the other (Fig. 165) has not been published. The first
is an example of a house with a forecourt and wings connected by open
corridors to the central block; in the left-hand wing are the kitchens,
in the right the stables. The house is entered through a large hall
beyond which is a gallery, with small rooms at each end. To the left
of the hall is presumably the dining-room, as it lies nearest to the
kitchens, to the right is a room of the same size. There are two large
staircases resembling each other in all respects, that on the left
being probably the back stairs. Grouped on each side of the staircases
are small rooms over which might have been the “intersoles,” although
Gibbs does not expressly mention them. In this instance the hall was
but one story in height with a room over it, and there were three rooms
over the gallery. The same disposition obtained on the top floor, which
may have been devoted to guest chambers, as it would appear that the
servants were lodged in the kitchen wing, judging by the size of the
staircase.
[Illustration: FIG. 170.--A CHIMNEY-PIECE, BY GIBBS.
From the Gibbs Collection in the Radcliffe Library.]
[Illustration: FIG. 171.--No. 75 DEAN STREET, SOHO. PART
OF THE PAINTED DECORATION OF THE WALL OF THE STAIRCASE.]
The other and unpublished design (Fig. 165) is of a somewhat different
type. The centre of the house is occupied by a vast and lofty staircase
mainly lighted from a cupola. Round this is a broad corridor
giving access to the various rooms, which are of fine dimensions.
The same disposition appears to apply to all three floors, save that
on the topmost the corridor is omitted, and thus an open space is
provided which gives light to the hall on one side and to a passage
on the other, which is taken off the width of the rooms. There is no
indication where the kitchens lie; the section shows no basement, and
there are no indications of separate wings.
The section gives an adequate idea of the internal treatment; it
shows the great hall and its lighting, as well as the very simple
decoration of the rooms, far plainer in this case than in most of
those published in his book. The rooms are usually panelled somewhat
after the manner shown in Figs. 166 and 167. This gives an air of
distinction to them, but it severely limits (and perhaps not unhappily)
the number of pictures and prints which can be hung on the walls. A
very similar treatment is applied to the staircases (Fig. 168). In one
instance the walls were apparently to be painted with an architectural
composition, which introduces a touch of poetry into the practical
prose of Gibbs’s ordinary handling (Fig. 169). There is a house in
Dean Street, Soho (Fig. 171), where the staircase walls are decorated
with figure subjects by Hogarth, somewhat after the fashion of Gibbs’s
drawing, but more elaborate in design. The decoration of the rooms
already illustrated includes in each case the chimney-piece, but a
further example, to a larger scale (Fig. 170), will serve to show the
kind of design which was widely adopted, not only by Gibbs but by most
architects during the first half of the eighteenth century.
Campbell was also a practising architect as well as an illustrator of
the art, and he was consulted in the erection of Houghton Hall, in
Norfolk, which is one of the finest examples of the great houses of its
period, a period when nobles and wealthy gentlemen were vying with one
another in building fine homes in the fashionable Italian manner, and
surrounding them with equally fine gardens. It was the celebrated Prime
Minister, Sir Robert Walpole, who built Houghton; and Colin Campbell
supplied him with the design in the year 1722.[71] It would appear,
however, that Campbell did not carry out the work himself, but that his
designs were handed over to Ripley, who altered them in many respects
while following the general idea pretty faithfully. The sizes and
disposition of the rooms were varied, both in the central block and in
the wings. The proportions of the windows were altered, and Campbell’s
projecting portico was omitted, the columns being attached to the wall
instead of standing some fifteen feet in front of it. The attic stories
of his corner pavilions were also changed into domes. On the whole
these slight alterations tended to improve the appearance, but in spite
of these variations, Campbell must have the credit for the design (Fig.
173).
[Illustration: FIG. 172.--Houghton, Norfolk. Plan of Principal
Floor, 1722.]
The whole arrangement is of the prevalent type. There is a noble main
building flanked on each side at some distance by a subsidiary block,
connected to the house by colonnades which are curved on one face and
rectangular on the other. The south wing contains the kitchen and
servants’ quarters; the north wing is occupied by a picture gallery and
chapel, but much of this particular building has been destroyed by fire.
The house itself is of three stories, including the basement, which is
used in part for domestic purposes, but serves in the main to raise
the principal floor well above the ground. This floor (see plan, Fig.
172) contains the fine stone hall, a cube of 40 ft., a saloon somewhat
smaller and less lofty, a dozen fine rooms and some staircases, of
which the chief one is magnificent. All these rooms are symmetrically
arranged, and the doorways are so disposed as to produce long vistas
when the whole series is opened. The four rooms in the corners can
only be gained by passing through other rooms. The whole effect is
stately both inside and out, and although in the present day there may
be a certain lack of comfort, yet the house fully met the needs of the
time when it was built, and it provided the atmosphere of splendour
which was demanded by all great persons of the period. The whole
façade is over 500 ft. long, the central block has a frontage of 165
ft., and the wings 110 ft. These are handsome dimensions; they are
indeed so large that it is not easy for the eye to include the whole
group at once from any ordinary viewpoint. The illustration (Fig. 173)
only shows the house and its colonnades, beyond which the reader’s
imagination must add the wings, which are strictly subordinated in
height to the main building.
[Illustration: FIG. 173.--HOUGHTON, NORFOLK.]
[Illustration: FIG. 174.--HOUGHTON. THE STONE HALL.]
The interior decorations are attributed to Kent, who was assisted in
the plasterwork by the Italian, Artari. But the stone hall (Fig. 174)
follows Campbell’s drawing in the main, as may be seen by comparing
it with his sections in “Vitruvius Britannicus.” The ceiling is a
remarkable _tour de force_, and the cove, with its children disporting
themselves among the wreaths, is much admired. There is plenty of
movement and variety in it, but the figures are a little inclined to
obesity. The whole work perhaps suffers from being in too high relief,
but its vigour and freedom of design are incontestably admirable.
One of the principal rooms is called the marble dining-room, and
it was intended to be lined with marble throughout, but one side
only was carried out in this manner (Fig. 175). It includes a fine
chimney-piece, characteristic of the grander type then in vogue; on
either side of it are marble-lined recesses in which are placed marble
sideboards to correspond with their surroundings. The panel of the
chimney-piece contains a figure subject, a sacrifice to Bacchus, carved
by Rysbrach, and the decoration, both here and in the ceiling, consists
largely of grapes, a form of ornament highly appropriate to a room
devoted to entertainments in which deep drinking played an important
part. The woodwork throughout is exceedingly handsome; it is executed
for the most part in mahogany, a precious wood which had not previously
been used in great abundance. The doorway of the green state room is an
example of a rich treatment (Fig. 176), and Sir Robert’s dressing-room
one of a plainer handling (Fig. 177). The principal staircase has an
exceedingly massive mahogany balustrade (Fig. 178), and the walls are
decorated with figures and subjects in monochrome, by the hand of Kent
himself. Sir Robert is said by Walpole, in his “Anecdotes of Painting,”
to have purposely restricted the artist to this vehicle, having lively
misgivings as to Kent’s exploits in brighter and more varied pigments.
Another of the imposing houses of the eighteenth century is Wentworth
Woodhouse, in Yorkshire, a seat of the Earl Fitzwilliam, which must
not be confused with Wentworth Castle, near Barnsley, a smaller house,
but still a fine one, built by Thomas, Earl of Strafford, in 1730.
Wentworth Woodhouse was designed in the year 1740 by Henry Flitcroft
for Thomas, Earl of Malton, who succeeded some six years later to the
barony of Rockingham, and was thereupon created Marquis of Rockingham.
His biographer[72] says that he “rebuilt the ancient family seat, now
called Wentworth House, in a very elegant manner, where he died on 14th
December 1750.” His eldest daughter, Anne, married Earl Fitzwilliam,
and carried Wentworth House into her husband’s family in 1769.
Flitcroft published a drawing of the principal front of the house at
the end of the 1770 edition of Kent’s “Designs of Inigo Jones,” and in
the main this design was carried out. The central and chief part of the
façade was executed as drawn, but the two wings, while preserving their
original disposition, were considerably improved.
[Illustration: FIG. 175.--Houghton. The Marble Dining-Room.]
[Illustration: FIG. 176.--HOUGHTON. THE GREEN STATE
ROOM.]
[Illustration: FIG. 177.--Houghton. Sir Robert Walpole’s
Dressing-Room.]
[Illustration: FIG. 178.--HOUGHTON. THE UPPER PART OF
STAIRCASE.]
The stately front (Fig. 179) is some 600 ft. in extent, and is the more
striking in that it is a continuous façade, and not broken up into the
usual three parts, consisting of the house and two outlying wings.
The memory of the old curved colonnades is preserved in the convex
portions which connect the end towers with the front. The central block
is not so much an adaptation as a copy of Campbell’s second design for
Wanstead (“Vit. Brit.,” i. 24, 25), with the omission of the cupola and
of one window in the length of the wings. It is rendered personal to
the builder by the introduction of his arms in the pediment, and the
Wentworth motto, “Mea gloria fides,” in the frieze. To whatever extent
Flitcroft may have borrowed his materials, it cannot be denied that he
has blended them together with noble results.
In the interior there is a fine saloon (Fig. 180), which recalls
Campbell’s stone hall at Houghton. Its variety of treatment is in
strong contrast to the cold-looking hall which contains the staircase
(Fig. 181). Both these apartments have the defect of their qualities.
There is so much architecture that there is scarcely room for those
homely touches which endear a house to its occupants. The architect is
more in evidence than the family. The splendour which stimulates the
admiration of the stranger palls upon the eye that sees it daily; the
feelings cease to answer to the stimulus. Grand rooms like these seem
to demand an impossible series of grand functions, or at the least that
old-fashioned custom of keeping open house which once prevailed at
Wentworth Woodhouse.
[Illustration: FIG. 179.--WENTWORTH WOODHOUSE,
YORKSHIRE, 1740.]
[Illustration: FIG. 180.--WENTWORTH WOODHOUSE. THE
SALOON.]
[Illustration: FIG. 181.--Wentworth Woodhouse. The Staircase
Hall.]
[Illustration: FIG. 182.--PRIOR PARK. THE HALL.
The ceiling of the hall was opened up by Goodridge, who added the
balustrade in 1829.]
Another of the great mansions built about the same time as Wentworth
Woodhouse was Prior Park, near Bath, and here again the result would
appear to owe something to Campbell’s second design for Wanstead in so
far as the great hexastyle portico is concerned. The architect was John
Wood, of Bath, who designed it in 1736 for Ralph Allen, an extremely
capable man, who, from being a clerk in a Bath post office, became
one of the wealthiest men of his time. He established a lucrative
system of posts, and he exploited the quarries of the district. It
is said, indeed, that Prior Park was built in order to advertise
the excellence of Bath stone; if true, it was a noble form of
advertisement. The house stands high up on a hillside, and is flanked
at a distance by stables and other buildings to which it is joined by
low rusticated arcades of the same height as the basement story (Fig.
183). The whole façade is slightly curved concavely in order to follow
the conformation of the ground. From the terrace on which the house
stands a fine flight of steps, partly straight and partly curved, leads
down to a lower level, but this is a later addition, carried out by H.
E. Goodridge, of Bath, in the year 1825.
[Illustration: FIG. 183.--Prior Park, near Bath, 1736.]
It is interesting to find so splendid a house built for a self-made
man, but as Allen left no family, it has not acquired the intimate
charm of most great houses; it was for many years a Roman Catholic
college, but has now been taken over for purposes connected with the
war. The interior has suffered from fire, but the great hall retains
its imposing appearance (Fig. 182). Like most halls of the period, it
is, perhaps, too grand to be home-like, but it is admirably suited for
the present uses of the house. If, as is said, Allen was the prototype
of Fielding’s Mr. Allworthy, he must have been an amiable as well as
a capable man. The man himself may have stood for the portrait, but
Fielding placed Allworthy in circumstances of his own invention. He
was made of ancient descent, and although his seat was in Somerset,
and occupied a site comparable to that of Prior Park, the house itself
was a noble product of the Gothic style; “there was an air of grandeur
in it that struck you with awe, and rivalled the beauties of the best
Grecian architecture; and it was as commodious within as venerable
without.”
Do we not see in this description signs of a revolt from the prevailing
worship of the classic type? Fielding published “Tom Jones” about 1744,
but there were still many years to run before the classic idea ceased
to dominate domestic architecture.
Wood himself certainly did nothing to divert architectural design from
its accustomed channel. He, and his son after him, stamped Bath with
its particular character, and made it the finest city in England.
It had become a fashionable resort early in the eighteenth century,
largely owing to the exertions of Beau Nash, and it is a fortunate
circumstance that when it had to expand there was so accomplished a
man as John Wood on the spot to control the expansion. He it was who
first designed streets and squares and rows of houses as definite
architectural conceptions. There is much to be said for this idea,
especially when the work is new and the design still retains the colour
and disposition intended by the architect, and while the buildings are
occupied for the purposes for which they were built. But with the lapse
of time inevitable changes occur. The property falls into different
hands; each owner treats his portion after his own will. It may be that
one paints his part of the façade one colour, while another paints his
of a different tint, the lines of demarcation having no relation to
the architectural treatment. Some of the tenements may become business
premises, with large indications of their purpose exposed to catch
the public eye. Others may even be rebuilt in a fashion wholly out of
keeping with the original design. In short, although a square may be
built as one architectural conception, it is impossible to preserve it
as such in perpetuity, and when once the original idea is destroyed
by the march of events, the effect is worse than if it had never been
conceived.
[Illustration: FIG. 184.--Pulteney Bridge, Bath.
From an Aquatint by Thomas Malton.]
Town-planning on architectural lines can be studied at Bath better,
perhaps, than anywhere, but all towns are not equally fortunate in
preserving the original character of their buildings. Pulteney Street,
attributed to Thomas Baldwin, was laid out about 1780 with good
residences, and to close its vista there was a carefully designed
house, pleasant to look upon. Eventually, however, this house fell into
decay, the character of the street changed, and its general aspect,
instead of being fine, became depressing. Its very virtues emphasised
its decline. The house has now been restored, and the whole street has
once more become cheerful. But local enterprise is not everywhere so
vigorous as at Bath, and decay in a scheme of this kind cannot always
be arrested. Pulteney Bridge, which leads to the street of the same
name, carries a row of narrow shops on each side, and presents much the
same appearance as shown in Fig. 184. But the shops are necessarily
small, low, and shallow, and they can have no chance of expanding
or of keeping pace with other premises not thus restricted. Their
relative importance is therefore much smaller than it was at the time
when they were built. An example of a row of houses dealt with as a
piece of architecture, and one which has suffered little, if at all,
from change, is the Royal Crescent (Fig. 185). It was designed by the
younger Wood in 1769.
[Illustration: FIG. 185.--The Royal Crescent, Bath, 1769.]
[Illustration: FIG. 186.--REDDISH MANOR, BROAD CHALK,
WILTS.]
[Illustration: FIG. 187.--WIDCOMBE MANOR HOUSE, BATH.]
The abundance and excellent quality of the stone in the Bath district
greatly facilitated the erection of new houses both in the city and
the neighbourhood. It was susceptible of delicate detail, and lent
itself admirably to the classic work then in vogue, which indeed
could never have obtained a footing save through the medium of stone.
Throughout the district there are to be found good houses of the time
of the Woods, houses which are not large, which have no pretensions
to vie with Prior Park, yet which are handsomely treated, and have
had considerable skill and some learning bestowed upon their design.
Such a one is Widcombe Manor House (Fig. 187), of which, however, it
must be observed that it would be useless to undertake such a house
unless one were prepared to spend a considerable amount for the sake
of architectural effect. It is interesting to contrast with this
product of the stone district a house in the adjoining county of
Wilts.--Reddish Manor, Broad Chalk (Fig. 186). The walls here are of
brick and the ornament is of stone, but apparently either the stone or
the money gave out by the time the roof was reached, for the cornice
and the pediment are of brick, and it is seen at once how impossible it
was to carry out classic detail in the ordinary brick of the district,
and with the limited skill of the ordinary workman. Nevertheless
the result is attractive, and it prompts the somewhat disconcerting
question, whether the fancy is not as much tickled by the efforts of
the obscure and half-educated designer, as by the correct and skilful
handling of the trained architect? Accidents of colour and situation,
the effects of time and weather, and above all, individuality of
treatment, are as potent factors in impressing the imagination as
book-learning and careful adherence to rules of proportion; and in
admiring the great houses of the eighteenth century, and Campbell,
Gibbs, and the hierarchy of architects who produced them, one longs to
meet some unexpected difficulty successfully surmounted, some state of
things not contemplated in the books, which should prove that the man
had an invention, an imagination, one might almost say a soul, of his
own.
The custom of building large houses with detached wings survived well
into the middle of the eighteenth century. It will be remembered that
Isaac Ware, in his “Complete Body of Architecture” (1756), gives
elaborate rules for the proportions and disposition of such edifices;
Holkham Hall, in Norfolk, designed by Kent about 1734, and Kedleston
Hall, in Derbyshire, designed by James Paine in 1761, are two notable
examples still in existence.
Holkham is the most important piece of domestic work of the fashionable
architect, William Kent, who was the favourite protégé of Lord
Burlington. Like most of his contemporaries, Kent passed several years
in Italy before doing any work in England. He was of lowly origin, as
were many architects of the time. As a start in life he was apprenticed
to a coach-painter; Ripley walked to London at the onset of his career,
and obtained work with a journeyman carpenter; Carr, of York, began as
a working mason; all three were Yorkshire men. Kent early impressed
men of position with his unusual capacity, and it was through their
kindness that he was enabled to study in Italy, where he appears to
have lived from 1710 to 1719. At this time he was studying painting, a
pursuit in which, by general consent, he achieved no distinction--at
any rate no enviable distinction. Sir Robert Walpole’s opinion of his
powers in this direction has already been indicated (p. 256). During
his stay in Rome he became acquainted with Lord Burlington, who,
according to Horace Walpole, “discovered the rich vein of genius that
had been hid from the artist himself.” He came back to England with his
new patron, and thenceforward his success was assured. An apartment was
assigned to him in Burlington House as long as he lived, and on his
death “he was buried in a very handsome manner in Lord Burlington’s
vault at Chiswick.”[73]
[Illustration: FIG. 188.--Holkham Hall, Norfolk, 1734. Plan of
the Principal Floor.]
[Illustration: FIG. 189.--HOLKHAM HALL. THE SOUTH
FRONT.]