Hitherto we have but glanced at the earlier periods of what may be termed
Domestic Life in England. We have attempted to trace our British
ancestors in their "woods and caves, and painted skins;" in their rude
state, before the Roman colonization; in their advancement under that
enlightened sway; and their decadence after their conquerors had left
them. To these periods have succeeded the ages of Castle-building, when
edifices were built for purposes of defence. In lawless times, might
lorded it over right, and stronger places of abode than we regard a
_house_ were necessary for the security and protection of the
inhabitants. Throughout these periods we have few evidences, from their
dwellings, of how the _people_ lived: from the earth caverns of the
Early Britons to the Roman civilization is a dreary picture of rude
accommodation; and though the excavation of ancient sites, and the
operation of the plough, may bring to light many a splendid pavement and
appliances, which denote luxurious life,--these are the remains of the
embellished villas of the wealthy Roman, and not of the abodes of the
conquered Briton. The Saxons lived so meanly, that it were vain to
expect to find many traces of their dwellings; and of the Danes there
are still fewer remains. With these exceptions we have, before the
Conquest, no actually existing witnesses.
With the Norman period our series of evidences begins. For some time
after the Conquest, strictly domestic remains are very scanty. The great
men lived in castles, which are, indeed, domestic so far as men lived in
them, but whose architecture is too much affected by military
considerations to be called strictly domestic architecture, which is the
building of _houses_, whose defence is either not thought of or is
something quite secondary. It is clear that houses of this sort, of such
pretensions as to possess any architectural character, or to be
preserved down to our time, could not well exist, in the open country at
least, till the land had become comparatively settled and civilized.
Hence, our list of Norman houses in England is very scanty, and they are
chiefly formed in walled towers, like Lincoln and Bury St. Edmund's.
[The erection of Lincoln Castle by order of William the Conqueror, in
1086, is said to have caused the demolition of 240 houses. Perhaps the
only perfect and untouched Norman example is the small unroofed house at
Christ Church, in Hampshire. The church is Norman, and the tower is
supposed to be of Roman origin.]
Several of the fragments elsewhere have very fine Norman detail; but for
Norman architecture exhibiting anything like the real grandeur of the
style, we must look to the castles and monasteries. In the thirteenth
century our examples are still but few and small, though much more
numerous than before. After the age of Edward III. the castle became
more like a mansion, as we have seen in the castles of Windsor, Warwick,
and Kenilworth.
As the character of the times became more peaceful, and law succeeded to
the reign of the strong hand, a still further change took place in the
construction of these dwellings, and they partook but slightly of the
castellated character. Beauty and ornament were consulted by the
builders instead of strength; and the convenient accommodation of the
in-dwellers, in lieu of the means of disposing of a crowded garrison,
and its necessary provision in time of siege. They usually retained the
moat and battlemented gateway, and one or two strong turrets, to build
which a royal licence was necessary. Thus, the idea of the English
manor-house seems to have disengaged itself from that of the castle, and
we begin to have a noble series of strictly domestic buildings, defence
being quite secondary, and in no way obtruded. They were generally
quadrangular in plan, the larger class inclosing two open courts, of
which one contained the stables, offices, and lodgings of the household;
the second, the principal or statechambers, with the hall and chapel.
The windows were large and lofty, reaching almost to the ground, and
several of them opening to the gardens on the outside of the building,
though these were inclosed by high battlemented walls and a moat. It
should, however, be remarked, that the mansion, except in edifices of
considerable extent and consequence, seldom contained more than one
court.
The hall, in most cases, retained its original design. It was
distinguished by its superior elevation, its turreted towers (or
lantern), its windows, and projecting bay. The principal doorway entered
upon a vestibule or lobby, extending across the edifice, with a door of
inferior dimensions at the opposite extremity, having, on one side, the
lower wall of the hall, in which were doors leading to the buttery and
kitchener's department; and on the other, the screen, or lofty partition
of wood, designed to conceal those doors from the view of persons in the
hall. In the Companies' Halls of the City of London, a moveable screen
is generally used for this purpose.
The screen was often panelled with wood from top to bottom, and divided
into compartments, which were enriched with shields and carved work,
having usually two or three arched doorways opening on the lobby. In
many instances, the minstrels' gallery was placed above this
compartment.
Among the richest specimens extant of the embattled mansions are
Wingfield Manor-house, in Derbyshire; Cowdray, in Sussex;[32] Kelmingham
Hall, in Suffolk; Penshurst, in Kent; Deene Park, in Northamptonshire;
and Thornbury Castle, in Gloucestershire. This period of the transition
from the castle to the mansion is considered the best style of English
architecture.
Wingfield, near the centre of Derbyshire, was built by Ralph, Lord
Cromwell, who, in the time of Henry VI. was Treasurer of England, in
allusion to which he had bags or purses of stones carved over the
gateway of Wingfield, as well as on the manor-house of Coly Weston, in
Northamptonshire, augmented by this Lord Cromwell. Wingfield Manor-house
originally consisted of two square courts--one containing the principal
apartments, and the other the offices. It had a noble hall lighted by a
beautiful octagon window, and a range of Gothic windows, north and
south. The principal entrance is by an embattled gate-house, through a
pointed arch, beside the end of the great state apartment lighted by a
large and rich pointed window. Here the Earl of Shrewsbury held in his
custody Mary Queen of Scots, in a convenient suite of apartments, which
communicated with the great tower, whence the ill-starred captive could
see her friends with whom she held a secret correspondence. An attempt
was made by Leonard Dacre to rescue Mary, after which Elizabeth,
becoming suspicious of the Earl of Shrewsbury, directed the Lady
Huntingdon to take care of the Queen of Scots in Shrewsbury's house; and
had her suite reduced to thirty persons. Her captivity at Wingfield is
stated to have extended to nine years, which, however, is questionable.
Thornbury Castle is picturesquely placed twenty-four miles south-west of
Gloucester, on the banks of a rivulet two miles westward of "the
glittering, red, and rapid Severn, embedded in its emerald vale, and
shining up in splendid contrast to the shady hills of the Dean Forest."
Thornbury was begun by Edward Stafford, Duke of Buckingham; its
completion was prevented by his execution, in the year 1522. It is a
castellated group, with battlemented towers and turrets, and enriched
chimney-shafts, clothed with luxuriant ivy; its bay-windows are very
fine. Buckingham fell one of the earliest victims to the cruel tyranny
of our eighth Henry. The line of his pedigree is marked in blood. His
father was beheaded by Richard III.; his grandfather was killed at the
battle of St. Albans; his great grandfather at the battle of
Northampton; and the father of this latter at the battle of Shrewsbury.
More than a century had elapsed since any chief of this great family had
fallen by a natural death. Edward was doomed to no nobler fate than his
forefathers. Knivett, a discarded officer of Buckingham's household,
furnished information to Wolsey, which led to the apprehension of his
late master: it was stated that he had consulted a monk about future
events; that he had declared all the acts of Henry VII. to be wrongfully
done; that he had told Knivett, that if he had been sent to the Tower,
when he was in danger of being committed, he would have played the part
which his father had intended to perform at Salisbury--where, if he
could have obtained an audience, he would have stabbed Richard III. with
a knife; and that he had told Lord Abergavenny, if the king had died, he
would have the rule of the land. Yet, all this was but the testimony of
a spy. Buckingham confessed the real amount of his absurd inquiries from
the friar. He was tried in the court of the Lord High Steward, by a jury
of one duke, one marquess, seven earls, and twelve barons, who convicted
him. The Duke of Norfolk shed tears on pronouncing sentence. The
prisoner said: "May the eternal God forgive you my death, as I do." The
only favour which he could obtain was, that the ignominious part of a
traitor's death should be remitted. He was accordingly beheaded on the
17th of May, 1521; whilst the surrounding people vented their
indignation against Wolsey by loud cries of "The butcher's son!" The
half-built and decaying Thornbury has prompted this saddening history of
its founder and his ill-fated family.
Longleat, in Wiltshire, the seat of the Marquis of Bath, and built in
the reign of Edward VI., is, for its date, esteemed the most regular
building in the kingdom. Upon its site was originally a priory, which
came into the possession of the Thynne family, in the reign of Henry
VIII. The present mansion was commenced by the first proprietor of that
family, and completed for his successors by an Italian architect: it
consists of three stories, Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian, adorned with
rich pilasters, handsome balustrades, and statues; and from the roof
rise several cupolas. The apartments are large and sumptuous; and the
great hall is two stories in height. The gardens were originally
embellished with fountains, cascades, and statues, and laid out in
formal parterres; but the whole has been newly remodelled. The entire
domain is fifteen miles in circuit; and in magnitude, grandeur, and
variety of decoration, Longleat has always been the pride of this part
of the country. Its collection of pictures includes many portraits of
eminent persons in the reign of Queen Elizabeth and her successors.
In the time of Elizabeth and James I. were erected many mansions upon
splendid and extensive scales. John Thorpe built five palaces for
Elizabeth's ministers: for Lord Burghley, Theobalds and Burghley;
Wimbledon, for Sir Robert Cecil; Hollenby and Kirby, for Lord Chancellor
Hatton; and Buckhurst for the Earl of Dorset. Thorpe also built for Sir
Walter Cope, Holland House, Kensington, about 1606, which received its
name from Henry Rich, Earl of Holland, by whom the mansion was greatly
altered. Its plan is that of half the letter H, of deep red brick, with
pilasters and their entablature; the window dressings, and coping, of
stone. Few of the apartments retain their original character; some of
the interior is supposed to be by Inigo Jones. The gilt room is by
Cleyn, an artist largely employed by James I. and Charles I.; the
figures over the fireplace are worthy of Parmegiano, and here is a very
fine collection of modern busts.
Burghley, Northamptonshire, has the rare fortune of remaining to this
time the seat of the descendants of the great Lord Burghley, for whom
the mansion was built; the present noble owner being the Marquis of
Exeter: in approaching it from Stamford, its singular chimneys, the
variety of its turrets, towers, and cupolas, and the steeple of its
chapel rising from its centre, give it the appearance more of a small
city than a single building.
Hatfield, in Hertfordshire, which has been a palace, episcopal, royal,
and noble, for upwards of seven centuries, was mostly built by Thorpe,
in 1611. The old palace was of the twelfth century: here is the chamber
in which the Princess Elizabeth was kept for some time a state prisoner;
and in the present mansion, Charles I. was confined. In plan, Hatfield
is in the form of half the letter H: each front differs from the other,
but in unity of design the Tudor period is remarkably prevalent, and it
is believed that no house in the kingdom erected at so early a date,
remains so entire as this.
A stately mansion of this period was erected at Campden, in
Gloucestershire, at an expense of 29,000_l_.; it occupied eight acres,
was of splendid architecture, and had a large dome rising from the roof,
which was illuminated nightly for the guidance of travellers. Campden
was burnt during the Civil War.
Haddon Hall, near Bakewell, in Derbyshire, erected at various periods,
affords excellent examples of the several styles of domestic
architecture, from the early pointed, to the Tudor and Elizabethan. It
was originally a barton, or farm, given by William the Conqueror to his
natural son, William Peverell. The mansion is preserved intact: the
tapestry and paneling remain; the carved wainscoting and ornamented
ceiling of the long gallery are of the time of Elizabeth; the
banqueting-hall is equally perfect; the chapel is a good specimen of the
early Pointed Gothic. Haddon is one of the curiosities of the Peak
country. Many years since Mr. Reinagle painted a picture of this famous
old place, which evoked the following poetical tribute to its
truthfulness:--
"Gre weeds o'ertop thy ruin'd wall,
Grey, venerable Haddon Hall;
The swallow twitters through thee:
Who would have thought, when, in their pride,
Thy battlements the storm defied,
That Time should thus subdue thee?
"While with a famed and far renown
England's third Edward wore the crown,
Up sprang'st thou in thy glory;
And surely thine (if thou couldst tell,
Like the old Delphian Oracle)
Would be a wondrous story.
"How many a Vernon thou hast seen,
Kings of the Peak thy walls within;
How many a maiden tender;
How many a warrior stem and steel'd,
In burganet, and lance, and shield,
Array'd with martial splendour.
"Then, as the soft autumnal breeze
Just curl'd the lake, just stirr'd the trees,
In the blue cloudless weather,
How many a gallant hunting train,
With hawk in hood, and horse in rein,
Forsook thy courts together!
"The grandeur of the olden time
Mounted thy towers with pride sublime,
Enlivening all who near'd them;
From Hippocras and Sherris sack
Palmer or pilgrim turn'd not back
Before thy cellars cheer'd them.
"Since thine unbroken early day,
How many a race hath pass'd away,
In charnel vault to moulder--
Yet Nature round thee breathes an air
Serenely bright, and softly fair,
To charm the awed beholder.
"The past is but a gorgeous dream,
And Time glides by us like a stream,
While musing on thy story;
And sorrow prompts a deep alas!
That, like a pageant thus, should pass
To wreck all human glory."
It is now time to speak more in detail of the main apartment--the chief
feature of an ancient residence of every class--the Great Hall, which
often gave its name to the whole house. A very able writer has thus
lucidly yet briefly told its history:--"In the early houses, the hall is
almost the whole house; there is nothing besides, except the requisite
offices and a room or two for the lord and the lady. The mass of the
household slept how they might in the hall. Gradually, as civilization
increased, the accommodation in a house became greater, and the relative
importance--sometimes the positive size--of the Hall gradually
diminishes. The family gradually deserted it, and the modern luxury of
the dining-room was introduced. The _with_drawing-room, that into which
they withdrew from the hall, had already appeared. At last, in the
sixteenth century, the Hall, though still a grand feature, became, as
now, a mere entrance, often with rooms over it."
Sometimes, the Great Hall was raised upon an undercroft of stone
vaulting, as we see in the Guildhall, the undercroft of which is the
finest specimen of its class in the metropolis. Gerard's Hall, in
Basing-lane, built by John Gisors, pepperer, Mayor of London in 1245,
and is described by Stow as "a great house of old time, builded upon
arched vaults, and with arched gates of stone, brought from Cane, in
Normandy."
Aubrey, writing in the seventeenth century, thus describes, in his
quaint way, the characteristics of the old manorial or hall houses of
the times of the Plantagenets and Tudors: "The architecture of an old
English gentleman's house (especially in Wiltshire and thereabouts) was
a high strong wall, a gate-house, a Great Hall, and parlours, and within
the little green court, where you come in, stood on one side the
_barne_. _They then thought not the noise of the threshold ill
musique._"
To come to details. The Great Hall corresponded to the refectory of the
abbey. The principal entrance to the main building, from the front or
outer court, opened into a _thorough lobby_, having on one side several
doors or arches, leading to the buttery,[33] kitchen, and domestic
offices; on the other side, the Hall, parted off by a screen, generally
of wood, elaborately carved, and enriched with shields and a variety of
ornaments, and pierced with several arches, having folding-doors. Above
the screen, and over the lobby, was the minstrels' gallery; on its front
were usually hung armour, antlers, and similar memorials of the family
exploits.
The Hall itself was a large and lofty room, in the shape of a
parallelogram; the roof, the timbers of which were framed with pendants,
generally richly carved and emblazoned with arms, formed one of the most
striking features. "The top beam of the Hall," in allusion to the
position of his coat-of-arms, was a symbolical manner of drinking the
health of the master of the house. At the upper end of the apartment,
furthest from the entrance, the floor was usually raised a step, and
this part was styled the _daïs_, or high place. On one side of the daïs
was a deep embayed window, reaching nearly down to the floor; the other
windows ranged along one or both sides of the Hall, at some height above
the ground, so as to leave room for wainscoting, or arras, below them.
We see this arrangement to great advantage in the Great Hall at Hampton
Court Palace, where the wall beneath the windows is hung with Flemish
tapestry, in eight compartments, the arabesque borders of which are very
beautiful; the subject is the History of Abraham. The tapestry at the
entrance of the Hall is of much earlier date, being in the school of
Albert Durer: the subject, Justice and Mercy pleading before Kings or
Judges. The withdrawing-room is also hung with tapestry, the subjects
mostly mythological; and the oriel-window is filled with armorial
stained glass.
The Hall windows generally were enriched with stained glass,
representing the armorial bearings of the family, their connexions, and
royal patrons; and between the windows were hung full-length portraits
of the same persons. The windows were not, however, permanently glazed
till the fifteenth century. Before that, it was the custom for the
glazed casements to be carried about from manor to manor along with the
other furniture; every man of rank, whether civil or ecclesiastical, was
in the habit of travelling with all his retinue, from one estate to
another, so as to consume the produce of each estate upon the spot. It
is this custom, or rather necessity, which explains the multitude of
manorial houses possessed by every mediæval magnate, and the constant
migrations from one to the other. Royal writs and documents are
frequently dated from the most insignificant places where the court, on
its progress from one royal manor to another, might happen to be
staying.[34]
To return to the Hall. The Royal arms usually occupied a conspicuous
station at either end of the room. The head-table was laid for the lord
and principal guests on the raised place, parallel with the upper end
wall; and other tables were ranged along the sides for inferior visitors
and retainers. Tables, thus placed, were said to stand _banquet-wise_.
In the centre of the Hall was the rere-dosse, or fire-iron, against
which fagots were piled, and burnt upon the stone floor, the smoke
passing through an aperture in the roof immediately overhead, which was
generally formed into an elevated lantern, a conspicuous ornament to the
exterior of the building. In later times, a wide-arched fireplace was
formed in the wall on one side of the room.
The Halls, in fact, of our colleges, at either University, and the Inns
of Court, still remain as in Aubrey's time, accurate examples of the
ancient and baronial and conventual Halls: preserving not merely their
original form and appearance, but the identical arrangement and service
of the table. Even the central fire has been, in some instances, kept
up, being of charcoal, burnt in a large braziere, in lieu of the
rere-dosse. The open fire was so kept up, at Westminster School, so late
as 1850. The Halls of the temple, Gray's Inn, and Staple Inn, have their
lanterns; and even the Hall of Barnard's Inn, the oldest and the
smallest, has its lantern; the newly built Hall of Lincoln's Inn has a
very ornamental one; and the new roof of the Guildhall is to have a
lantern with a lofty spire. The lantern of Westminster Hall is large and
picturesque; it is modern, of cast-iron, but is an exact copy of the
original one, erected near the end of the fourteenth century. As the
existing lanterns are no longer required for the egress of smoke, they
are glazed.
In other respects, probably, little, if anything, has been altered since
the Tudor era; and he who is anxious to know the mode in which our
ancestors dined in the reigns of the Henrys and Edwards, may be
gratified by attending that meal in the Great Halls of Christchurch or
Trinity, and tasking his imagination to convert the principal and
fellows at the upper table, into the stately baron, his family, and
guests; and the gowned commoners at the side-tables, into the liveried
retainers. The service of the kitchen, buttery, and cellar is conducted,
at the present day, precisely according to the ancient custom.[35]
Gradually, the solar or private sitting-room of the matron or mistress
of the house increased in importance. Its most usual position was at one
end of the Hall, on an upper level, raised above an apartment which was
used as a cellar or a store-room.
The Hall is, of course, the part of a house or castle where the art of
architecture proper has the best opportunity of displaying itself. So,
in a monastery, the refectory comes next in grandeur to the church and
chapter-house. Indeed, some of the early Halls were built not unlike
churches, with two rows of pillars. In a wooden construction this is not
uncommon both in halls and barns; but the examples we mean have two
regular aisles with stone pillars and arches. Such was the original
Westminster Hall, till Richard II. threw it into one body under the
present magnificent single roof. The finest existing example is perhaps
that superb one at Oakham Castle, of the best architecture of the end of
the twelfth century. In the next century we have the Hall of the Royal
Palace at Winchester used like that at Oakham, for an assize-court. Of
single-bodied halls of the fourteenth century, nothing can surpass those
of Caerphilly Castle in Glamorganshire, and Mayfield Palace in Sussex.
Mayfield has, and Caerphilly seems to have been designed to have, a very
effective arrangement of stone arches thrown across at intervals to
support the roof, and to produce something of the effect of actual
vaulting. The same is the case at Conway. Most of these examples are
ruined.[36] Mayfield has lately been restored.
The gallery was brought into use with the Elizabethan style of
architecture, and became a prominent feature among the apartments of
houses in that style. The gallery at Hatfield, with a magnificently
gilded ceiling--a blaze of gold--is a fine specimen: it was regilt just
previous to the visit of Queen Victoria to Hatfield in 1846: a state
ball was given in this gallery, and we remember to have been told the
day after the Royal visit, that during the dance there fell from Her
Majesty's hand a rose, which was immediately taken up by a gentleman of
the company; on bended knee he presented it to the Queen, who most
graciously returned the flower, which, we doubt not, is preserved.
The extensive passages in some ancient houses have, no doubt, been
originally similar to the open galleries round our old inns, of which we
have examples, year by year, diminishing in number. These passages were
ultimately inclosed for comfort and convenience. The staircases, in
ancient times, were usually cylindrical, and were carried up in a
separate turret: it was not until the age of Elizabeth that the massive
staircase, with its broad hand-rails, balustrades, and enriched
ornaments, was introduced into the mansion; that of a later period is
familiarly known as a "Queen Anne staircase."
The royal parlour of Eltham is a perfect specimen of the
banqueting-hall, and was the frequent residence of our kings before
Henry VIII.; and here they held their great Christmas feasts. Two
thousand guests in 1483 were entertained here at Christmas, by Edward
IV., the royal builder of the Hall. His badges--the falcon, the
fetterlock, and rose-en-soleil--are sculptured over the chief entrance;
and Edward is represented by Skelton as saying:
"I made Nottingham a palace royal,
Windsor, Eltham, and many mo'."
Princesses have been cradled here, Parliaments have met in the Great
Hall, and kings and queens have betaken themselves here to meditate upon
the waning earthly greatness. The gloomy Henry VII. at intervals retired
to Eltham; Queen Mary or Queen Elizabeth would spend a few days in the
almost forsaken palace; and James I. had been known to pass a morning
here.
Eltham is now a regal ruin. "The fair pleasaunce, the echoing courts,
the king's lodging, presence and guard chamber, and the rooms in which
the royal attendants lodged, have all disappeared. The gateway and high
walls of ruddy brick only remain to mark the site of the tilt-yard. The
moat is half dry, and the sluggish stream is still spanned by the bridge
of four arches, which is contemporaneous with the Hall; but 'the gateway
and the fair front towards the moat,' built by Henry VII., have been
replaced by two modern houses; and another, with three barge-board
gables, and corbelled attics, to the east end of the Hall, retains the
designation of the Buttery. There is a view of the Hall by Buck, dated
1735, which represents a great portion of the palace, with its quaint
water-towers and moated walls still standing; but, although Parliament
in 1827 spent £700 upon the repairs, the state of the Hall is sad enough
now: full of litter of every sort, its windows unglazed or bricked up;
with damp fastenings in the naked walls, and rough rafters stretching
across from side to side, and reaching above the corbels. It is now
used as a barn. It was at once an audience-chamber and refectory, 100
feet in length, 55 in height, and 36 feet broad. But the windows now
admit broad streams of cheerful sunshine, which light up the thick
trails of ivy that flow over the empty panes; its deep bay-window, now
stripped of glazing, but enriched with groining and tracery which
flanked the daïs, betoken the progress which elegance and security had
made at the period of their erection: the lofty walls continue to
support a high pitched roof of oak, in tolerable preservation, with
hammer-beams, carved pendants, and braces supported on corbels of hewn
stone; and although the royal table, the hearth, and louvre have
disappeared, there are still remains of the minstrels' gallery, and the
doors in the oak screen below it, which lead to the capacious kitchen,
the butteries, and cellars, to tell each their several tale of former
state."[37]
Hitherto, we have mostly spoken of palaces and mansions. It is, however,
very difficult to discover any fragments of houses inhabited by the
gentry, before the reign, at soonest, of Edward III., or even to trace
them by engravings in the older topographical works; not only from the
dilapidations of time, but because very few considerable mansions had
been erected by that class. It is an error to suppose that the English
gentry were lodged in stately, or even in well-sized houses. They
usually consisted of an entrance-passage, running through the house,
with a hall on one side, a parlour beyond, and one or two chambers
above; and on the opposite side, a kitchen, pantry, and other offices.
Such was the ordinary manor-house of the fifteenth and sixteenth
centuries. "In the remains of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries,
Somersetshire is especially rich. Almost every village has a house, a
parsonage, or some building or other of this class, to say nothing of
extensive monastic remains, as at Glastonbury, Woodspring, Muchelney,
and Old Cleve. Among the Somersetshire houses, the original portions of
Clevedon Court may claim the first place. Then comes a long list, of
which, perhaps, the manor-house and 'fish-house' of Meare, near
Glastonbury, are the most curious and beautiful."[38]
Larger houses were erected by men of great estates during the reigns of
Henry VI. and Edward IV.; but very few can be traced higher; and Mr.
Hallam, in his _History of the Middle Ages_, conceives it to be
difficult to name a house in England, still inhabited by a gentleman,
and not of the castle description, the principal apartments of which are
older than the reign of Henry VII. There may be a few solitary specimens
of earlier date. The Rev. Mr. Lysons says:--"The most remarkable
fragment of early building which I have anywhere found mentioned, is at
a house in Berkshire, called Appleton, where there is a sort of
prodigy--an entrance-passage with circular arches in the Saxon (?
Norman) style, which must, probably, be as old as the reign of Henry II.
No other private house in England, as I conceive, can boast of such a
monument of antiquity."
Wood and stone were the earliest materials used in house-building; but
as great part of England affords no stone fit for building, her
oak-forests were thinned, and less durable dwellings were erected with
inferior timber. Stone houses are, however, mentioned as belonging to
the citizens of London, even in the latter half of the twelfth century.
Flints bound together with strong cement were employed in building
manor-houses. Hewn stone was employed for castles, and the larger
mansions: much stone was, in early times, brought from Normandy.
Chestnut was much employed. Evelyn, in his _Sylva_, states that "The
chestnut is, next the oak, one of the most sought after by the carpenter
and joiner. It hath formerly built a good part of our ancient houses in
the City of London, as does yet appear. I had once a very large barn
near the City, framed entirely of this timber; and certainly the trees
grew not far off, probably in some woods near the town; for in that
description of London, written by Fitz-Stephen, in the reign of Henry
II. he speaks of a very noble and large forest which grew on the boreal
[north] part of it."[39]
Ducarel, in his _Anglo-Norman Antiquities_, says: "Rudhall, near Ross,
in Herefordshire, is built with chestnut, which probably grew on the
estate, although no tree of the kind is now to be found growing wild in
that part of the country. The old houses in the city of Gloucester are
constructed of chestnut, derived assuredly from the chestnut-trees in
the forest of Dean. In some of the oldest houses of Faversham much
genuine chestnut as well as oak is employed. In the nunnery of
Davington, near Faversham (now entire), the timber consists of oak,
intermingled with chestnut."
In the fourteenth century, ornamental carpentry had reached a high
degree of excellence. There are many examples of ancient timber houses
yet remaining in this country: they have massive beams and timbers, and
are generally of unnecessary strength. The intermixture of wood, brick,
and stone, or wood and plaster, in the exterior of houses, was, for a
considerable period, the common style of building in the fifteenth and
sixteenth centuries. Weatherboard--that is, planks overlapping each
other--was formerly much used for house-fronts, and possessed great
durability. Overhanging roofs, walls of plaster with lofty gables,
bay-windows, and porches of timber, with each story projecting beyond
the other, are so many characteristics of a mixed style, when the rude
dangers of the timber houses became progressively intermingled with the
massive architecture of a subsequent period; and the external use of
timber in the walls continued to prevail for a very long time.
Beaconsfield Rectory, of the sixteenth century, has the basement story
completely built of glazed bricks in chequered patterns; the
superincumbent story has elevated roofs and gables, and is constructed
with massive timbers placed near together, and plastered between. The
staircase, which is semi-cylindrical and composed of timber, is added to
the north side of the house. The entire structure forms three sides of a
quadrangle, with a lofty wall and entrance on the fourth; its interior
is rude and massive.
In an account of a topographical excursion in 1634, the hall of
Kenilworth is described with a roof "all of Irish wood, neatly and
handsomely framed;" in it are five chimneys, "answerable to so great a
room:" then we read of the Guard, Presence, and Privy chambers, fretted
above richly with coats of arms, and all adorned with fair and rich
chimney-pieces of alabaster, black marble, and joiners' work in
curiously carved wood; all the fair and rich rooms and lodgings in the
spacious tower not long since built, and repaired at great cost by
Leicester. "The priuate, plaine, retiring-chamber wherein or renowned
Queene of euer famous memory, alwayes made choice to repose her Selfe.
Also the famous, strong old tower, called Julius Cæsar's, on top whereof
was view'd the pleasant, large Poole continually sporting and playing on
the Castle: the Parke, and the fforest contiguous thereto." Kenilworth
has been already described at pp. 101-103.
Many a middle-aged reader can recollect the disappearance of rows of
gabled houses, with timber and plaster fronts, from the metropolis:
great part of the High-street of Southwark, built in this manner, was
taken down between 1810 and 1831; at the latter period, some houses with
ornamental plaster fronts disappeared. In Chancery-lane, a very old
thoroughfare, several houses of this class have been taken down within
memory; and many an old house-front, with ornamental carving, is missed
from the Strand; a few linger in Holywell-street and Wych-street. And,
in 1865, was taken down one side of Great Winchester-street, stated to
be one of the oldest specimens of domestic architecture remaining in the
metropolis. The casement hung on hinges was the earliest form of window,
properly so called. Sash-windows were not introduced till the early part
of the reign of Charles I., and were not general till the latter part of
the time of Queen Anne.
In the construction of farm-houses and cottages there have been,
probably, fewer changes than in large mansions. Cottages in England seem
to have generally consisted of a single room, without division of
stories. The Spaniards who came to England in Queen Mary's time,
wondered when they saw the large diet used by the inmates of the most
homely-looking cottages. "The English, they said, make their houses of
sticks and dirt, but they fare as well as the king; whereby it appeareth
(says Harrison), that they like better of our goode fare in such coarse
cabins, than of their own thin diet in their princelike habitations and
palaces."
In various counties we can scarcely fail to be struck with the
difference in the forms of the cottages, as in the height of the
building, the pitch of the roof, as well as the materials. Only let the
traveller on the Brighton railway look out after he has passed Redhill,
and he may see evidence of the truth of the above remark. Cobbett has
left us this charming picture of the Sussex cottages in one of his
_Rural Rides_:--
"I never had," he writes, "that I recollect, a more pleasant
journey, or ride, than this into Sussex. The weather was pleasant,
the elder-trees in full bloom, and they make a fine show; the
woods just in their greatest beauty; the grass-fields generally
uncut; and the little gardens of the labourers full of flowers;
the roses and honeysuckles perfuming the air at every cottage
door. Throughout all England, these cottages and gardens are the
most interesting objects that the country presents, and they are
particularly so in Kent and Sussex. This part of these counties
has the great blessing of numerous woods; these furnish fuel,
nice, sweet fuel, for the heating of ovens and all other purposes:
they afford materials for the making of pretty pigsties, hurdles,
and dead fences, of various sorts; they afford materials for
making little cow-sheds; for the sticking of peas and beans in the
gardens; and for giving to everything a neat and substantial
appearance. These gardens, and the look of the cottages, the
little flower-gardens, which you everywhere see, and the beautiful
hedges of thorn and of privet,--these are the objects to delight
the eyes, to gladden the heart, and to fill it with gratitude to
God, and love for the people; and as far as my observation has
gone, they are objects to be seen in no other country in the
world. Those who see nothing but the nasty, slovenly places in
which labourers live round London, know nothing of England. The
fruit-trees are all kept in the nicest order; every bit of paling
or wall is made use of, for the training of some sort or other. At
Lamberhurst, which is one of the most beautiful villages that ever
man set his eyes on, I saw what I never saw before, namely, _a
gooseberry-tree trained against a house_. The house was one of
those ancient buildings, consisting of a frame of oak-wood, the
interval filled up with brick, plastered over. The tree had been
planted at the foot of one of the perpendicular pieces of wood;
from the stem which mounted up this piece of wood were taken side
limbs, to run along the horizontal pieces. There were two windows,
round the frame of each of which the limbs had been trained. The
height of the highest shoot was about ten feet from the ground,
and the horizontal shoots from each side were from eight to ten
feet in length. The tree had been judiciously pruned, and all the
limbs were full of very large gooseberries, considering the age of
the fruit. This is only one instance out of thousands that I saw
of extraordinary pains taken with the gardens."
Those who love the picturesque will excuse our halting to sketch an
episode from the history of the royal forest of Ashdown, in Sussex, once
possessed by John of Gaunt, and hence called "Lancaster great Park."
Upon the borders of the forest lies the manor of Brambertie of Domesday,
and Brambletye of Horace Smith; the home of the Comptons, and in the
tale of fiction, as in fact, dismantled by Parliament troopers, and
within two centuries a ruin. Richard Lewknor is the first person
described as of Brambletye. He most probably built in one of the forest
glens the moated mansion known as "Old Brambletye House," which, with
its gables and clustered chimneys, and its moat and drawbridge, long
remained an interesting specimen of the fortified manor-house of the
reign of Henry VII. We remember the old place, some sixty years since,
but it has long been taken down. Towards the middle of the seventeenth
century, Brambletye came into the possession of the Comptons, an ancient
Roman Catholic family; and here Sir Henry Compton built himself, from
an Italian design, another Brambletye House, of the white stone of the
country. Over the principal entrance to the mansion were sculptured the
coat-armour of Compton, with the arms of Spencer, in a shield, on the
dexter side: and on the upper story was cut in stone, C. H. M. 1631.
This fixes the period when the house was built; and when Sir Henry
Compton, who had before inhabited the old moated house in the
neighbourhood, abandoned it to take up his residence in this once
elegant and substantial baronial mansion.
From the court-rolls of the manor, it does not appear who succeeded the
Comptons in the property; but Sir James Rickards, in his patent of
baronetcy, 1683-4, is described as of Brambletye House. The story goes,
that "a proprietor of the mansion being suspected of treasonable
purposes, officers of justice were dispatched to search the premises,
when a considerable quantity of arms and military stores was discovered
and removed; he was out hunting at the time, but receiving intimation of
the circumstance, deemed it most prudent to abscond." The historical
version is, that in the Civil War, Sir John Compton, a true Royalist,
took an active part against the Parliament armies: although never
capable of any regular defence, yet Brambletye, being partially
fortified, refused the summons of the Parliamentary Colonel Okey, by
whom it was invested and speedily taken. The mansion was subsequently
deserted. From a sketch taken in 1780, the principal front was nearly
entire: it consisted of three square towers, the entrance doorway being
in the central tower; the two wings had handsome bay-windows; the three
towers were surmounted with cupolas and weather-vanes; but one had half
its cupola shattered away, and was internally blackened, as if with
gunpowder. In front of the house were an inclosed courtyard and two
entrance-gates, one flanked by two massive, square towers, with cupolas.
Horace Smith having named his romance _Brambletye House_, the opening
scenes being laid there, has sent hundreds of tourists to pic-nic among
the ruins; but the spoilers were constantly at work. Some fifteen years
ago, "all that remained of Brambletye House was one of the towers
clothed with stately ivy, and little more than one story of each of the
other towers; the intervening portions, with their bay-windows, had
disappeared. Nature had, however, lent a helping hand: by the shrubby
trees and the ivy, the ruins had gained that picturesqueness which so
often lends a graceful charm to scenes of decaying art."[40]