It has been well observed of the Evelyn family, that "rarely do we read
of people who so admirably combined a love of rural life with
literature." Studious retirement, not isolation, was what John Evelyn
sought; and nowhere did he so delightfully enjoy his tastes as at Wotton
House or Place in Surrey. This "great Virtuoso," as Aubrey called him,
has left us the following account of his family, and of their first
settlement at Wotton:--"We have not been at Wotton (purchased of one
Owen, a great rich man) above 160 years. My great grandfather came from
Long Ditton (the seat now of Sir Edward Eveylin), where we had been long
before; and to Long Ditton from Harrow-on-the-Hill; and many years
before that, from Evelyn, near Tower Castle, Shropshire. There are of
our name in France and Italy, written _Ivelyn_, _Avelin_: and in old
deeds I find _Avelyn_, alias _Evelyn_. One of our name was taken
prisoner at the battle of Agincourt. When the Duchess of Orleans came to
Dover to see the King [Charles II.], one of our name (whose family
derives itself from Lusignan, king of Cyprus) claimed relation to us. We
have in our family a tradition of a great sum of money, that had been
given for the ransom of a French lord, with which a great estate was
purchased; but these things are all mystical."
Wotton House, placed in a valley south-west of Dorking, though really
upon a part of Leith Hill, was first erected in the reign of Queen
Elizabeth. Here, on October 31, 1620, was born John Evelyn, "_Sylva_
Evelyn," as he was called from the title of his valuable work on
Forest-trees. When four years old, he was taught at the porch of Wotton
Church. He then learnt Latin in a school at Lewes; whence his father
proposed to send him to Eton, but he was terrified at the reported
severity of the discipline there, and he was again sent to Lewes, which
he "afterwards a thousand times deplored." In 1636 he was admitted to
the Middle Temple; whence he removed to Balliol College, Oxford. He
returned to London in 1640; but on the death of his father he
relinquished all thoughts of legal practice.
Mr. Evelyn, thus become his own master, purposed a life of studious
seclusion, and actually commenced making a kind of hermitage at Wotton,
at that period the seat of his eldest brother. The park is watered by a
winding stream, and is backed by a magnificent range of beech-woods: the
goodly oaks were cut down by John Evelyn's grandfather, and birch has
taken the place of beech in many cases; but we trace to this day
Evelyn's hollies, "a _viretum_ all the year round;" and the noble
planting of the author of _Sylva_, who describes the house as "large and
ancient, suitable to those hospitable times, and so sweetly environed
with delicious streams and venerable woods. It has rising grounds,
meadows, woods, and water in abundance.... I should speak much of the
gardens, fountains, and groves that adorne it, were they not generally
known to be amongst the most natural (until this later and universal
luxury of the whole nation, since abounding in such expenses), the most
magnificent that England afforded, and which, indeed, gave one of the
first examples of that elegancy since so much in vogue, and followed in
the managing of their waters, and other ornaments of that nature."
Evelyn, by whom, in his brother's lifetime, the chief improvements in
these grounds were directed, thus speaks of their origin in his _Diary_,
under the date 1643, after the disastrous contest had commenced between
the King and the Parliament:--"Resolving to possess myself in some
quiet, if it might be, in a time of so great jealousy, I built, by my
brother's permission, a _study_, made a _fish-pond_, and an _island_,
and some other solitudes and retirements at Wotton; which gave the first
occasion to those water-works and gardens which afterwards succeeded
them."
Further alterations were made in 1652, and are thus described:--"I went
with my brother Evelyn to Wotton to give him what directions I was able
about his garden, which he was now desirous to put into some forme; but
for which he was to remove a mountaine overgrowne with huge trees and
thicket, with a moate within ten yards of the house. This my brother
immediately attempted, and that without greate coste; for more than a
hundred yards south, by digging down the mountaine, and flinging it into
a rapid streame, it not only carried away the sand, &c., but filled up
the moate, and levelled that noble area, where now the garden and
fountaine is."
In 1641, Evelyn, tired of this seclusion, made a tour in France and the
Netherlands, in which he appears to have gathered from observation such
knowledge of Gardening as led him into its systematic study. He
describes the Tuileries as rarely contrived for privacy, shade, or
company; and he specially describes a labyrinth of cypress, with an
artificial echo, "redoubling the words distinctly, and never without
some fair nymph singing to it." "Standing at one of the focuses, which
is under a tree, or little cabinet of hedges, the voice seems to descend
from the clouds; at another, as if it was underground." He tells us,
too, of the curious garden of the Archbishop of Paris, at St. Cloud,
with a Mount Parnassus, and a grotto, or "shell-house," on the top of
the hill, the walls painted with the Muses, many statues placed about
it, and within, "divers water-works, and contrivances to wet the
spectators," reminding one of the famous copper-tube willow-tree at
Chatsworth. Evelyn speaks of the Luxembourg Gardens as a paradise, where
the Duke of Orleans kept tortoises in great numbers. The young traveller
was charmed with the gardens of Italy; and at Padua he bought, for
winter provision, three thousand weight of grapes, and pressed his own
wine, which proved excellent.
Faithful to the Crown, Mr. Evelyn (who had become a volunteer in an
English regiment serving in Flanders) joined the King's army at
Brentford; but that he had not the temperament of a hero we may judge
from the fact that, on the day before the battle of Edgehill was fought,
after seeing Portsmouth delivered up to Sir William Waller, "he was able
to make a careful archæological survey of the city of Winchester, calmly
noting its castle, church, school, and King Arthur's Round Table."
Knowing this characteristic trait, we are not surprised that he left his
distracted country for the pleasures of foreign travel. On returning
from Italy he visited Paris, and at the English Embassy met his future
wife, the daughter of the Ambassador, Sir Richard Browne. He married
her when she was little more than fourteen, and some months afterwards
left her, as he admits, "still very young," under the appropriate care
of her mother, whilst he transacted business in England. The Prince de
Condé besieged Paris, and a year and a half elapsed before Evelyn
rejoined his wife.
Upon their return to England, they took up their abode at Sayes Court,
the property of Sir Richard Browne, whose estate had been considerably
curtailed during the Commonwealth. It was wholly unadorned. Here, from a
field of one hundred acres in pasture, Evelyn formed a garden, which was
an exemplar of his _Sylva_, with a hedge of holly, 400 feet long, 9 feet
high, and 5 feet thick. He began immediately to set out an oval garden,
which was "the beginning of all the succeeding gardens, walks, groves,
enclosures, and plantations there;" and he planted an orchard, "new
moon, wind west." Evelyn next planned a royal garden to comprehend
"knots, trayle-work, parterres, compartments, borders, banks, and
embossments, labyrinths, dedals, cabinets, cradles, close-walks,
galleries, pavilions, porticoes, lanterns, and other relievos of topiary
and hortular architecture; fountains, cascades, piscines, rocks, grotts,
cryptæ, mounts, precipices, and ventiducts; gazon-theatres, artificial
echoes, automate and hydraulic music."
When Evelyn left Sayes to pass the remainder of his days at Wotton, he
let the former estate, first to Admiral Benbow, and next to the Czar
Peter, to be near the King's dockyard, (through the wall of which a
doorway was broken), that he might learn shipbuilding, but the Czar and
his retinue damaged the house and gardens to the extent of 150_l_. in
three weeks. A portion of the Victualling-yard now occupies the place of
Evelyn's shady walks and trim hedges; on the site of the manor-house
stands the parish workhouse of Dieptford and Stroud; and an adjoining
thoroughfare is named Evelyn-street.
Evelyn may have been misled in ornamental gardening by the taste of his
age, but there was nothing to mislead him in that useful branch of the
art which supplies the table with its luxuries, and which in his time
received considerable improvement. Here we may mention that in 1664
Evelyn published the first Gardeners' Almanack, containing directions
for the employment of each month. This was dedicated to Cowley, and drew
from him, in acknowledgment, one of his best pieces, entitled _The
Garden_; in the prefix to which he says:--"I never had any other desire
so strong, and so like to covetousness, as that one which I have had
always, that I might be master at last of a small house and large
garden, with very moderate conveniences joined to them, and there
dedicate the remainder of my life only to the culture of them, and the
study of nature."
In 1694, Mr. Evelyn went to Wotton, with his brother George. In 1696-7,
he says:--"I am planting an evergreen grove here to an old house ready
to drop." In the great storm of 1703, above 2,000 goodly oaks were blown
down. The woods of Wotton have since suffered greatly from high winds,
particularly in November 1837, when many hundred trees were laid low
during a violent storm.
In his _Sylva_, Evelyn thus deplores the former devastation: "Methinks
that I still hear, sure I am that I feel, the _dismal groans_ of our
forests, when that late dreadful Hurricane, happening on the 26th of
November, 1703, subverted as many thousands of goodly Oaks, prostrating
the trees, laying them in ghastly postures, like whole regiments fallen
in battle by the sword of the conqueror, and crushing all that grew
beneath them. Myself had 2,000 blown down; several of which, torn up by
their fall, raised mounds of earth, near 20 feet high, with great stones
intangled among the roots and rubbish, and this almost within sight of
my dwelling;--now no more Wotton [Wood-town], stripped and naked, and
almost ashamed to own its name."
In the _Diary_, the same calamity is thus noticed: "The effects of the
Hurricane and tempest of wind, rain, and lightning thro' all the nation,
especially London, were very dismal. Many houses demolished, and people
killed. As to my own losses, the submersion of woods and timber, both
ornamental and valuable, through my whole estate, and about my house,
the woods crowning the garden mount, and growing along the Park meadow,
the damage to my own dwelling, farms, and outhouses, is almost tragical,
not to be parallel'd with anything happening in our age. I am not able
to describe it, but submit to the pleasure of Almighty God."
Notwithstanding these losses, Evelyn's brother would not depart from the
oeconomy and hospitality of the old house, but, "_more veterum_, kept
a Christmas in which they had not fewer than 300 bumpkins every
holiday."
We find recorded among the Curiosities of the place, an oaken plank "of
prodigious amplitude," cut out of a tree which grew on this estate, and
was felled by Evelyn's grandfather's orders. Its dimensions, when "made
a pastry-board" at Wotton, were more than five feet in breadth, nine
feet and a half in length, and six inches in thickness; and it had been
"abated by one foot," to suit it to the size of the room wherein it was
placed.
Upon the death of his brother, in 1699, without any surviving male
issue, John Evelyn became possessor of the paternal estates. Wotton
House, built of fine red brick, has been enlarged by various members of
the Evelyn family. Hence the absence of uniformity in the plan of the
house, and within our recollection it has parted with many of its olden
features. The apartments are, however, convenient, and realize the
comforts of an English gentleman's proper house and home. An etching by
John Evelyn shows the mansion in 1653.
Through the valley at Wotton winds a rivulet which was formerly of much
importance. Evelyn, in a letter to Aubrey, dated 8th of February, 1675,
says that "on the stream near his house formerly stood many
powder-mills, erected by his ancestors, who were the very first that
brought that invention into England; before which we had all our powder
from Flanders." He gives an account of one of these mills blowing up,
which broke a beam, fifteen inches in diameter, at Wotton Place; and
states that one standing lower down towards Sheire, on blowing up, "shot
a piece of timber through a cottage, which took off a poor woman's head,
as she was spinning." Besides these mills, were brass, fulling, and
hammering mills.
The Evelyns possess much land in the adjoining parish of Abinger; and
the seat of the Scarletts, Abinger Hall, gave the title to Lord Chief
Baron Scarlett. Originally, it was a small dwelling at the foot of the
Downs, belonging to the Dibble family, of whom it was purchased in the
reign of George II. by Catherine Forbes, Countess of Donegal, who was
the daughter of Arthur, Earl of Granard, and had the honour of being
complimented by Dean Swift, in the following lines:--
"Unerring Heaven, with bounteous hand,
Has form'd a Model for your Land,
Whom Love bestow'd, with every grace,
The glory of the Granard race;
Now destined by the powers Divine
The blessing of another Line.
Then, would you paint a matchless Dame,
Whom you'd consign to endless fame,
Invoke not Cytherea's aid,
Nor borrow from the Blue-eyed Maid,
Nor need you on the Graces call;
Take qualities from DONEGAL."
Abinger Church is of considerable antiquity, and has a higher site than
any other church in the county: indeed, Aubrey conjectures the parish to
be named from _Abin_, an eminence, or rising ground. The church was
carefully restored in 1857. The west end is of the Norman period; the
nave Early English; the altar has sedilia, and formerly had a piscina;
and on the north side is a chancel belonging to the Wotton estate, and
restored at the expense of Mr. Evelyn: here is a small organ. The
altar-window of three lights has been filled with painted glass by
O'Connor, a very meritorious work. In the churchyard in a vault are
interred Lord Chief Baron Abinger, and his first wife: to the latter
there is a marble monument on the inner wall of the chancel. His
Lordship married secondly the widow of the Rev. Henry John Ridley, a
descendant of Bishop Ridley, the Protestant martyr; and among the
relics of that devout churchman which descended to Lady Abinger, was the
chair in which the Bishop used to study.
On the east side of the churchyard is a small green, on which are stocks
and a whipping-post; but these, to the honour of the parish, are
believed never to have been used.
There was a Mill at Abinger at the time of the Domesday Survey; and it
is not improbable that the present corn and flour mill, at a short
distance from the road, may occupy the same site. To return to Wotton
House.
The interior of the old place, with its oddly-planned rooms, its quaint
carvings, its pictures, more especially the portraits of the Evelyn
family, is a most enjoyable nook. The author of _Sylva_, by Kneller,
will be recognised as the original of the engraved frontispiece to
Evelyn's _Diary_, by economy of printing now become a household book.
Among the Wotton relics, of special historic interest, are the
Prayer-book used by Charles I. on the scaffold; a pinch of the powder
laid by Guido Fawkes and his fellow-conspirators to blow up the
Parliament; a curious account, in John Evelyn's hand, of the mode in
which the Chancellor Clarendon transacted business with his royal
master; several letters of John Evelyn, and his account (recently found)
of the expense of his building Milton House, which occupied four years:
the house remains to this day. The library of printed books and
pamphlets is curious and extensive. Evelyn was a most laborious
annotator, never employing an amanuensis: among his MSS. is a Bible in
three volumes, the margins filled with closely-written notes.
John Evelyn died at his house (called _the Head_) in Dover-street,
Piccadilly, Feb. 27, 1705-6. His remains were interred in Wotton Church:
his lady surviving him until 1708-9; when, dying, in her seventy-fourth
year, she was buried near him in the chancel. It was Evelyn's wish to
have been interred in the Laurel Grove, planted by him at Wotton: this
wish was expressed in his Will: "otherwise," he says, "let my grave be
in the Corner of the Dormitory of my Ancestors." This was done; and in
digging the new Vault was found "an entire skeleton, of gigantick
stature."
In all the characters of child, wife, mother, and mistress, Mrs. Evelyn,
quiet and unassuming as she was, shone forth pre-eminently. Her trials
were many and heavy; her heart was torn with the death of child after
child, some in infancy, some in ripe age when they had grown to be the
pride and stay of their parents. All died, one by one, out of that
numerous progeny, till only a daughter, Mrs. Draper, was left, and the
bereaved pair were alone in their old age in the wide old mansion at
Wotton. Nothing can exceed the touching pathos of those few words in
Mrs. Evelyn's will, where, after desiring that her coffin might be
placed near to that of her dear husband, whose death preceded hers by
three years, she adds:--"Whose love and friendship I was happy in,
fifty-eight years nine months; but by God's providence left a desolate
widow, the 27th day of February, 1705, in the seventy-first year of my
age."
Mrs. Evelyn had acquired the more polished manners of French society
without losing her naturally simple tastes. That she cannot have formed
a favourable opinion of English refinement we know from the contrast
which her husband draws between the two countries in his _Characters of
England_, written when they returned from the Continent.
Mrs. Evelyn was an experienced housewife, and had a special eye "to the
care of cakes, stilling, and sweetmeats, and such useful things." "The
hospitality of Sayes Court, which was accepted by royalty and extended
to _savans_, divines, and men of letters, was not withheld from the
country neighbours at Deptford." Certainly, her own words depict her
practice, for she considered "the care of children's education,
observing a husband's commands, assisting the sick, relieving the poor,
and being serviceable to her friends, of sufficient weight to employ the
most improved capacities." That Mrs. Evelyn had close insight into
character and great nicety of judgment, we learn from her
contemporaries, as also that her "great discernment and wit" were never
abused. Ever sedate and kindly, she bore a succession of family
bereavements with Christian resignation.
At Wotton, many curious memorials remain. Adjacent to the house are the
conservatory, flower-garden, the former stored with curious exotic and
native plants and flowers, and the latter embellished with a fountain, a
temple, or colonnade, and an elevated turfed mount, cut into terraces;
and here, enclosed within a brick wall, is all that remains of Evelyn's
flower-garden, which was to have formed one of the principal objects in
his "Elysium Britannicum." His _Diary_ is well known; and his _Sylva_ is
a beautiful and enduring memorial of his amusements, his occupations,
and his studies, his private happiness and his public virtues. Many
millions of timber-trees have been propagated and planted at the
instigation and by the sole direction of that book--one of the few books
in the world which completely effected what it was designed to do. While
Britain [says D'Israeli the elder] retains her awful situation among the
nations of Europe, the _Sylva_ of Evelyn will endure with her triumphant
oaks. It was an author in his studious retreat, who, casting a prophetic
eye on the age we live in, secured the late victories of our naval
sovereignty. Inquire at the Admiralty how the fleets of Nelson have been
constructed, and they can tell you that it was with the oaks which the
genius of Evelyn planted.
Persons who are familiar with the picturesque environs of Dorking will
remember Milton House, which was built at Evelyn's expense. It is now
called Milton Court, and is about a mile west of the town. It is of red
brick, and has a grand staircase with massive supports and balusters, a
great hall, and many noble rooms. The house was let some years since in
tenements to poor families. It has since been restored and furnished in
the style of the period. Its history has a literary interest. For nearly
a quarter of a century it was the abode of Jeremiah Markland, a model
critic "for modesty, candour, literary honesty, and courteousness to
other scholars." He will be remembered as one of the eminent Grecians of
Christ's Hospital. He lived in bachelorship at Milton Court, among his
books; or, as his pupil, Strode, tells us, "In 1752, being grown old,
and having, moreover, long and painful fits of the gout, he was glad to
find, what his inclination and infirmities, which made him unfit for the
world and company, had for a long time led him to--a very private place
of retirement, near Dorking, in Surrey." In this sequestered spot
Markland saw little company: his walks were almost confined to the
garden at the back of the house; and he described himself, in 1755, to
be "as much out of the way of hearing as of getting." We have more than
once enjoyed the elysium of the old scholar's garden. But troubles came
to disturb his peace. Markland had not the rambling old house to
himself. His landlady, the widow Rose, got into a lawsuit with her son,
when Jeremiah distressed himself to aid the widow in the suit, which she
lost; and after that Markland spent his whole fortune in relieving the
distresses of the Rose family. This led him to accept an annuity from
his former pupil, Strode. Markland died at Milton Court in 1776, in his
eighty-third year; and Strode placed a brass plate in the chancel of
Dorking Church in memory of the learning and virtue of Markland. He left
his books and papers to Dr. Heberden. The story of old Jeremiah's
charity is very naïve:--"Poor as I am," said he, "I would rather have
pawned the coat on my back than have left the afflicted good woman and
her children to starve,"--an episode of charity and friendship which has
its sweet uses.
There are two ancient objects at Milton. The water-mill, adjoining the
green, is believed to be that mentioned in the survey of the manor, in
Domesday book; and on Milton-heath, upon an elevated spot, is a
_Tumulus_, now distinguished by a clump of firs; and near it is
_War_-field. The name of the adjoining estate, Bury Hill, makes us, as
Miss Hawkins observes, "seek, in our walks, the very footmarks of the
Roman soldier."