As we proceed towards Barnard Castle, we suddenly come into view of the
Castle of Raby. The road brings us within a few hundred yards of it.
Its grey extent of towers rises before us, with its park, well peopled
with herds of deer, stretching around it. Comparatively flat again as
is the situation, and which would seem to have been better liked by
the Nevilles than more hilly and romantic ones, there is nothing that
we recollect to have seen anywhere which impresses us at the first
view with a stronger feeling of the old feudal grandeur. It stands in
its antiquity and vastness, the fitting abode of the mighty Nevilles.
We can almost imagine that we shall find them still inhabiting it.
The royal Joan, walking with her maidens on the green terrace that
surrounds it, or the first great Earl of Westmoreland setting out with
all his train, to scour its wide chases and dales for the deer, or
to proceed to the Marches to chastise the boldness of the Scots. The
exterior of the whole place has been well preserved in its true ancient
character; it is the great, grey, and stately feudal castle,
“With all its lands and towers.”
Pennant, when he visited it, had a proper feeling of its exterior.
“It is a noble massy building of its kind, uninjured by any modern
strokes inconsistent with the general taste of the edifice; but, simply
magnificent, it strikes by its magnitude, and that idea of strength
and command naturally annexed to the view of vast walls, lofty towers,
battlements, and the surrounding outworks of an old baron’s residence.
The building itself, besides the courts, covers an acre of land; the
size may from this be concluded. The south front is very beautiful; the
centre is from a design of Inigo Jones; nothing in the Gothic taste can
be more elegant than the style and proportion of the windows. The rooms
are very numerous, and more modern in their proportion and distribution
than one would easily conceive to be possible within the walls of so
ancient a building; but by means of numerous passages and closets,
many of which have been scooped out of the walls, and back-stairs, the
apartments are extremely convenient, well connected, and at the same
time perfectly distinct. Several improvements have been lately made,
which add greatly to the spaciousness and convenience of the apartments
in general. The bed-chambers and dressing-rooms are of a good size
and proportion, and some of the lower apartments large, and elegantly
fitted up. One of the drawing-rooms is thirty feet by twenty, and the
adjoining dining-room is fifty-one by twenty-one; the windows of both
of plate glass, and in the smallest and lightest of brass frames,” etc.
[Illustration: RABY CASTLE, ENGLAND.]
It is, in fact, this complete adaptation to modern uses and splendour,
which disappoints one in the interior of Raby. The exterior is so
fine, so feudal, so antiquely great, that when we step in and find
ourselves at once in modern drawing-rooms, with silken couches and
gilt cornices, the Nevilles and their times vanish. We forget again
that we are at Raby, the Castle of the victims of Neville’s Cross, and
of Joan, the daughter of John of Gaunt, and feel that we are only in
the saloons of the modern Duke of Cleveland. We revert to the quaint
description of Leland, and wish that we could see it as he did. “Raby
is the largest castel of logginges in all the north countery, and is of
a strong building; but not set either on hill, or very strong ground.
As I enterid by a causey into it, there was a litle stayre on the right
honde; and in the first area, were but two towers on a ech ende as
entres, and no other buildid. In the 2 area, as in entring was a great
gate of iren, with a tour, and 2 or 3 mo on the right hond. These were
all the three toures of the 3 court, as in the hart of the castel.
The haul and al the houses of office be large and stately, and in the
haul I saw an incredible great leame of an hart. The great chambre was
exceeding large, but now it is fals rofid, and divided into 2 or 3
partes. I saw ther a litle chambre wherein was in windowes of colorid
glasse al the petigre of the Nevilles; but it is now taken down and
glasid with clere glasse. Ther is a tour in the castel having the mark
of 2 capital Bs for Bertram Bulmer. Ther is another towr bering the
name of Jane, bastard sister to Henry IV., and wife to Rafe Neville,
the first Erl of Westmerland. Ther ’long 3 parkes to Raby, whereof 2 be
plenished with dere. The midle park hath a lodge in it; and thereby is
a chace, bering the name of Langeley, and hath fallowe dere. It is a 3
miles in length.”
It is, in fact, these old towers; these old courts; this great
baronial hall, and the kitchen, that are objects of real interest
in Raby; remnants of its antiquity, the co-temporaries of those who
stamped them with the feeling of belonging to them and their fortunes.
The Cliffords’ tower, and the tower of Bertram Bulmer, let us ascend to
them, and gaze over the parks and glades of Raby, to the far distant
scenes that once formed the princely possessions of the Nevilles. Near
the top of this tower, which stands separated from the rest of the
building, and to which you ascend by eighty-nine steps, are raised
those old letters, the initials of Bertram Bulmer, mentioned by Leland,
and a splendid prospect south eastward lies before you. Conscliff,
Darlington, Sadberge, Long-Newton, Stockton, with the Cleveland Hills
and “Black” Hamilton. From other points of the castle you catch equally
noble and far views--the distant mountains of Hope and Arkendale, and
westward the vale filled with the woods of Streatlam and Lady Close.
Carriages can pass through the large Gothic saloon, or entrance hall
into the interior court. Above the saloon is the old baronial hall,
which forms one side of the square of the inner area. It is of the
most magnificent proportions--ninety feet in length, thirty-six in
breadth, and thirty-four in height. The roof is flat and made of
wood; the joints ornamented with shields of arms of the family of the
Nevilles. Here, it is said, assembled in their time, 700 knights who
held of that family. A gallery of stone crosses the west end of this
room used in ancient times for music, and that mimicry with which our
ancestors were so much pleased. Unfortunately, here again our notions
of the old times are completely disturbed. This roof, which no doubt is
of real oak, is now smartly painted oak; and this hall, which should
only display massy furniture, suits of armour, and arms and banners
properly disposed, is converted into a museum of stuffed birds, Indian
dresses, and a heap of things which may be better and more numerously
seen elsewhere. In fact, any ordinary room of this many-roomed castle
might have served this need. The kitchen, however, remains in all its
huge and unalloyed antiquity. “It is,” says Pennant, “a magnificent
and lofty square; has three chimneys--one for the grate, a second for
stoves, the third for the great cauldrons. The top is arched, and
a small cupola lights it in the centre; but on the sides are five
windows, with a gallery passing all round before them, and four steps
from each pointing down into the kitchen, but ending a great height
above the floor. There have been many conjectures respecting their use,
but they certainly must have been in some manner for the conveying away
of viands. From the floor is another staircase, that conducts to the
great hall, but the passage is now stopped. What hecatombs must have
been carried that way!” To this account must be added, that the kitchen
is a square of thirty feet; the side where no chimney is, opens into
the larders; opposite to the grate, the steps descend to the floor,
and are wide enough for three persons abreast. On each of the other
sides, to the right and left of the grate, are two windows, with five
steps descending, but not low enough to enable the persons who should
stand thereon to receive anything from those in the kitchen. There are
narrow passages channeled in the walls, but not capacious enough, we
conceive, to allow a person to bear a dish of provisions for the 700
knights and retainers of the Nevilles. Yet we may very well imagine,
that in the hurry and confusion of such a dining, those windows and
descending steps might be very serviceable for the delivery of orders,
and the passages in the walls for enabling one bustling person to avoid
another. Besides, they might have some contrivance by a pulley or so,
to raise the dishes to the person on the steps. Be that as it may, the
kitchen is a right ancient and singular relic of the genuine baronial
time.
The park has many fine woods, glades, and lawns, and gives prospects of
far beauty, but its aspect partakes of the character of the interior of
the castle--newness. We are surprised to see so little timber bearing
a relative antiquity to the castle. The trees are comparatively young.
You see groups and plantations of a very modern date. The whole has
the air rather of a place new made, than of one old as the days of
Canute, who is said to have built some part of the original house.
You do not see those old, grey, and gnarled oaks around you that you
see in the forests of Sherwood, Needwood--Chartley and other parks.
It seems as if some great revolution, as is the fact, has passed over
it; and that in its days of change, the axe of the spoiler has laid
low its ancient forests. The castle looks like a grey patriarch left
amid a more juvenile race. Let us rejoice that the strong wall of the
stout old Nevilles have defied the ravages of politics as well as of
time, and that future generations may see in them a fine example of
what the habitation of the great old English noble was. For my part,
I looked on the old house with eyes of affection. It had, through the
beautiful ballad of the _Hermit of Warkworth_, been to me a dream
of youthful poetry. I was carried back into the days when at school we
chanted that lovely poem over, day by day, under sunny walls and in our
walks, and even at night when we should have been asleep. There was
in it a spirit so pure, so refined, so delicate, so full of beauty,
of love, and of heroic magnanimity, that it mingled itself entirely
with the pulses of our hearts, because our hearts were then like it
in soul, in temperament, and in imaginative freedom. What dales of
Northumberland--what mountains, and glens, and chieftains’ towers of
Scotland, did it not bring to our spirits’ vision! With what eagerness
did we follow the forlorn Sir Bertram and his brother, in their
northern quest for the lost fair Isabel of Widrington. How did we weep
over the catastrophe!--and when the young Earl Percy and his lovely
bride, of the house of Neville, appeared for our comfort, how earnestly
did we follow the venerable prior who, to propitiate the princely
parents of Eleanor,
“Then straight to Raby’s distant walls
Did kindly wend his way.”