[1] The windows formerly contained some rare specimens of painted glass, which the late proprietor permitted a clerical friend to abstract for the purpose of decorating a neighbouring church.

[2] Fuller states that Sir John Huddleston “was highly honoured by Queen Mary, and deservedly. Such was the trust reposed in him, that when Jane Grey was proclaimed Queen, she came privately to him at Sawston, and rid thence behind his servant, the better to disguise herself from discovery, to Framlingham. She afterwards made him, as I have heard, her Privy Councillor; and besides other great boons, bestowed the bigger part of Cambridge Castle, then in ruins, upon him, with the stone whereof he built his fair house in this county.”

[3] A singular tradition, alluded to by Camden, has long prevailed, that previously to the death of a heir of the house of Brereton, trunks of trees were observed to rise from the bottom of the lake of the neighbouring Bog Mere, and to float for several days. One historian of Cheshire, sensible of the credulity of the great antiquary, would resolve the pleasant dream of olden fancy by the laws of modern statics.

[4] Brereton is the “Bracebridge Hall” of Washington Irving.

[5] The Cheshire carpenters of old seem to have been not sparingly endowed with the “noble” aspiration. In an inscription on the fine carved oak ceiling of the neighbouring Church of Astbury, bearing date 1616 and 1617, in which occurs the name of a William Moreton, we have that also of Richard Lowndes, Carpenter;—his work, however, is of no mean desert.

[6] Hales and Tonkin state, that “about the middle of the fourteenth century the Treffry family largely contributed towards the building of the church, and erected, adjoining to it, a magnificent castellated mansion for their own residence.” We imagine there is an error in the date of this, and should rather refer it to the middle of the fifteenth century, after the French had destroyed the town; which they did about the year 1453.

[7] The following inscription upon the tomb of one of them was “formerly in the Church:”—

“According to the tablet in the church (we quote from the ‘Border Antiquities’ of Sir Walter Scott), this was a monastery of St. Augustine, and founded in 1116; but no mention of it in the records occurs earlier than the 16th of Henry II., 1169. Its endowments consisted of all the lands lying between Picts’ Wall and Irthing, and also between Burgh and Poltross, and several other valuable possessions. Bernard, Bishop of Carlisle, dedicated the Church to Mary Magdalen. * * * * Edward I. granted to the Prior and Convent the advowson of two churches in his patronage, because the Priory had been burnt and the lands ravaged by an incursion of the Scots. He wrote an epistle to the Pope, expressly to obtain his sanction to this grant, which was not withheld. Many other liberal donations were made to this monastery, and some of them exhibited the peculiar character of the times—such as the tithes of venison, and the skins of deer and foxes; tithe of the mulcture of a mill, pasture for milking and sheep, the bark of trees, a well or spring, and sundry villeins their issue and goods.”

[8] The sad death of this “last Lord Dacre” is thus recorded by Stow. The event occurred on the 17th of May, 1559.

“He was by a great mischaunce slayne at Thetford, in the house of Sir Richard Falmenstone, Knight, by meane of a vaunting horse of woode, standing within the same house; upon which horse, as he meant to have vaunted, and the pins of the feet being not made sure, the horse fell upon him and bruised the brains out of his head.” In the January following, Leonard Dacre, Esq., of Horsley, in the county of York, second son of Lord William Dacre, of Gilsland, “choosing,” according to Camden, “rather to try for the estate with his prince in war, than with his nieces at law,” entered into rebellion, with a design to carry off the Queen of Scots. This object was frustrated by Mary’s removal to Coventry; subsequently he seized upon Naworth and other Castles, but having been attacked and defeated by Lord Hunsdon, he fled into Flanders, where he died.

[9] To understand the full importance of this appointment it is necessary to offer some explanations of the state of the Border at that period. The accession of James VI. to the English crown, although it produced the effect of converting the two extremities into the middle of the kingdom, contributed but little to arrest the system of plunder and depredation which had existed there for centuries. The inhabitants generally, on the Scottish side, were unrestrained moss-troopers (so called from the sloughs and bogs to which they resorted), “Knowing no measure of law,” says Camden, “but the length of their swords,”—men of whom Fuller quaintly writes, “they come to church as seldom as the 29th of February comes into the kalendar.” According to Sir Walter Scott, “the hands of rapine were never there folded in inactivity, nor the sword of violence returned to the scabbard.” The habits of these marauders, and the “interesting nature of their exploits,” are pictured in a strong light by the historian Camden. “They sally out of their own Borders in the night in troops, through unfrequented by-ways, and many intricate windings. All the daytime they refresh themselves and their horses in lurking holes they had pitched upon before, till they arrive in the dark at those places they have a design upon. As soon as they have seized upon the booty, they, in like manner, return home in the night, through blind ways, and fetching many a compass. The more skilful any captain is to pass through those wild deserts, crooked turnings, and deep precipices, in the thickest mists and darkness, his reputation is the greater, and he is looked upon as a man of an excellent head. And they are so very cunning, that they seldom have their booty taken from them, unless sometimes, when, by the help of blood-hounds following them exactly upon the track, they may chance to fall into the hands of their adversaries.”

[10] For the drawings on wood here engraved, we are indebted to Mr. T. M. Richardson, an accomplished artist of Newcastle.

[11] An anecdote is recorded of the gallant knight which strongly illustrates not only his peculiar habit, but the character of the turbulent time in which he lived. In this Library he was one day deep in study, when a soldier, who had captured a moss-trooper, suddenly entered with the news, disturbing his master with the unwelcome question of what was to be done with the fellow? “Hang him, in the devil’s name,” exclaimed the irritated lord, and turned to his books. The order was construed literally; and forthwith the unhappy prisoner was dangling from a tree; which Lord William, to his exceeding dismay, learned, when a few hours afterwards he ordered the culprit to be brought before him for examination.

[12] The Avenells, it would appear, about this time owned considerable property in the north, the benefits of which they seem to have dispensed with no niggard hand, as we find from the following notices in Dugdale’s “Monasticon,” vol. i. p. 839. “The manor of Oneash (the Aneise of Domesday) was given to Roche Abbey, Yorkshire, by William Avenell, Lord of Haddon.” “Conksbury, near Over Haddon, was given to the abbey of Leicester, by William Avenell.”

[13] Monuments of the Vernons and Manners in Bakewell Church:—

“Sir John Vernon, Knt. (son and heir of Henry), 1477; Sir Geo. Vernon, of Haddon, d. 1561, and his two wives, Margaret, daugh? of Sir Gilbert Talbois, and Maud, daught? of Sir Ralph Longford; Sir John Manners (second son of Thomas earl of Rutland), who died in 1611, and his wife (Dorothy, daughter and coheir of Sir Geo. Vernon), who died in 1584. John Manners (third son of Sir John), who died in 1590. And Sir Geo. Manners, who died in 1623; he married Grace, daughter of Sir Henry Pierrepont.”

Arms of Manners, duke of Rutland:—Or, two bars azure; a chief quarterly of the second and gules, the first and fourth charged with two fleurs-de-lis of the first, and third with a lion passant-guardant of the same, being an augmentation given to the family, in consequence of their descent from King Edward IV.

Crest:—On a chapeau, gules, turned up erm., a peacock in pride, proper.

Supporters:—Two unicorns, arg., thin horns, manes, tufts, and hoofs, or.

[14] The subjoined particulars respecting one of these open-house occasions, in 1663, are curious and interesting. They are extracted from the bailiff’s accounts of the time of John, eighth earl, who died here in 1679:—

About this time, from 1660 to 1670, although the family resided chiefly at Belvoir, there were generally killed and consumed every year, at Haddon, between 30 and 40 beeves, between 400 and 500 sheep, and 8 or 10 swine.”

[15] A romantic tradition is still current in the vicinity of Haddon, relative to the courtship and marriage of Mr. Manners (afterwards Sir John) with the younger co-heiress of Vernon. The tradition purports that the lover (who was, perhaps, thirty years of age) having conceived an attachment for Miss Vernon, a beautiful girl of eighteen, dwelt for some time in the woods of Haddon as an outlaw, or, rather, in the dress of a gamekeeper (probably with the popular reputation of being an outlawed man), for the purpose of concealment, and in order to facilitate secret interviews with his mistress; and that he at length succeeded in persuading the young lady to elope with him during the festivities of a masked ball, given by Sir G. Vernon in honour of the marriage of his eldest daughter, Margaret, with Sir Thomas Stanley, a younger son of the Earl of Derby.

[16] According to Walpole, “Anecdotes of Painting,” there is a tradition in the family of Cavendish, that a fortune-teller had told this imperious lady that “she should not die while she was building: accordingly, she bestowed a great deal of the wealth she had obtained from three of her four husbands in erecting large seats at Hardwicke, Chatsworth, Bolsover and Oldcote, and, I think, at Worksop; and died in a hard frost, when the workmen could not labour.”

[17] Hardwicke was built subsequently to the death of Mary; but there is little doubt that the room called “The Queen’s Room,” in memory of the unhappy lady, was furnished with the bed and other furniture removed thither from Chatsworth, where she was for some time a prisoner. Probably the hangings said to have been wrought by her were actually the work of her hands; needlework was unquestionably one of the modes by which she sought to solace her dismal confinement. Mr. White, writing to Sir William Cecil, describes an interview he had with her at Tutbury Castle, in 1568: “She sayd that all day she wrought with her nydill and that the diversity of the colours made her work seem less tedious, and contynued so long at it, till very payne made her to give over.”

[18] The curious in such matters may find further information on this head in the “Churchman’s Magazine” of 1801; and in the tenth volume of Bowles’ edition of Pope’s Works, 1806.

[19] Lord Braybrooke’s “History of Audley End;” to which copious volume we are principally indebted for our notices of the history of the house and its occupants.

[20] Evelyn records, in his “Diary,” his visit thus:—“From Cambridge, on August 31, 1654, we went to Audley End, and spent some time in seeing that goodly palace, built by Howard, Earl of Suffolk, once Lord Treasurer. It is a mixt fabric, ’twixt ancient and modern, but observable for its being completely finished; and it is one of the stateliest palaces of the kingdom. It consists of two courts, the first very large, winged with cloisters. The front hath a double entrance; the hall is faire, but somewhat too small for so august a pile; the kitchen is very large, as are the cellars, arched with stone, very neate, and well disposed. These offices are joyned by a wing out of the way very handsomely. The gallery is the most cheerful, and, I think, one of the best in England; a faire dining-roome, and the rest of the lodgings answearable, with a pretty chapel. The gardens are not in order, though well inclosed; it has also a bowling alley, and a nobly walled, wooded, and watered park. The river glides before the palace, to which is an avenue of lime-trees, but all this is much diminished by its being placed in an obscure bottom. For the rest it is a perfectly uniform structure, and shews without like a diadem, by the decoration of the cupolas and other ornaments on the pavilions. Instead of railings and balusters, there is a bordure of capital letters, as was lately, also, in Suffolke house.”

[21] It has recently been pulled down.

[22] Lord Braybrooke’s “History of Audley End.”

[23] The story of St. Osyth, as given in an old tract, entitled “Purgatory Proved by Miracles,” is printed by Wright in his History of Essex:—“St. Ositha was daughter of a Mercian prince named Frithwald, and of Wilterburga, daughter of Pende, king of the Mercians. She was bred up in great piety; and through her parents’ authority, became wife to Sighere, companion to St. Seb, in the kingdom of East Angles. But preferring the love of a heavenly bridegroom before the embraces of a king, her husband complied with her devotion; and, moreover, not only permitted her to consecrate herself to our Lord, but bestowed on her a village, situated near the sea, called Chic, where, building a monastery, she enclosed herself, and after she had spent some time in the service of God, it happened that a troop of Danish pirates landed there; who, going out of their ships, wasted and burned the country thereabout, using all manner of cruelty to the Christian inhabitants. Then he who was the captain of that impious band, having learnt the condition and religious life of the blessed virgin St. Ositha, began by entreaties and presents to tempt her to idolatry; adding withal threats of scourging, and other torments, if she refused to adore the gods he worshipped. But the holy virgin, despising his flatteries, and not fearing his threats, made small account of the torments attending her. Whereupon the said captain, enraged at her constancy and scorn of his idols, pronounced sentence of death against her, commanding her to lay down her head to be cut off. And in the same place where the virgin suffered martyrdom, a clear fountain broke forth, which cured several kinds of diseases. As soon as her head was off, the body presently rose up, and taking up the head in the hands, by the conduct of angels, walked firmly the straight way to the church of the apostles St. Peter and St. Paul, about a quarter of a mile distant from the place of her suffering. And when it was come there, it knocked at the door with the bloody hands, as desiring it might be opened, and thereon left marks of blood. Having done this, it fell there down to the ground.”

[24] It appears that in the time of the Confessor a “De Berkeley” possessed the adjoining manor and castle of Dursley; and his descendant might probably have joined the Conqueror on, or immediately after, his invasion, and thus retain the possessions until the domain was, during the wars between Maud and Stephen, consigned to Henry, afterwards Henry II. The gift to Robert Fitzhardinge is clear, and, occurring on the very year of his accession to the throne, was doubtless intended by the monarch to mark that event.

[25] The king had previously been treated with exceeding cruelty. It is said that on his way to Berkeley his conductors, for greater concealment of their captive, caused him to dismount from his horse and a barber to shave his head and beard with cold water from a ditch, telling him that “for once cold water must serve his purpose.” Covering his face with his hands, the unhappy monarch wept, saying, “Woulde they or noulde they, he woulde have warm water for his beard!” and to the end that he might keep his promise, he began to shed tears plentifully. This incident is related by Stowe on the authority of Thomas de Mori, “a worshipfull knight that then lived, and wrote in the French tongue, what he sawe with his eies or heard credily reported by them that sawe and some that were actors.” Lord Berkeley was allowed 5l. per diem for the monarch’s expenses during his imprisonment, and acquitted of all participation in the murder; Gournay was subsequently arrested at Marseilles and beheaded on shipboard, “it was supposed,” according to Hume, “because some nobles and prelates in England were anxious to prevent any discovery he might make of his accomplices.” Maltravers, many years afterwards, sued for mercy and obtained it. The greatest culprit seems to have escaped: Adam bishop of Hereford lent himself to the schemes of Mortimer and the queen, and wrote as follows to the knights who had the king in custody, “Edvardum occidere nolite timere bonum est,” purposely omitting the punctuations, so that the passage was capable of a double meaning, advising either to slay or spare the royal prisoner, and supplying a safe exit for the writer out of any difficulty that might subsequently arise.

[26] The following notes are extracted from Smith’s “Lives of the Lord Berkeleys,” edited by Fosbrooke:—

“The accompt of William Aside, receiver to the Lord Berkeley, accomptinge for a year from Mmass. anno 20 of Edward II. to the same feast in the first of Edward III., sheweth that he received to this lord’s use 700l. de camera scaccarii domini regis, out of the receipt in the king’s exchequer, for the expences of the house of the king’s father whilest he was at Berkeley; and hath in his said accompt an allowance of 31s. 1d. paid by him to Sir Thomas de Gournay, sent to Nottingham from Berkeley by the said Lord Berkeley to advertize the queene and the king her sonne of the death of the late king his father there. And 15th May the same year an allowance of 500l. more from the kynge, paid him by John de Langton, keeper of the castle of Kerfilly, for the same cause.

“The accompts of the reeves (stewards) of Hame and Alkington, and of other manors of this lord’s, near Berkeley Castle, expressly shewe what provisions and acates they sent from their severall granges and manor-houses from the 5th day of Aprill, then being Palm Sunday, when at supper time the kinge was first brought prisoner to Berkeley Castle, untill his death there the 21st September following.

“And the accompt of this said lord’s receiver for the yeare following, in 2d Edward III., sheweth what he payd for dyinge of the white canvas into black, for coveringe of the chariot wherein the bodye of the king was carryed from Berkeley Castle to Gloucester; what the cords, the hors-collers, the traces, and other necessaries particularly cost, used about the said chariot and conveyinge of his body thence to Gloucester; for a silver vessell to put the king’s hart in 37s. 8d. (in uno vase argentes pro corde dicti Domini Regis patres reponend); in oblations at several times in the chapple of the Castle for the kinges soul, 21d.; in expenses of the Lord Berkeley’s family going with the kinges body from Berkeley unto Gloucester, 18s. 9d.; and many like particularities.”

[27] About this period the records of the Castle testify that “from the manors of Ham and Cowley the following provisions were sent to the clerk of the kitchen for one year:—17,000 eggs, 1008 pigeons, 91 capons, 192 hens, 288 ducks, 388 chickens, 80 hogs, 110 porkers, 84 pigs, 45 calves, 315 quarters of wheat.”

[28] In 1334 the retinue of the then Lord of Berkeley usually consisted of twelve knights, each with two servants and a page; twenty-four squires, each with one man and a page—making a total of 108 persons.

[29] “The governor, Sir Charles Lucas, with three horses and arms, and 50l. in money. Each field-officer, two horses; foot-captains, one horse; lieutenant and ensigns, sword but no horse; field-officers and captains not to exceed 5l., soldiers not 5s. 16th October, Colonel Barnes, on petition, nominated governor by the House of Commons.”

[30] In reference to this apartment Horace Walpole, in a letter to the Rev. William Cole, dated 15th August, 1774, says:—“The room shewn for the murder of Edward II. and the shrieks of an agonising king, I verily believe to be genuine. It is a dismal chamber, almost at the top of the house, quite detached, and to be approached only by a kind of footbridge, and from that descends a large flight of steps, that terminate on strong gates—exactly a corps-de-garde.”

[31] “Hatfield, called Haethfeld, in the Saxon times, from its situation on a heath, was an ancient demesne of the Saxon kings, till it was granted by Edgar, in the tenth century, to the abbey at Ely, in Cambridgeshire. On the conversion of that foundation into a bishopric, in the reign of Henry I., it became attached to the new see; and the manor-house becoming a palace of the bishops, the town was thenceforth distinguished by the appellation of Bishops’ Hatfield. Queen Elizabeth, who had resided in the bishop’s palace some years before she came to the crown, greatly admired the situation; and by virtue of the statute which gave her the power of exchange, procured the alienation of this manor from the then bishop of Ely, Richard Cox. James I., in the third year of his reign, exchanged it for the house, manor, and park of Theobald’s, with his minister, Robert Cecil, earl of Salisbury, whose descendant, the Marquis of Salisbury, is the present owner.”

Notwithstanding Elizabeth’s regard for Hatfield, we cannot learn that she often resided here after her accession to the throne.

[32] The lowest fortune of any gentleman in that noble corps is stated, by one of its members, to have been no less than 4000l. a-year in land; equal, probably, to 20,000l. a-year at the present time.

[33] Of this house—the house in which Oliver Cromwell was born—only the site remains; a modern mansion having been erected upon it, about thirty years ago, by a Mr. Rust, a banker of the town—upon whose memory let the anathema rest. A wall of a cellar, which formed part of the ancient dwelling, now alone exists. The chamber in which the Protector “first drew breath” was a sight to which visitors ran eagerly; and this, it would seem, so worried the soul of the rich banker, that he commanded its removal, and with it as far as possible every trace of a house to which tens of thousands would desire to make a pilgrimage. Mr. Rust obtained the house—and the site, to which it would seem he attached some value—so recently as the year 1810. Until then it was in the possession of a Mr. Audley, a draper, who used to show the room in which the Protector was born, “and sportively desire it might be noticed that the devil was behind the door,” alluding to a figure of Satan upon some old tapestry with which the walls were hung. The ancient fabric was built of stone, with gothic windows and projecting attics. The present dwelling is as ugly an example of modern building as could well be seen.

[34] That Sir Oliver impaired his paternal estates by entertaining James I. is very certain. It is probable that the king was a frequent visitor to the hospitable knight, inasmuch as Royston, his Majesty’s hunting seat, was in the neighbourhood. The king’s first visit, in 1603, on his progress to take possession of the English throne, was a costly one. “His Highnesse and his followers,” according to Stow, “with all comers, had such entertainment as was not the like in any place before; there was such plentie and varietis of meates and diversitie of wines, and the sellars open at any man’s pleasure.” It is stated, indeed, that Sir Oliver’s entertainment was “a greater feast than had ever been given to a king by a subject”—a fact to which his Majesty himself testified; for on parting from the brave old knight, he is reported to have addressed him, “Merry mon, thou hast treated me better than ony ane syn I left Edinbro.”

[35] The present master of the school is the Rev. Mr. Fell, an accomplished scholar, and an enlightened gentleman, by whom we were guided about the various objects of interest in and around the venerable Town, and whose courtesies and attentions it is our pleasant duty to acknowledge.

[36] Upon a similar occasion, it is related that he paid a visit to his godfather-uncle at Ramsay; the sturdy old Royalist was firm to the monarchy; and although his nephew treated him with so much respect as to decline wearing his hat in his presence, he seized all his plate for the public service, and afterwards compelled him to give forty saddle-horses, “by way of fine.” Subsequently, however, when the whole estates of Sir Oliver were sequestrated by the Parliament, the remnant was restored to him by the intervention of Oliver—“for whose sake the sequestration was taken off.” Notwithstanding, the aged knight died in extreme poverty, in 1655, at the age of 93, and, it is said, was buried by night, “to prevent the seizure of his body by his creditors.”

[37] Over the entrance porch of the church at Godmanchester is a fine example of that ancient religious emblem, the “lily-pot,” in which is placed the miraculous rod of Joseph; in allusion to the old Roman Catholic legend of his marriage with the Virgin. According to this miraculous tale, the Virgin, who had spent her life in the service of the Temple, was to be married to that man of the race of David who, upon coming to the Temple bearing in his hand a rod, should be divinely pointed out as her future husband, by the miraculous flowering of the dry stick he carried, when offered at the altar to the High Priest. Joseph’s rod put forth buds and flowers immediately it was offered, and this miracle was a favourite subject with the early Catholic painters. Raffaelle has left us a picture of this event, and Joseph is frequently represented by other artists holding the rod with its flowers in his hand. The lily-rod is also often placed in a pot in the windows of in-door “Holy Family” scenes, similar to that which is placed upon the apex of the door at Godmanchester, as delineated in our initial letter; and which is a curious and unusually perfect example.

[38] On each side of the gate, upon projecting pillars, stand statues of wild men, the size of life. Each holds a tree uprooted; they are represented as covered with shaggy hair, wearing long beards and mustachios, with no article of dress but a girdle round the waist. These “Wodehouses,” or “Green Men,” for they were known by both names in the olden time, were favourite characters with our ancestors—as well in this country, as on the Continent. Froissart relates a melancholy story of a masque of wild men, among whom was King Charles VI. of France, which was performed at a marriage in 1392, when four of the noble masquers were burnt to death, owing to the curiosity of the King’s brother, who approached too near them with a lighted torch, which set fire to their dresses, that were made of cloth, and covered with pitch, upon which flax was fastened, to imitate shaggy hair. They were very commonly displayed in court masques and public processions in England. When King Henry VIII. kept his Christmas at Greenwich in the fifth year of his reign, “a mount,” upon which sat the King and five others, was drawn into the great Hall by “five wodehouses,” dressed in skins, or rugs resembling skins, so as to appear like savages. When Queen Elizabeth visited Kenilworth Castle, she was addressed by the pert Gascoigne habited like a savage, covered with ivy, holding in one of his hands an oaken plant torn up by the roots. They were frequently used to clear the way in processions, when the clubs were filled with fireworks. When Anne Bullen was conveyed upon the water from Greenwich to London in 1533, “there went before the Lord Mayor’s barge,” says Hall, “a foyste (a barge or pinnace propelled by rowers) full of ordnance, in which foyste was a great red dragon, continually moving, and casting forth wildfire; and round about the said foyste stood terrible monsters and wilde men, casting of fire and making a hideous noise.” They were usually employed in land processions, and the danger of too near an approach to them is alluded to by one of the characters in Wilson’s play, called “The Cobler’s Prophesy,” 1594, who exclaims, “Comes there a pageant by? I’ll stand out of the green man’s way, for fear of burning my vestment.” They were constant precursors of the annual pageants exhibited on Lord Mayor’s Day in London; in the Mayoralty procession of 1681, a body of twenty preceded the principal device. As a part of ancient public state and magnificence, the wild men of Hinchinbrook are most appropriately placed to watch and ward the principal gate.

[39] The prospect has been essentially abridged by the growth of surrounding trees. It is described by Evelyn as “a prospect, doubtless, for city, river, ships, meadows, hill, woods, and all other amenities, one of the most noble in the world.”

[40] Sir Henry Newton, who took the name of Puckering, on succeeding to the estates of his maternal uncle, espoused the royal cause, and was at the battle of Edge-hill. On the Restoration he was appointed Paymaster-general of the Forces. “His good housekeeping and liberality to the poor, who scarcely ever went away unfed from his gates, gained him the general love and esteem of his neighbours, and he was distinguished throughout the kingdom for being a generous benefactor to the poor cavaliers whose services were not rewarded by King Charles the Second.” Jane, the only daughter of Sir Henry, was attacked in Greenwich Park, on the 26th of September, 1649, by a party of men, who conveyed her to Erith, and put her on board a vessel there, the object being to compel her to marry a man named Joseph Welsh, by whom she was kept confined in a nunnery in Flanders, until she was induced, “through fear and despairing of ever being restored to her friends,” to marry him. On procuring her liberty, however, she instituted criminal proceedings against Welsh and his accomplices, and the marriage was declared void. They were indicted at Maidstone in 1651, and their guilt was proved, but it does not appear that they were in custody. She afterwards married Sir John Bale, of Carleton-Curlieu.

[41] Sir William Ducie was the son of Sir Robert Ducie, who “accumulated immense wealth in trade. He was banker to King Charles the First, and notwithstanding losing £80,000 by his Majesty, died, it is said, worth more than £400,000.”—Burke’s Extinct and Dormant Baronetcies.

[42] An anecdote of the Prince and his tutor is thus recorded. The Prince was here playing at the ancient English game of golf, when lifting up his golf-club to strike the ball, one standing by said to him, “Beware that you hit not Master Newton;” whereupon he, drawing back his hand, said, “Had I done so, I had but paid my debts.”

[43] Sir Adam Newton was a native of Scotland, advanced to the Deanery of Durham in 1606, which dignity, though not in orders, he held till 1620, when he resigned it, “being, in April of that year, created a Baronet.” His appointment as tutor to Prince Henry commenced in 1599 or 1600. “He was,” according to Dr. Birch, (Life of Henry Prince of Wales,) “thoroughly qualified for the office assigned him, both by his genius and his skill in the learned and other languages; and was distinguished by the neatness and perspicuity of his Latin style, shewn by his translation of King James’s Discourse against Conrade Vorstius.” In 1610 Mr. Adam Newton was appointed Secretary to the Prince when his Royal Highness “settled his household.” The Prince, to the universal grief of the nation, died in 1612. All contemporary historians unite in his praise. The anecdote so often told of him is a key to his admirable character. When urged to be wrathful with a butcher whose dog had killed a stag he was chasing, and so spoiled his sport—“Away,” said he, “all the pleasure in the world is not worth an oath.” “He was gentle and affable; but, however, in his carriage had a noble stateliness, without affectation, which commanded esteem and respect. He was courteous, loving and affable; naturally modest and even shame-faced; most patient, which he shewed both in life and death; slow to anger; merciful to offenders, after a little punishment to make them sensible of their faults: in brief, a character that approaches nearer to perfection, is not to be found in history.” His death was mourned by “all the muses;” funeral dirges to his memory were written by Donne, Webster, Chapman, Brown, Drummond of Hawthornden, and a score of other poets.

[44] Evelyn makes frequent mention of the venerable mansion, in connection with his “excellent friend,” Sir Henry Newton, the son and successor of Sir Adam. At that time the property belonged to Sir William Ducie.

[45] There are several wild traditions—and some of them not very delicate—concerning its origin. It is said to have been the result of an intrigue of King John with the wife of a miller: but the more probable origin is, that it was symbolic of the Ox of St. Luke, by which he is usually distinguished in ancient paintings, and to this Saint the Church of Charlton is dedicated. The Fair is now held on St. Luke’s day, the 18th of October, and the minister had a bequest of twenty shillings for preaching a sermon there. It was formerly kept upon a green opposite the Church, and facing the Mansion. At this fair were sold various articles formed of horn, such as drinking cups, &c., and horns gilded were sold and worn by the frequenters; during the reign of Charles the Second, it was a carnival of the most unrestrained kind, and persons used to start from London in boats, disguised as kings, queens, millers, &c., with horns on their heads, and men dressed as females, who formed in procession and marched round the church and fair. In the time of Brand, he tells us that the folks assembled consisted “of a riotous mob, who, after a printed summons dispersed through the adjacent towns, meet near Deptford, and march from thence in procession through that town and Greenwich to Charlton, with horns of different kinds upon their heads; and at the fair there are sold rams’ horns and every sort of toy made of horn, even the ginger-bread figures have horns.” In “Pasquil’s Night-cap, or Antidote for the Head-ache,” 1612, a poem by Nicholas Breton, a long and curious history of the annual meeting for the inauguration of these horns is given, as it used to be held in great pomp and with an immense concourse of people, all of whom

but he ends by telling us that—

[46] Craggs was much implicated in the “South Sea Bubble.” He resided in a house on the property of Sir T. M. Wilson—since the residence of Mrs. Fitz-Herbert—afterwards of Queen Caroline, when Princess of Wales—afterwards of Alderman Atkins, and recently of Gen. Sir Thomas Hislop, Bart., who died there.

[47] The Hall is opened to the public generally, only on Friday (between the hours of eleven and four) the day on which Hampton Court is closed. Visitors are admissible by cards, which must be obtained previously from Mr. Caddel, library, Gravesend, or Mr. Wildash, bookseller, Rochester. A charge is made of one shilling to each person. The sum thus accruing is appropriated to the benefit of the schools and other charitable institutions in the neighbourhood. The visitor is thus relieved from the irksome necessity of considering what gratuity he is to bestow upon the guide who accompanies him through the several galleries,—servants “being strictly forbidden to take any fees.” The cards contain the “Regulations.” Those who can devote but one day to an examination of this locality will do well to commence by an inspection of the church and village, and wander about the park after the Hall has been seen. Those who are not content with so comparatively brief a scrutiny, will find a homely but neat and comfortable inn at Cobham. It is scarcely necessary to observe that steam-boats ply, in summer, from Blackwall—distant six miles, or ten minutes, from the heart of London—every half hour. These voyages commence very early, and are continued to a late hour; so that although the Hall is five or six and twenty miles from the metropolis, it will not be found difficult to visit it and return to the city within one day.

[48] “Cobeham, anciently Coptham,—that is the head or village, from the Saxon Copt, an head.”—Philipott. Survey of Kent.

[49] One of the husbands of this lady was Sir John Oldcastle, who, in the reign of Henry V., attached himself to the Lollards. He was cited to appear before the Archbishop of Canterbury, and sentenced to death as “a heretic; who together with others, to the number of twenty men, called Lollards, had conspired to subvert the clergy and kill the king.” Having been outlawed upon treason and excommunicated, he was removed from the Tower to the “New Gallows” in St. Giles’, where he underwent his sentence—“to be hanged, and burned hanging.” At the place of execution, it is said, he desired Sir Thomas Erpingham, “in case he saw him risen the third day after, that he would then be a means to procure favour to the rest of his sect.” His “Tryal” before the Archbishop of Canterbury, 1 Henry Fifth, A.D. 1413, “on the Saturday after the feast of St. Matthew,” in the Chapter House of St. Paul, is reported in the State Trials. It is curious to note the language in which the prelate is stated to have addressed the doomed recusant:—“We repeated in soft and moderate terms, and in a manner very courteous and obliging, all our proceedings against him.” “We replied with much patience, and in a courteous and affectionate manner.” “We besought him, with tears in our eyes, and exhorted him in the most compassionate manner.” Such, and similar phrases, record the “gentleness” with which he was doomed to a cruel death. The archbishop could “make nothing” of the brave Lollard. He openly avowed that the only honour he vouchsafed to the Image of the Cross was, to “keep it clean, and in his closet;” declared his belief that he was “the true successor of St. Peter, who followed him in the purity of his life and conversation;” and protested that he “desired absolution only from God.” For the said “detestable crime of heresy” he was ordered to die; “by the advice and consent of men famous for discretion and wisdom;” and was “dispatched with all convenient expedition.”

[50] Sir Thomas Broke, and Joan de Cobham, his wife, had ten sons and four daughters. It is their tomb which occupies so prominent a position in the chancel of Cobham church.

[51] At the trial of Sir Walter Raleigh, at Winton, the 17th of November, 1 Jac. 1603, for high treason, “in conspiring to depose the king and set up the Lady Arabella Stuart, and corresponding with Spain for that purpose;” a variety of documents and letters were produced and read; written, as alleged, by Lord Cobham, implicating Sir Walter, admitting his own guilty participation, and affirming that “he would not have entered into these courses but by his, Raleigh’s, instigation.” Raleigh’s demand to be brought “face to face” with his accuser was refused, on the ground that “the accuser may be drawn by practise to retract what he had deposed, while he is here in person.” To this Raleigh replied, “He dares not accuse me. He said I was the cause of all his miseries and the destruction of his house, by my wicked counsel. If this be true, whom hath he to accuse or be revenged of but me?” “I say,” he added, “that Cobham is a base, dishonourable, poor soul.” Cobham, however, had retracted his assertions concerning Raleigh, who, at his trial, produced a letter from Cobham, to this effect:—“Seeing myself so near my end, for the discharge of my conscience and freeing myself from your blood, which else will cry vengeance against me, I protest upon my salvation, I never practised with Spain by your procurement: God so comfort me in this my affliction, as you are a true subject for anything I know. I will say as Pilate, ‘Purus sum a sanguine hujus.’ So God have mercy upon my soul, as I know no treason by you.” The letter, however, availed Sir Walter nothing; the attorney-general affirming “that it had been procured by subtle practices; and that the first declaration was drawn up voluntarily by my lord Cobham, and without any hopes of pardon.” Under a most iniquitous sentence then pronounced, Raleigh was executed fifteen years afterwards; and Cobham had been a houseless wanderer, meanwhile, perishing unpitied and unwept. Of their intimacy there is no doubt; and it is more than probable that the Old Hall we are describing was often the home of Sir Walter Raleigh, when distinguished as “the noble and valorous knight.” It is grievous to think that so great a “worthy” should have been sacrificed to the pitiful cowardice of so “poor a soul” as the last of the Cobhams—the degenerate scion of a munificent and valorous race.

[52] Sir Joseph Williamson was the son of a clergyman of Cumberland. He held various appointments under the Crown, was President of the Royal Society; and was buried in Westminster Abbey.

[53] “Lady Katherine O’Brien died in November following; upon which her two-thirds of this manor and seat, with the rest of the estates of the late Duke of Richmond, purchased by Sir Joseph Williamson, descended to Edward, Lord Clifton and Cornbury (son of Edward, Lord Cornbury, afterwards Earl of Clarendon, and Catherine his wife, the only daughter and heir of the said Lady Katherine, by her first husband, Henry, Lord O’Brien), and on her death without issue, in 1713, to his only surviving sister and heir, the Lady Theodosia Hyde.”—Hasted’s Kent, vol. i.

[54] The Blighs were originally a Devonshire family; and in the reign of Charles the First were seated at Rathmore, in the county of Meath, in Ireland.

[55] In 1714, 1 Geo. I., Sir Richard Temple, Bart. was created Baron Cobham—a title his descendants enjoy. The Temples were connected in the female line with the Brokes.

[56] At the end of this gallery are, branching to the right and left, the private apartments of the family; and in a room opening out of the west end of the Picture-gallery, Queen Elizabeth is reported to have slept when she honoured the Lord Cobham with a visit during her progress through Kent. In the centre of the ancient Ceiling are still preserved her Arms, with the date, 1599.

[57] An interesting series of Helmets hangs upon the walls of the chancel. They vary in age and appearance. The most interesting are two tilting helmets of the time of Henry V. These helmets were worn over the bassinet, which was also of steel, and fitted close to the head, having a movable visor which covered the face. The tilting or tournament helmet had nothing of the kind, an opening for the admission of light and air being formed by the projection of the lower portion, which covered the face, from the cap above. A few holes were drilled for sight, and the helmet rested upon the shoulders, being made wider at the neck, while the bassinet fitted it closely. The crest of the wearer, a plume of feathers, or other ornament, was generally affixed to these tournament helmets; and upon one of these at Cobham the staples remain upon the top and a hook behind, which helped to retain such decorations. A helmet thus ornamented with the crest of the Brokes—a Saracen’s head—still remains upon the walls. It is, however, of a much later date, probably about the time of Henry VII., and is a war-helmet with a movable visor.

[58] The other Brasses require a brief notice. The earliest is to the memory of John de Cobham, the first Knight Banneret, and Constable of Rochester; he is dressed in a shirt of mail: round his waist is a rich girdle sustaining a long sword. Eight lines of Norman French are inscribed round the verge of the slab. 2. Maude de Cobham, wife to Reynold, Baron Cobham, Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports in the reign of Edward the Third: she is standing on a dog. 3. Another Maude De Cobham—probably the wife of Thomas de Cobham, who died in the reign of Richard the Second. 4. Margaret de Cobham, wife of John Lord Cobham, the founder of the College. The inscription round the verge informs us, she was daughter to the Earl of Devonshire. 5. John de Cobham, the founder of the College, standing on a lion under a canopy. In his hands he holds a church. 6. Thomas de Cobham. 7. Joan de Cobham, “probably the daughter of John Lord Beauchamp, and mother of the Founder.” 8. Sir John Broke, and Lady Margaret his wife, under a rich canopy with pendants and other ornaments, with triangular compartments, “containing circles with shields, one of which bears the crown of thorns, and the other the five wounds; between the pinnacles, in the centre, is a curious representation of the Trinity, in which the Deity is delineated with a triple crown, and the Holy Spirit has a human face. The figure of the knight is gone, but that of his lady remains; and beneath, are groups of eight sons and ten daughters.” 9. Sir Reginald Braybroke, the second husband of Joan Lady Cobham. 10. Sir Nicholas Hawberk, her third husband. 11. Joan de Cobham: she died, as appears from the inscription, “on the day of St. Hilary the Bishop, A.D. 1433.” At her feet are six sons and four daughters, and surrounding her are six escutcheons of the Cobham arms and alliances. 12. Sir Thomas Broke, and one of his three wives. Below them are seven sons and five daughters. Sir Thomas died in 1529. 13. Sir Ralph, or Rauf de Cobham, represented by a bust, in a skull-cap and shirt of mail. He died, according to the inscription, on the 20th January 1402.

[59] The Sackvilles are an ancient and very distinguished family, dating from the Conquest. The first Peer, the famous Lord Buckhurst and Earl of Dorset, succeeded Burleigh as Lord Treasurer, an office in which he was confirmed by King James. He is more celebrated, however, as the author of the earliest English Tragedy in blank verse, “Gordubuc,” and “The Induction to a Mirrour for Magistrates,” one of the noblest Poems in the language. Gordubuc is praised by Sidney for its “notable moralitie;” and the Poem is believed to have given use to the Fairy Queen. All contemporaries agree in bearing testimony to the virtues of this truly noble man. One of them thus draws his character:—“How many rare things were in him! who more loving unto his wife! who more kind unto his children! who more fast unto his friend! who more moderate unto his enemy! who more true to his word!” The sixth Earl of Dorset is also celebrated in the History of Literature: he was one of the wits of the licentious court of Charles the Second; the associate of Rochester, Villiers, and Sedley; but subsequently the patron of Prior, Dryden, Butler, Congreve, Addison, and Pope. Prior he rescued from a vintner’s tap, and Butler “owed to him that the court tasted his ‘Hudibras.’” His reputation as an author rests upon a Poem consisting of no more than eleven stanzas—the “song” beginning

said to have been written on shipboard, on the night preceding a sea-fight. It is an elegant composition, and manifests a “heedlessnesse of danger” natural to a gallant youth. Pope hails him as

and there can be no doubt that he was not only a generous and liberal friend to men of letters, but a judicious patron to those who needed help.

[60] The Dining Parlour—where, by the way, in 1645, the Court of Sequestration met and deprived, for loyalty to his sovereign, Edward, the fourth Earl of Dorset, of his estates—contains a series of Portraits of men who, it is certain, met together often there, assembled round the festive board of Charles, the sixth Earl. Among the more interesting and important are those of Waller and Addison, by Jarvis; Dr. Johnson, Garrick, and Goldsmith, by Sir Joshua Reynolds; Otway, by Sir Peter Lely; Locke, Hobbes, Sedley, Newton, and Dryden, by Kneller; Cowley and Rochester, by Du Boyce; Tom Durfey—in “a conversation piece”—by Vandergucht; Burke, by Opie; together with copies, by less famous hands, of Ben Jonson, Congreve, Wycherley, Rowe, Garth, Swift, Cartwright, Pope, Betterton, Gay, Handel, &c., &c., &c.

[61] The artist selected as a worthy subject for his pencil the gallery which runs parallel with “the Brown Gallery,” on the upper floor. It is peculiarly striking and characteristic; and Time has shaken it into “the picturesque.” It is known as “the Retainers’ Gallery;” the sleeping apartments of the domestics branch off from it. The marble chimney-piece, although much dilapidated, is of the finest marble, and of rare workmanship.

[62] According to Hasted, the name is derived from Pen, an old British word signifying the top of anything; and hyrst, a wood.

[63] It has been the fortune of the “Arcadia” to be too highly valued in one age, and far too much underrated in another. Immediately after its publication it was received with unbounded applause:—“From it was taken the language of compliment and love, it gave a tinge of similitude to the colloquial and courtly dialect of the time, and from thence its influence was communicated to the lucubrations of the Poet, the Historian, and the Divine.” The Book is a mixture of what has been termed the heroic and the pastoral Romance, interspersed with interludes and episodes, and details the various and marvellous adventures of two friends, Musidorus and Pyrocles. It was not intended to be published to the world; but was written merely to pleasure the Countess of Pembroke—“a principal ornament to the family of the Sidneis.”

[64] The touching incident to which, perhaps, more than to any other circumstance, Sir Philip is indebted for his heroic fame, is thus related by his friend and biographer, Fulke Greville, Lord Broke:—“In his sad progress, passing along by the rest of the army, where his uncle, the General, was, and being thirsty with excess of bleeding, he called for drink, which was presently brought him; but, as he was putting the bottle to his mouth, he saw a poor soldier carried along, who had been wounded at the same time, ghastly casting up his eyes at the bottle. Which Sir Philip perceiving, took it from his head before he drank, and delivered it to the poor man, with these words, ‘Thy necessity is yet greater than mine.’” He lived in great pain for many days after he was wounded, and died on the 17th of October, 1586. The close of his life affords a beautiful lesson. “Calmly and steadily he awaited the approach of death. His prayers were long and fervent—his bearing was indeed that of a Christian hero. He had a noble funeral. Kings clad themselves in garments of grief—a whole people grieved for the loss of the most accomplished scholar, the most graceful courtier, the best soldier, and the worthiest man of the country and the age. He was buried in state, in the old Cathedral of St. Paul’s, on the 16th of February. Both Universities composed verses to his memory; and so general was the mourning for him, that, “for many months after his death, it was accounted indecent for any gentleman of quality to appear at Court, or in the City, in any light or gaudy apparel.”

[65] The Norrises had long been a family of note in Lancashire, and held lands in Blackrod, Sutton, &c. The family of Bradshaw, of Bradshaw, was of Saxon origin, and seated there before the conquest; after that event, Sir John Bradshaw was repossessed of his estates by the Conqueror, which went to his posterity for twenty-two descents, whereof eleven were lineally knighted, as appears by ancient charter, and other authentic evidences. A full account of the marriages may be seen in Wotton’s Baronetage (Edition 1769, vol. vi., fol. 14), down to Sir William Bradshaw, second son of Sir John Bradshaw, the tenth generation from Sir John Bradshaw; which Sir William married Mabel daughter of Hugh Norreys, or Norris, by which he got for her dowry, as sole heir of her father, the manors of Sutton, Raynhill, Whiston, Haghe, Blackerode, and West Leigh. Haghe and Blackrode were held as a twelfth part of a knight’s fee. There is a well-attested story of Mab and Mab’s Cross. She was obliged to walk bare-foot and bare-legged once a week from Haigh to near Wigan, to expiate the sin of marrying again in her husband’s absence, when she thought he had been slain. This Mab was Mabil Norreys, of Blackrode. A portion of the Cross is still to be seen at the extremity of the town of Wigan, on the left hand side of the road, leading from Wigan to Haigh Hall, now the residence of Earl Balcarras.

The Norrises of Speke and Rycot were all martial men. They held their estate of Speke by military tenure, which they imposed upon their tenantry. The Norrises acquired great honours in foreign service, in which they were so much engaged as to be unfrequent attendants at court. A part of the debateable lands at Bromfield, in Wales, was granted to this family. Sir John Norris was a most accomplished General about 1577, equally valiant and skilful in a charge as a retreat. On one memorable occasion, he effected a retreat with a handful of Englishmen, which gained him more honour than a victory could have conferred. He was sent to Ireland, as a commander, in the reign of Elizabeth; but not being properly supported by the Government, or owing perhaps to the animosity of party spirit, he did not succeed in his mission, and died anno 1597.

[66] The question whether the wainscoting at Speke did or not originally come from Scotland, appears to have given rise to some discussion; and is unquestionably a matter of deep interest to antiquarians. Not long ago, Robert Whatton, Esq., F.S.A., Member of the Royal College of Surgeons, took some pains to investigate its history, in order to assist the Scottish Society of Antiquaries, who had organised a committee with a view to ascertain whether there was or was not any proof to sustain the tradition.

It appears Mr. Whatton could meet with no intelligence prior to 1767. “Seacome,” in his History of the House of Stanley, page 46, refers to it; also “Enfield,” in his History of Liverpool, 4to, 1774, page 115. These accounts have been copied by Gough, in his edition of Camden, and every subsequent writer.

The very splendid and highly-finished specimen of the carved oak wainscot, common to the counties of Lancaster and Chester, is erected against the north wall of the room, and is divided perpendicularly from the ceiling, two-thirds of its extent downwards, into eight compartments, these compartments being again subdivided horizontally into five rows of panels; a space corresponding with the width of two of the compartments, on the right hand, with the exception of the uppermost panels, is occupied by the door-case, which projects into the room. That part of the wainscot which is usually allotted to the frieze or cornice, is here formed into a projecting head, extending through the whole length of the works in a line with the ceiling of the room, to which it is attached and secured by nine supporters, correspondent with the columns below.

The columns which divide the wainscot into compartments rise from square ornamental pedestals; the shafts are fluted in two divisions, having capitals with volutes and rows of foliage, and supporting scrolls with massive square heads, increasing in diameter upwards, and reaching to the bottom of the first row of panels.

The columns of the door-case are similar to those on the wainscot, except that the shafts are ornamented in zigzag instead of fluting; in the centre, over this door, is a shield with the arms of Norris, quartering Harrington, and Molyneux, and others we cannot decipher.

With respect to the origin of this fine and beautiful work, there seems to be no evidence to support the current tradition of its having been originally Scottish. Mr. Whatton is of opinion, not only that it never came from Scotland, but that it was of neighbouring manufacture; and was executed for Edward Norris in 1598 (40th of Elizabeth), and not brought thither by his great uncle, Sir Edward, who fought at Flodden; but the probability is, that some relics brought from Scotland had been set up at Speke previous to the erection of the present Manor Hall in 1598; and as these would no doubt be transferred to the new building, it might have happened in the course of time, that what was strictly applicable to a part may have been ascribed to the whole.