OUR notice of “charming Cliefden” must necessarily be brief; not because the “Stately Home” itself lacks of stateliness, of beauty, of grandeur, or of interest; not because the episodes in its history are “few and far between,” or devoid of incident; not because its glorious situation and its picturesque surroundings present few features for the pen to dwell upon, and the poetic or artistic mind to linger over; and not because the genealogies of the families to which it has belonged will not vie both in point of antiquity, in fame, and in noble and illustrious actions with others; but simply because the space at our disposal will admit only of words where we would gladly have written paragraphs. In interest, in beauty, and picturesque surroundings, Cliefden will bear favourable comparison with most others of our series, while it yields to none in the loveliness, the romantic beauty, and the attractiveness of its situation. To take only a cursory glance at such a place is like peeping in at the door of a picture gallery, without having time to note any of the treasures spread on its walls.

Cliefden, now one of the seats of his Grace the Duke of Westminster, is situated in Buckinghamshire, and overlooks the river Thames in its most attractive part. It is to Cliefden that the river here owes its chief loveliness, but it is also to the river that Cliefden is indebted for one of its principal attractions. From the Berkshire side of the Thames the woods and the mansion form a magnificent scene, but it is from the bosom of the stream that its beauties are best understood and most enjoyed. “Cliefden runs along the summit of a lofty ridge which overhangs the river. The outline of this ridge is broken in the most agreeable way; the steep bank is covered with luxuriant foliage, forming a hanging wood of great beauty, or in parts bare, so as to increase the gracefulness of the foliage by the contrast; and the whole bank has run into easy-flowing curves at the bidding of the noble stream which washes its base. A few islands deck this part of the river, and occasionally little tongues of land run out into it, or a tree overhangs it, helping to give vigour to the foreground of the rich landscape. From the summit the views are really magnificent; both up and down the river they are of surpassing beauty. Looking over Windsor, the eye ranges far away till it loses itself in the hazy distance, to which the royal pile gives an aËrial grace, while it adds majesty to the whole view. Looking up the river towards Hedsor the charming seat of Lord Boston, we have a prospect little less splendid, though of a different character. A vast extent of country lies at one’s feet, covered with dense wooded tracts, from which ever and anon peeps up an old grey tower; and the blue smoke marks a secluded village, while the glorious river winds away like a broad stream of molten silver.” The immediate grounds, whether Thamesward or landward, are well laid out, and present at every turn spots of beauty and loveliness not excelled elsewhere.

Speaking of the river scenery about Cliefden, Mr. Hall, in his “Book of the Thames,” says, “Those who accuse our great island river of insipidity, who, if they concede its claims to beauty, deny its pretensions to grandeur, will do well to row beneath the thick woods of Taplow and Cliefden, and, looking up, they will have no difficulty in imagining themselves in one of the grandest and richest, in picturesque attractions, of our English lakes; indeed, they will require only the near and distant mountains to fancy themselves under the heights of Glena, in all-beautiful Killarney. Well may we rejoice to scan the charms of our glorious river, and ask the aid of Poetry and Art to give them fame and power. But the painter will fail here. He may select graceful nooks, and a thousand objects will, singly or in groups, present themselves as fitting subjects for his pencil; but he cannot convey to the eye and mind a just idea of the mingled grandeur and beauty of this delicious locality; while the poet will find only themes which have been, ever and everywhere, the chosen and the favoured of his order. Those who row past these charming woods, and note what has been done by taste, in association with wealth, to render every part delightful, ascend any of the heights and examine the ‘prospect,’ near or distant, their enjoyment will be largely enhanced. It is impossible, indeed, to exaggerate the beauty and harmony of the foliage which everywhere surrounds us:—

‘Beautiful in various dyes,
The gloomy pine, the poplar blue,
The yellow beech, the sable yew,
The slender fir that taper grows.
The sturdy oak with broad-spread boughs;
And, beyond., the purple grove.
Haunt of Phyllis—Queen of Love!’

But there are here hundreds of other trees which the poet could not commemorate, for they were unknown in England in his time. All climes and countries have contributed to the wealth of foliage at Cliefden—woods, lawns, and gardens are enriched by tributes from every land to which enterprise has conducted British science to gather treasures converted from exotics into subjects naturalised and ‘at home.’”

Cliefden formerly belonged to the ancient family of Manfeld, of Buckinghamshire, from whom it was purchased by the infamously profligate George Villiers, second Duke of Buckingham, who built the mansion, and expended large sums of money in laying out the grounds and planting them with all the rarities of arboriculture he could procure. He employed Archer, the architect, to design and erect the mansion, and to adorn the grounds with alcoves and other buildings of a like nature.

The house was a commanding square structure, of three stories in height, besides the terrace (440 feet long), and it had wings connected with the main building by a colonnade. It was built of red brick, with stone dressings. He furnished it in a sumptuous manner, and hung its walls with fine tapestry and valuable pictures. Here the Duke brought his mistress, the Countess of Shrewsbury, and here gave full bent to his licentious habits. Thus Cliefden gained an unenviable notoriety, and has been immortalised in song and in prose:—

“Gallant and gay, in Cliefden’s proud alcove,
The bower of wanton Shrewsbury and love.”

In 1667-8 the Duke had taken part in a singular triple duel about the Countess, and had mortally wounded her husband by running him through the body. Pepys thus wrote of this duel:—“January 17th. Much discourse of the duell yesterday between the Duke of Buckingham, Holmes, and one Jenkins, on one side, and my Lord of Shrewsbury, Sir John Talbot, and one Bernard Howard, on the other side: and all about my Lady Shrewsbury, who is at this time, and hath for a great while been, a mistress to the Duke of Buckingham. And so her husband challenged him, and they met yesterday in a close near Barne-Elmes, and there fought: and my Lord Shrewsbury is run through the body, from the right breast through the shoulder; and Sir John Talbot all along up one of his armes; and Jenkins killed upon the place, and the rest all in a little measure wounded.

This will make the world think that the King hath good counsellors about him, when the Duke of Buckingham, the greatest man about him, is a fellow of no more sobriety than to fight about a mistress. And this may prove a very bad accident to the Duke of Buckingham, but that my Lady Castlemaine do rule all at this time as much as ever she did, and she will, it is believed, keep all matters well with the Duke of Buckingham; though this is a time that the King will be very backward, I suppose, to appear in such a business. And it is pretty to hear how the King had some notice of this challenge a week or two ago, and did give it to my Lord Generall to confine the Duke, or take security that he should not do any such thing as fight: and the Generall trusted to the King that he, sending for him, would do it; and the King trusted to the Generall. And it is said that my Lord Shrewsbury’s case is to be feared that he may die too: and that may make it much worse for the Duke of Buckingham: and I shall not be much sorry for it, that we may have some sober man come in his room to assist in the Government.”

The Countess of Shrewsbury (the Duke’s mistress), who was Anna Maria, daughter of Robert, Earl of Cardigan, is said to have held the Duke’s horse, habited as a page, while the duel was being fought, and that she thus not only saw her husband mortally wounded, but then went home with the murderer, where she took him to her arms “in the shirt covered with her husband’s blood.” The Duke was married to the Hon. Mary Fairfax, daughter and heiress of Lord Fairfax, the Parliamentary general—a woman of pure tastes and faultless habits—whom he shamefully neglected. Pepys, under date the 15th of May, 1668, says, “I am told also that the Countesse of Shrewsbury is brought home by the Duke [the Earl had died of his wounds in March] of Buckingham to his house, where his Duchesse, saying that it was not for her and the other to live together in a house, he answered, ‘Why, madam, I did think so, and therefore have ordered your coach to be ready to carry you to your father’s;’ which was a devilish speech, but, they say, true; and my Lady Shrewsbury is there, it seems.”

Large as was the income of the Duke, his profligacy, extravagance, and immoralities so swallowed it up that he did not complete Cliefden, and died in wretchedness; and but for the timely help of Lord Arran, a few days before his decease, in abject poverty and loneliness. “There is not,” wrote Lord Arran, “so much as one farthing towards defraying the least expense;” and Pope, in one of his epistles to Lord Bathurst, remarks—

“Behold! what blessings wealth to life can lend,
And see what comforts it affords our end!
In the worst inn’s worst room, with mat half-hung,
The floors of plaster, and the walls of dung,
On once a flock bed, but repaired with straw,
With tape-tied curtains, never meant to draw,
The George and Garter dangling from that bed,
Where tawdry yellow strove with dirty red,
Great Villiers lies—alas! how changed from him,
That life of pleasure, and that soul of whim,
Gallant and gay in Cliefden’s proud alcove,
Tho bower of wanton Shrewsbury and love;
Or just as gay at council in a ring
Of mimick’d statesmen and their merry king.
No wit to flatter, left off all his store;
No fool to laugh at, which he valued more;
There victor of his health, of fortune, friends,
And fame, this lord of useless thousands ends.”

Soon after the Duke’s death all his property, being deeply mortgaged, was sold, but did not realise enough to pay his debts; and dying without issue, “his titles, which had been undeservedly conferred on his father, and only disgraced by himself, became extinct.”

Cliefden was purchased by Lord George Hamilton (fifth son of the Duke of Hamilton), who was created Baron Dechemont of Linlithgow, Viscount Kirkwall of Orkney, and Earl of Orkney, in 1696. His lordship completed the mansion, and did much towards beautifying the grounds. Dying without male issue in 1737, his eldest daughter, Anne, became Countess of Orkney, and succeeded to the Cliefden estate. She, however, did not reside here, but let it to H.R.H. Frederick, Prince of Wales, father of King George III., who for many years made it his summer residence. Here, at Cliefden, on the 1st of August, 1740, was first performed Thomson and Mallet’s masque of Alfred, in which occurs the ever-famous and patriotic “ode in honour of Great Britain,” “Rule Britannia”—

“When Britain first, at Heav’n’s command,

Arose from out the azure main”—

the music of which was composed by Dr. Arne. It was, therefore, within the walls of Cliefden that “Rule Britannia” was first heard, and this gives it a literary interest of no small note. The masque in which it formed so prominent a feature was prepared and given at Cliefden, to commemorate the accession to the throne, in 1714, of King George I. (grandfather of Frederick, Prince of Wales), and in honour of the third birthday of his daughter, the young Princess Augusta. It was repeated the following night, and soon became the most popular of all compositions.

In 1795 the mansion (it is traditionally said through the carelessness of a maid-servant reading a novel in bed) was totally destroyed by fire, the wings, at some distance from the main building, being alone saved; while nearly all the sumptuous furniture, pictures, and tapestry were devoured by the flames. The estate was afterwards purchased by Sir George Warrender, by whom the mansion, which had been left in ruins since the fire, was rebuilt in 1830. After his death the estate was sold by Sir George’s executors to his Grace the Duke of Sutherland, and on the 15th of November, 1849 (the day of thanksgiving for the cessation of the cholera), only a few months after its purchase, it was again burned down.

In the following year, 1850, the Duke of Sutherland set about rebuilding the mansion on a scale of princely magnificence, and having engaged the services of Barry as architect, the present pile soon rose from the ruins of the former buildings. The “centre portion, which is a revival of the design for old Somerset House, now extends to the wings, which, together with the terrace, are made to harmonize with the new building.” The house and grounds, like Trentham, owe much of their beauty and loveliness to the good taste of the Duke and Duchess, the latter of whom, when a dowager, made it one of her favourite residences. The interior of this “Stately Home” needs no particular description. The rooms are, of course, one and all sumptuously furnished with all the appliances of wealth and taste, and are lavish in their attractions. It is truly a “home of beauty and of taste.”

Cliefden passed from the Duke of Sutherland to his daughter, the Lady Constance Leveson-Gower, married to the present Duke of Westminster, whose property this splendid domain is.

The family of Grosvenor, of which the present owner of Cliefden is the illustrious head, is one of high antiquity, tracing, as it does, in England, from the Norman conquest, when his grace’s ancestor came over with William the Conqueror. The principal line of the Grosvenors was seated at Hulme, in the hundred of Northwich, in Cheshire, and was descended in direct line from Gilbert le Grosvenour, nephew of Hugh Lupus, the Norman Earl Palatine of Chester, whom he accompanied to this country. The name, it is said, was derived from le Gros Venour, from the family having held the hereditary post of chief huntsman to the Dukes of Normandy. This main line was extinct in the twenty-second year of the reign of Henry VI., the line being continued by Ralph Grosvenor, second son of Sir Thomas Grosvenor, of Hulme. He married Joan Eaton, daughter and sole heiress of John Eaton, of Eaton, or Eton, in Cheshire, Esq., early in the fifteenth century. In 1621-2 a baronetcy was conferred on the representative of the family; and in 1676, Sir Thomas Grosvenor having married Mary, sole daughter and heiress of Alexander Davies, of Ebury, in the county of Middlesex, Esq., laid the foundation of the immense wealth and rapidly increasing honours of the Grosvenors.

In 1761 the then baronet, Sir Richard Grosvenor, was elevated to the peerage by the title of Baron Grosvenor of Eaton, in Cheshire, and in 1781 was advanced to the titles of Viscount Belgrave and Earl Grosvenor. He married Henrietta, daughter of Henry Vernon, Esq., by whom he had issue an only son, Robert Grosvenor. The Earl died in 1802, and was succeeded by his son, Robert Grosvenor, as second earl.

This nobleman was born in 1767, and married, in 1794, the Lady Eleanor Egerton, daughter of the first Earl of Wilton, by whom he had issue his successor, Lord Richard, who became third earl and second marquis; Lord Thomas, who became Earl of Wilton; and Lord Robert, M.P. In 1831 Earl Grosvenor was advanced to the dignity of a marquis, by the title of Marquis of Westminster being conferred upon him. He died in 1845, and was succeeded by his eldest son—

Richard, second Marquis of Westminster and third Earl Grosvenor. He was born in 1795, and in 1819 married the Lady Elizabeth Mary Leveson-Gower, second daughter of the first Duke of Sutherland, and by her had issue a family of four sons and nine daughters. His lordship, dying in 1869, was succeeded by his eldest son, the present peer, Hugh Lupus Grosvenor, in all his titles and estates, who, in 1874, was created Duke of Westminster.

The present noble head of this illustrious family, his Grace, Hugh Lupus, first Duke and third Marquis of Westminster, Earl Grosvenor, Viscount Belgrave, Baron Grosvenor of Eaton, a Baronet, and a Knight of the Garter, was born on the 13th of October, 1825, and succeeded his father in 1869. His grace was educated at Eton and at Balliol College, Oxford, and represented Chester in Parliament from 1847 to 1869, when he entered the Upper House. In 1852 his grace, then Marquis of Westminster, married his cousin, the Lady Constance Leveson-Gower, daughter of the second Duke of Sutherland, and sister of the present noble owner of Trentham. By this union his grace has issue, living, five sons and three daughters. These are—Victor Alexander, by courtesy Marquis of Westminster, to whom (born in 1853) her Majesty the Queen stood sponsor in person, who married, in 1874, the Lady Sibell Mary Lumley, daughter of the Earl of Scarborough, by whom he has issue, and is heir to the titles and estates; Lord Arthur Hugh Grosvenor, born in 1863; Lord Henry George Grosvenor, born in 1864; Lord Robert Edward Grosvenor, born in 1869; Lord Gerald Richard Grosvenor, born in 1874; the Lady Elizabeth Harriet, born in 1856; the Lady Beatrice Constance, born in 1858; and the Lady Margaret Evelyn, born in 1873.

The Duke of Westminster is patron of eleven livings, four of which are London churches; and his seats are Eaton Hall, Cheshire; Cliefden, Buckinghamshire; Halkin, Flintshire; and the mansion in Upper Grosvenor Street.

The ancient arms of the Grosvenors, settled in the famous Scrope and Grosvenor trial in the fourteenth century, were claimed to be azure, a bend, or; but these were declared to belong to Scrope. Sir Richard Grosvenor then, after the trial, assumed the arms azure, a garb, or, as showing his descent from the ancient Earls of Chester. On or after the creation of the marquisate of Westminster the arms of that city were granted as an augmentation, and ordered to be borne quarterly with those of Grosvenor. The arms now are—quarterly, first and fourth, azure, a portcullis with chains pendent, or; on a chief of the last, in pale, the arms of King Edward the Confessor, between two united roses of York and Lancaster (being the arms of the city of Westminster); second and third, azure, a garb, or, for Grosvenor. Crest—a talbot statant, or. Supporters—two talbots reguardant, or, collared, azure. Motto—“Virtus non stemma.”

The glorious grounds of Cliefden have been pleasantly discoursed upon by many writers, but by none more graphically or technically than in a brief notice in the Garden, which to some extent we cannot do better than quote. Cliefden, “the birthplace of spring gardening,” he says, “well maintains the high character it has so long and deservedly received for the beauty of its early flowers, its banks full of wild hyacinths, primroses, and forget-me-nots; its closely shaven lawns so overspread with wild thyme that every footstep brushes up its fragrance; and, above all, its flower-beds brimful of spring beauty, which in turn give place to summer bedding plants. Looking from the terrace on the lawn, a huge sunken panel with flower-beds proportionate in size on either side of it, the floral display when we saw it was magnificent.

Brilliant pink, supplied by a large circle of Silene pendula compacta, set in emerald green, was conspicuous in the distance; nearer were lavender and blue, furnished by Nepeta cÆrulea and forget-me-nots; buff, by Limnanthes Douglasi; golden yellow, by Lasthenia Californica; and crimson, by the old China rose of that colour and rhododendrons. Other colours, too, were equally striking, and these only a secondary display, that earlier and brighter being made by early tulips. The plan is, when the tulips are planted, to cover the surface of the beds with annuals, sown in July and August, and transplanted when the bulbs are put in. These commence flowering when the tulips are over, and remain in beauty until the bedding plants are planted out. Vasefuls of Tom Thumb pelargoniums stand on the grass near the walk at the base of the terrace wall, close to which is a ribbon border bright with pansies, for which Cliefden is justly celebrated; and right and left are gardens of early flowers, arranged on the one hand in the form of a huge shell, and on the other in beds on the grass that have been bright all the season with spring flowers in great beauty. But, brilliant as the floral display on the dressed ground undoubtedly has been, and soon will be again, it cannot arrest attention long. The eye is naturally carried beyond it to the wood-clad hills and dales, the rich meadows, and the river Thames, at this season alive with water-parties from Maidenhead and pleasure-boats of every description. These form the foreground, as it were, to a landscape unmatched for picturesque beauty, its distant boundary being the Surrey hills on the one hand, and the Chilterns, in Buckinghamshire, on the other.

“Vistas, too, have been cut here and there through the trees, so as to bring into view the water or some more distant object of interest. By reclaiming pieces of land here and there from the river, a wide and agreeable promenade has been formed along its bank, overhung at intervals by stately trees, consisting of beech, ash, and elm, with here and there a tulip-tree and scarlet chestnut. This is reached from the plateau above, on which the mansion stands, by means of winding walks and flights of rustic steps, through what may be termed a gigantic wild garden, consisting of ancient yews, whose hold on mother earth is but small, their roots—weather-beaten and weird-looking—being half out of the ground, and tangled brushwood, fantastically overrun in places with honeysuckle and traveller’s joy. Here, too, even on the chalk, are masses of ferns, and nearer the river-side a very fine Judas-tree, clumps of pampas grass, mulberry-coloured hazels, and other flowering and fine-leaved subjects, while in spring every open space is a garden of wild flowers.

“Let us now return to the entrance front of the mansion. This has been strikingly improved, by removing the old kitchen garden, and laying its site down in grass as level as a bowling-green, cut off from its surroundings right and left by newly built walls, and in front by a thick yew hedge, still kept in vigour by means of good root treatment. These, with the mansion, enclose a spacious quadrangle, on the side of which farthest from the windows are large vases; these in early spring are gay with tulips, and later in the season with annuals, the most effective of which is Silene pendula compacta in masses of rosy blossoms. On the walls, which are covered with climbing and other wall plants, are rare roses, and honeysuckles in profusion. In another part is a rose hedge, consisting of Fellenberg, a kind not very full when open, but excellent in the bud state for table decoration.

“Shut out from view of the mansion by these walls are the glasshouses, a conservatory being on the one side, and the forcing-houses on the other—all new, and arranged with consummate skill and forethought, as regards saving of labour: the whole, with the exception of the conservatory, are built in parallel lines right and left of a central pathway, under which are the hot-water pipes, a glass-covered corridor running round the whole, and binding them, as it were, together. Close to them are the offices and young men’s rooms, the latter built in a style and furnished with appliances such as are to be found in but few gardens. Grapes, peaches, and other tender fruits are grown here in perfection, and among other things we noticed a houseful of tree, or perpetual, carnations in flower, a brilliant sight—the blooms being abundant, large, and fragrant. The extension system of vine-growing is that which is most in favour here. In one vinery—an old one, sixty feet long—one vine has been allowed to fill the house; it is in excellent condition, and is carrying some two hundred bunches of promising fruit. Near here, too, is a glass corridor, the roof of which is covered with an aged fuchsia of the corallina kind; several other varieties have been grafted on it, all of which are literally masses of flower, and most effective, owing to the contrast produced by their different colours. Ivies, grown in zinc boxes and trained on trellises for indoor screens, are here out of doors in the shade. These fit into ornamental trays, and when taken indoors have a pelargonium or nasturtium, or some other flowering plant plunged in the box in front of them.

“The conservatory is fifty-six yards in length and twelve yards in width, and span-roofed, the spans being placed at right angles with the wall against which it is built. It is in two divisions, but so arranged that both can be thrown into one, which, when lighted up at night (which it is on certain occasions) has a fine effect. It is as gay as a house of the kind can well be—arum lilies, as they are called, being especially good and conspicuous. Among the more arborescent vegetation which it contains are oranges, carrying heavy crops of ripe fruit, and a vigorous specimen of Abutilon Boule de Neige, loaded with drooping white bell-shaped flowers, which, when inverted in bouquets with the stamens removed, have a charming effect. Against the back wall is Lantana mutabilis, quite a mass of variously coloured flowers, exhibiting, in fact, a luxuriance of blossom wholly unattainable by plants in pots.

“With the noble entrance to Cliefden most people are familiar. It consists of a straight avenue of dimensions commensurate with the palatial residence to which it leads. This remains as it always has been; but the approach in connection with it has of late been greatly altered and improved. On the one side we have natural wood intermixed with flowering shrubs and trees; and on the other, here and there glades of grass pleasantly undulated, and furnished with clumps of rhododendrons and azaleas—some near, some distant, but all effectively planted, and more or less over-canopied with lofty trees, chiefly beeches, whose stems rise for an unusual height clear of branches. A large stagnant pond, by which the road passes, has been drained, filled up, and converted into a grassy lawn, one side of which hugs the approach for a considerable distance, while the other loses itself in the wood on the other side of the valley. Vistas, too, have been judiciously cut through the trees where the planting and views are most beautiful, thus rendering this portion of the grounds by no means the least interesting feature of Cliefden.

“Of the kitchen garden we have said nothing; nor of the miles of green drives, in summer shady and pleasant, with which the woods abound; nor of the indoor fruit-growing, which is excellent; but enough has been said to show that Cliefden, since it has become the property of the Duke of Westminster, has been greatly improved, both as regards its buildings and its gardens, and is now one of the most charming of seats.”