CHAPTER IV.

CARDINAL BEAUFORT’S TOWER--ST. CROSS--WINCHESTER--SURREY--SALISBURY--CANTERBURY--ROCHESTER--RYE--EAST GRINSTEAD--MIDDLESEX.

Cardinal Beaufort’s Tower was built in the early part of the fifteenth century, when he revived the foundation of St. Cross. To the left of the illustration is the brewery, formerly called the Hundred Men’s Hall, because a hundred of the poorest inhabitants of Winchester were daily entertained to dinner here, and, as that repast was provided on a very bountiful scale, the guests were always permitted to carry provisions to their families. This tower and the buildings around it are noble examples of the domestic architecture of the fifteenth century. The dwellings of the brethren consist of a parlour, bedroom, scullery, and closet; they are beautiful examples of old cottage architecture, and are compactly planned. In this hospital the custom yet prevails of giving any wayfarer who may ask it a horn of ale and a dole of bread. The ale is brewed on the premises, and is said to be the same kind as that which was brewed here hundreds of years ago. The revenues of this building were till lately enormous, and much dissatisfaction is openly expressed at the way in which one high in office, recently appropriated the greater part of them. Nothing can exceed the beauty of St. Cross as it is approached from the Southampton road. This noble gateway is seen through great elms and walnut trees, and the long lines of quaint high chimneys, combining with the church and foliage, are astonishingly picturesque. The river Itchen sometimes is well in view along the road, and sometimes it is lost in the trees. The hospital itself, with the brethren in their black gowns and silver crosses, gives, perhaps, a more vivid picture of ancient England, and that in its best features, than any other scene that is left us.

Just a mile from this charming spot is the West Gate of Winchester. Formerly there were four gates, but three have been demolished. The one here shown is said (probably with accuracy) to have been built by King John. It is unnecessary, however, to remark that later architecture has been introduced. There is a strong room on the ground-floor, called a cage, that was for the temporary confinement of disorderly persons, and till lately it was used for a similar purpose.

The beautiful “Cross” at Winchester is supposed by Britton to have been erected by Cardinal Beaufort. The cardinal is said to have spent much of his ill-gotten wealth in splendid architectural works. His wealth was prodigious, even for a high prelate of those days. In the fine scene which closes his career in “Henry VI.,” he says in his last moments--

“If thou be’st death, I’ll give thee England’s treasure, Enough to purchase such another island, So thou wilt let me live and feel no pain.”

The probability is that the great dramatist more nearly hit off the truth of the last hours and crimes of the great churchman than ordinary history has done.

The Cathedral Close at Winchester is extremely picturesque, and the little houses round it are of considerable antiquity. If the visitor enters the church from the west end, the scene is of almost unequalled grandeur. He looks through one continuous vista of pillars, arches, and roof, extending

to the eastern extremity, where the eye finally rests on the great eastern window, that seems to dimly light up the choir. The size of this magnificent vista may best be understood if we consider that a journey from the west door to the east window and back is only some eighty yards short of a quarter of a mile. It is curious that Winchester is really cased in and hidden by a more recent style, in order to adapt it to the more modern styles of thought and practice; and I am indebted to Mr. Barry for bringing forward the following problem:--How is it that in the Georgian era the great rage was for pulling down dwelling-houses, and, indeed, unhappily, other buildings of a secular character, cathedrals and parish churches were spared, especially as they were all generally classified under the term of Gothic, or barbarous? Gothic, it must always be remembered, is the term of reproach that Wren applied to all mediæval architecture, though it has now been converted into a word of praise. Vandalism was the parallel term in those days, and Goths and Vandals were always brought forward when any signal piece of art-spoliation had to be described:--

“The Goths and Vandals of our Isle, Sworn foes to sense and law, Have burnt to dust a nobler pile Than Roman ever saw.”

These are the crowd that Cowper alludes to when describing the burning of Lord Mansfield’s library. The second term only now is ever used in reproach, the first being almost, as before remarked, a complimentary epithet. Happily it is so, or else the cathedrals would have fallen in the fashion of the period that made each new era in design paramount for the time. Nothing can have been less conservative than the way in which the monks of old regarded the works of their predecessors. In any English cathedral we see the masonry of different eras, each with its own peculiarity, and there was not the slightest hesitation in pulling down the works of the previous century in order to replace them with those in fashion; indeed we often find exquisite carved work broken in pieces and used for rubble, when its very condition shows that the builders who so used it could have easily restored it--not “restored” in the modern sense of the word, but repaired it. To be so conservative as we are now of the works of our ancestors in an age that is pre-eminently one of progress, seems an anachronism, but it must be remembered that we should not now have possessed much in the way of cathedrals if it were not for the fact that after the Reformation, clergy fell almost into contempt for a long time. Macaulay’s _History of England_ tells us how lightly they were esteemed; a chaplain to a family of rank and wealth was hardly held in greater honour than the head gamekeeper or huntsman; and the wealth of the bishops and dignitaries seems almost to have isolated rather than enabled them to mingle with their equals. Ecclesiastical buildings were therefore neglected, happily for the present generation, or else we should have had a dozen grand old Gothic piles replaced by the architecture of Queen Anne or the Georges. The tide of improvement that swept away so many old English mansions passed by them.

Surrey is a very beautiful county, undulating and diversified. A great part of it is not more than 300 feet above the level of the sea, and Leith Hill, near Dorking, which is the highest part of it, is only about 900 feet in elevation. There are many old towns and villages in Surrey, and not a few are of great historical interest. Esher is the place where Cardinal Wolsey was ordered to retire to after his downfall. The gateway still remains of Esher Palace. It is a fine old tower, with turrets at the angles. Norfolk gives the--to him--congenial orders:--

“Hear the King’s pleasure, Cardinal; who commands you To render up the great seal presently Into our hands; and to confine yourself To Esher-house--my lord of Winchester’s.”

The Town-hall of Guildford is a very characteristic building of the earliest period of classic revival. I saw a painting of it that dated back to the earlier part of last century, and the street seems hardly to have been altered since this picture was executed. The balcony is of course for addressing an audience at election times, and the clock stands quaintly out into the street, supported by thin ribbons of wrought

iron. Much of the character of this and other classic buildings of the period when the revival took place, came from Holland, and the stiff gardening was introduced from the Netherlands, though of course the Dutch element is more observable in places like Hull, that had more direct communication with the Low Countries. The revivals of Wren and Inigo Jones proceed from an entirely different quarter, though of course they often combined with them.

The city of Salisbury, it has been well said by one of our best antiquarians, has its origin well defined, and in this respect differs from English cities generally. It has nothing Roman, Saxon, or

even Norman in its origin, but is purely an English city, and it may be considered as unique. It has abundant provision for cleanliness, and is even without the remains of a baronial fortress. True it is that it was surrounded by walls, and a very fine gateway is shown here, but these walls were the boundaries of the precincts of the ecclesiastics. The

See of Salisbury was removed from Old Sarum in 1215 to its present site, in consequence of the “brawles and sadde blows,” as Holinshed states, between the clergy and the castellans, and then the splendid cathedral was commenced. King Henry III. granted the church a weekly market, and a fair of eight days’ continuance; and, according to Dodsworth’s _Salisbury_, “the city was divided into spaces of seven perches each in length, and three in breadth,” and this accounts for the present symmetrical arrangement of the streets.

The view in the High Street, looking into the close, shows one of the entrance gatehouses. It is, of course, of later date than the Cathedral, but extremely fine, and characteristic of ancient English architecture. The view of Salisbury from the bridge includes the present workhouse--the building on the right. There is a fine old chapel here, and a curiously ornamented chimney-piece, and also an apartment Britton calls a “monks’ parlor.”

Of Salisbury market little need be said. The engraver has reproduced the scene excellently well, and it will at all times be numbered among the most graceful stone structures, either ancient or modern, that adorn the kingdom.

Surrey, from its position, has often occupied a conspicuous place in English history, and it is hardly necessary to add that Runnymede, near Egham, where the great and peaceful revolution took place that is felt to the present day, is in Surrey.

Canterbury is one of the most delightful cities in England for an antiquary. Not much remains of its military antiquities, but the ecclesiastical and domestic relics are numerous and imposing. St. Augustine’s monastery is worth a pilgrimage from any part of England, and notwithstanding all it has suffered from having been used as a brewery, it bears many grand traces of its ancient splendour.

Mercery Lane, which is here shown, is one of the ancient narrow streets of the city, and the engraver has given an excellent idea of its present appearance. The houses on each side are two storeys higher, and that would still further seem to contract its width; but the Cathedral, and the Christ Church gateway that shuts off the Cathedral precincts, and appears to span the street, are very well given.

This is the principal gateway to the close, and was built by Prior Goldstone in 1517. The octagonal sides were formerly surmounted by elegant turrets, but these have been taken down as low as the battlements. The arms of Becket are carved on one of the spandrels, and there is an inscription:--“HOC OPUS CONSTRUCTUM EST ANNO DOMINI MILESSIMO QUINGENTESSIMO DECIMO SEPTIMO.” The effect of the great cathedral towers in warm gray, and the

precinct archway seen through a long vista of dark street, is peculiarly grand.

There are not a few black-and-white gabled houses still standing in Canterbury, and now all antiquities are preserved with jealous care. The small houses shown at end of this chapter are characteristic of the humbler dwellings of the city, and show how low a room was sometimes considered to be sufficient. According to Geoffrey of Monmouth a British town stood here as far back as nine centuries before the Christian era; but the Romans early established a colony here, and changed the old British name to Durovernum. A view of a Roman gateway is still given in Gostling’s _Walks_, and another Roman gateway was taken down in 1790.

Falstaff Inn is an ancient hostelry of very considerable merit as to its present accommodation. The signboard projects to an extraordinary extent into the road, and is supported by elaborate wrought iron work.

The west gate, which is shown in the same engraving, is the only one of the six ancient barriers of Canterbury. Britton tells us that it was built by Archbishop Sudbury, who proposed to erect strong defences at each entrance to the city, and connect

them all by walls, which should completely surround it. “The barbarous murder of that active and benevolent prelate by the insurgents under Wat Tyler on Tower Hill, June 14, 1381, put an end to this among many other appropriate and useful improvements planned for the advantage of his metropolitan city. The gatehouse he, however, completed, and it is an interesting feature among the numerous antiquities of the place. It crosses the high road from London to Dover, and serves as a protection to the bridge over the western branch of the Stour, which at this place is only a small stream. It is embattled and machicolated, and the grooves still remain which directed the fall of the portcullis. The arch is of subsequent date, and forms part of the reparations effected by Archbishop Juxon after the disturbance occasioned by the puritanical Mayor at Christmas 1647. The centre is flanked by the very lofty and spacious round towers, the foundations of which are laid in the river Stour. They are divided into two storeys, and are pierced with loopholes having circular endings, similar to those observable in the remains of the fortifications near Dane-John-Hill, and are embattled.” This gatehouse, when Britton wrote his description, was used as the city prison both for criminals and debtors.

Canterbury is always associated with Chaucer’s wonderful work, the _Canterbury Tales_, and the accurate insight that this gives into the manners and customs of the time. The Tabard, afterwards the Talbot in Southwark, retained till comparatively recent times many of the features of the hostelry that it had when Chaucer described it. The landlord was a man of great mark, and his social importance is rather startling to our present ideas. His guests were composed of all ranks of people, and after their dinner was over he proposed a journey to Canterbury at his own cost and charges, and that he should judge the best story that any of them could narrate on the road, being “wise and well ytaught” himself. Chaucer’s characters of the guests are wonderfully clever and lifelike, even at the present day; but it is rather curious to find him so outspoken against the monk and friar, and contrasting them with the “poure parson of a town,” and “the clerk of Oxenford.” The former seems to have suggested Goldsmith’s village parson, and indeed it is impossible to read Chaucer’s description without being reminded of almost parallel passages, though Goldsmith’s are of course so much sweeter.

“Fenced around with barbican and bastion on the one hand, and girded by high walls towards the river, the legal and baronial occupiers of Rochester Castle sat in safety,” says the historian, “whether dispensing the rude justice to trembling serfs, or quaffing the red wine among their knightly retainers.” The last repairs the castle received were at the hands of the possessor in Edward VI.’s time. James I. granted it to Sir Anthony Welldone, and his descendant Walker Welldone, according to Grose, “sold the timbers of it to one Gimmit, and the stone stairs, and other squared and wrought stone of the windows and arches, to different masons in London; he would likewise have sold the whole materials of the castle to a paviour, but on an essay made on the east side, near the postern leading to Bully Hill, the effects of which are seen in a large chasm, the mortar was found so hard that the expense of separating these stones amounted to more than their value, by which this noble pile escaped a total demolition.” The streets of Rochester, though they contain many beautiful houses of ancient date, can boast of little, if anything at all, equal to the castle in antiquity. There is one very fine gabled residence, now used as a school, on the south side of the city. The gateway called the College Gate is here shown. It is built of oak, with clinker boarding, and is extremely picturesque. The street in which it stands leads up to the cathedral precincts. The ancient house architecture of Kent is very valuable for examples. In the neighbourhood of Broadstairs the chimneys, both of brick and stone, afford a great store of quaint examples for this little understood branch of building. And all antiquarians are indebted to Kent as being the home of Camden, the greatest of antiquaries, who died at Camden Place in 1623, at the residence where the Emperor Napoleon III. expired exactly 250 years later.

Two illustrations only are given in Sussex, though it has many quaint old street scenes. Chichester is rather disappointing to those who see it for the first time, and know it by its old cross and cathedral. There still remain in the upper part of South Street some houses with overhanging cornices, that are attributed, and in all probability accurately so, to Sir Christopher Wren. The Cross has often been described and drawn, and is a thoroughly good example of street architecture. It is quite impossible to do more than hurry over this county. Winchelsea was added to the Cinque Ports before the reign of King John, and in the reign of Henry VI. it was the principal port of embarkation for the continent. The Land Gate, the Strand Gate, and the New Gate, three out of its old gateways, are still standing, though they are rather ruinous, and Winchelsea itself is in a state of decay, hardly being more now than a village.

Rye is about two miles to the north-east of Winchelsea, and is a very ancient town with grass-grown streets. They are nearly all narrow, steep, and very winding. Rye is one of the Cinque Ports, like Winchelsea, and as yet its harbour continues to be of some little consequence. The church clock, which is still in use, is said to be the most ancient in England. The gabled houses here shown are very characteristic of the town, and much resemble those in Chester and Shrewsbury.

It has been said that it is difficult to decide if this rather familiar style of building which still adorns so many of our older county towns is an adaptation of a still older form. “Owing to constant improvement,” says an author of a paper read before the Liverpool Architectural Society, “it is impossible to determine exactly the various periods, because old timbers and productions in wood were used in the construction of new houses. For the same reason it is difficult to say whether examples were new in design or copies from earlier buildings. Such an instance we have in the ceiling of Neworth Castle, which is richly carved, and bears the character of the fourteenth century, although the structure was rebuilt almost entirely towards the close of Queen Elizabeth’s reign.” We have already remarked on the former part of this sentence, as illustrated in so many street fronts in Chester, and for the second part, there is no doubt that the ordinary street architecture of Queen Elizabeth’s time, where it had none of the peculiarities introduced by Thorpe into the country, was similar to that which existed for centuries before. It is quite possible that the house in Shrewsbury where Richmond lodged before the battle of Bosworth[2] was of some age then--indeed, there are reasons for supposing so; yet there is no characteristic in it that would distinguish it from a town house of Charles II.’s time, unless, of course, the latter had some enrichment. East Grinstead is seated on a hill near the borders of Sussex. It contains many very interesting half-timbered houses, not dissimilar in character to the illustrations from Rye. The one we have shown is a characteristic stone house, with a fine massive chimney and mullioned windows.

If some sort of a consecutive order is to be kept in the counties, Middlesex would almost seem to follow Kent and Surrey, and London is yet full of quaint old relics like Staples Inn, Lincoln’s Inn, Crosby Hall, the interesting streets at the north side of St. Paul’s. There is also much curious architecture in the buildings of the twelve great guilds, and in the squares and streets round Russell Square are many fine old remains of Queen Anne’s time. Many of these are turned into lodging-houses, or let off in flats to professional men; but one thing is certain, there is a wealth of old city architecture inside London houses that would surprise many an old inhabitant.

This is more valuable now since the revival, by Mr. Norman Shaw, of the Queen Anne architecture; not that it necessarily should supersede all other styles, or any other, but there are places where it might have its use, and form a valuable addition to the picturesque appearance of the landscape. But in coming to London after the streets and homesteads we have been considering, one feels almost like a country cousin that has arrived from the shires. Anything that can be said is so well known already by nearly all the residents. Every spot round London is classic ground. Hampstead, where the meetings of the famous Kit Kat Club

were held, and where Addison and Steele used often to be found, is only just outside the metropolis on the north-west; Edmonton, on the north-east, where the Bell Inn is standing, that is immortalised by Cowper in “John Gilpin”; Finchley, familiar to every one through Hogarth’s “March of the Guards” in 1745, on their way to suppress the Pretender; and hundreds of other similar spots, would form not only an interesting but a large work of themselves. Excepting the brickwork, however, at Lincoln’s Inn[3] and “Pinner on the hill,” no illustrations of Middlesex have been attempted.