Part 9

To the left is the Screen Hall, about fifty-six feet long, twenty-four broad, and thirty in height; the ceiling of this hall is of the date of Henry VII., the screen was added in the reign of Elizabeth, and the arms of Sir Rowland Lytton, quartering those of Booth and Oke, of which families he was heir-male, are carved on the panels. Above the screen is the Minstrels’ Gallery. The oak panels that surround the hall and ascend to a considerable height, with the columns at the extreme end, are of the date of Charles I., and above them are carved deers’ heads with gigantic antlers. There are three figures in complete knight’s armour in this hall, of the several dates of Henry VII., Henry VIII., and James I.; and trophies, of the dates of Elizabeth and Charles I., are suspended on the piers between three Gothic pierced windows. The fire-dogs on the ample hearth are peculiarly massive, and of the time of Henry VII., having the supporters assumed by Sir Robert de Lytton. One of the doors at the extreme end is connected with a curious relique of ancient manners, of which a few similar instances are still to be found in our old halls; it leads to a spacious cellar raised on arches, to which it was the custom, in the less sober age of our fathers, for the revellers to retire after dinner, with the noble design to drink out a bin undisturbed. The corresponding door gives access to the Oak Drawing-room, a room thirty-six feet in length, paneled in deep wainscot, with a curious and massive chimneypiece rising to the ceiling, and carved with the arms and supporters of Lytton. The upper compartments of the stone mullion windows are emblazoned with the arms of Booth, Godmanston, and Oke; quarterings brought into the family by the marriage of Sir W. Lytton (temp. Henry VIII.) with the heiress of the Booths. This room is hung round with portraits, chiefly those of the family, but with some of a more general interest. There are small heads of Elizabeth, Mary Stuart, and Cardinal Wolsey, a fine portrait of Algernon Sidney in his youth, another of Andrew Marvel, two by Rubens of the Duke of Alba and Clara Eugenia, one of Galileo, and one of the Elector Palatine, husband to Elizabeth Stuart. This room communicates with the Library; a spacious apartment, with one large deep-set oriel window, facing the garden. The bookcases, of carved Gothic work in dark oak (surmounted by the crest of Norreys, the Cornish chough, which, according to Welsh heraldry, denotes royal descent), line the room throughout. The chimneypiece, of carved stone, is blazoned with the arms of Grosvenor, Stanley, and Robinson, Beaufort, St. John, and Lytton; and the stained glass of the windows contains other armorial bearings of the joint descents of the families of Lytton and Robinson. In this room are two antique tall bronze candelabra, with lamps inlaid with silver, which were dug up in Apulia, and purchased by Sir Edward at Naples. The Neapolitan government refused for a long time to permit them to leave the country, and it was only upon the decision of a learned antiquary, that they were of the date of Joan of Naples, and not Roman antiquities, that they were consigned to their present proprietor. Assuming that date to be correct, though there is strong evidence to believe them genuinely Roman, they are wonderfully well preserved, and their shape and form are of exquisite taste and workmanship. From this room we pass to the Staircase, formed by a double flight of oak stairs, with curiously wrought balusters, ornamented with lions supporting armorial shields. Two long mullion windows with richly stained glass, illustrating the descent of Ruth, Lady Lytton, from the Neviles and Plantagenets, light this interesting part of the house. The walls are covered with armour, banners, and portraits; among the last is a full-length of the Regent Murray, another half-length of Henry, Prince of Wales, and a vast equestrian portrait of the Emperor Charles V.: the rest are family portraits, including one of Sir Edward by Von Holst. Ascending the flight to the right, we pass through a carved screen-work into the lobby, leading to the State Apartments, four in number. The first is a small square room, extremely curious from the antiquity of its decorations. The wainscot, in oak carving, represents the Cardinal Virtues; the walls are covered with gilt stamped leather, and the ceiling is blazoned with heraldry. In this room are some interesting portraits, viz. of the Earl of Strafford and his widow, of Lord Darnley, of Sir Philip Sidney, said to be given by him to Sir Rowland Lytton, of Sir Robert Cecil (first Lord Salisbury), said also to be a gift, of Bussy d’Amboise, _homme de sang et de feu_, and Sir Francis Russell, who married a daughter of Sir William Lytton. There is a curious oak cabinet, of the reign of Henry VIII., in this room. Passing through a carved oak door we enter the next in the suite, a somewhat long but narrow room, hung with rich tapestry glitteringly wrought in bugles. Between the windows is a superb Venetian cabinet, in tortoiseshell and silver. There is a picture by Rembrandt, called “_The Magician’s Study_,” over one of the doors; and above the high oak chimneypiece is a portrait of the young Duke of Gloucester, son of Charles I. Folding-doors open from this room into the oval room, and thence into the principal drawing-room, formerly called the Presence Chamber. These rooms are decorated en suite; the ceilings represent nearly ninety quarterings, and the frieze the principal descents, by alliance, from the Tudors and Plantagenets; corresponding heraldic devices are blazoned on the windows of the whole suite. The walls are in green and gold, depicting the crests, badges, and motto of the family. There are several excellent pictures in these rooms; viz. a “_Magdalene_,” by Carlo Dolce, in his best manner; a most beautiful “_Madonna_,” by Gallego, a Spanish artist little known in this country, but of high repute in his own: he was a pupil of Albert Durer. Nothing can exceed the finish and exquisite colouring of this lovely picture. There is also a “_Holy Family_,” by Albert Durer; the head of the Virgin is beautiful. “_The Flight into Egypt_,” by N.Poussin; a portrait of Marie de Medici by Tintoretto; and the celebrated masterpiece of Lancret, so often engraved, of “_The Dancing Group_.” There is also a charming bit by Charles le Brun; a portrait of Edward VI., given by him to Sir William Lytton; an “_Oriental Fair_,” finely painted, the artist unknown; a “_Battle-piece_” by Wouvermans; a landscape by Salvator Rosa, “_Acis and Galatea_;” and four full-length family portraits connected with the genealogical decorations of the apartments.

The furniture throughout this suite corresponds with the antiquity of the apartments and character of the decorations, comprising some rare and genuine examples of the taste of our forefathers. There are, in particular, two tables in ivory and ebony of the reign of Henry VIII.; two cabinets in oak and gold of that of Henry VII.; an early Venetian table of extreme beauty; and several chairs in the old Genoese cloth of gold, as fresh as if wrought but yesterday. Here are also two of the ivory and gold chairs formerly belonging to Tippoo Saib, presented by Lord Wellesley to Queen Charlotte, and sold after her death; and some fine specimens of sculpture on marble pedestals: the “_Laura_” of Canova; the “_Mercury_,” and “_Shepherd’s Boy_” of Thorwaldsen; the “_Flora_” of Gibson, presented to Sir Edward by that exquisite artist; and the busts of the four Italian poets, Petrarch, Ariosto, Dante, and Tasso, in alabaster. At the end of the old Presence Chamber formerly ran the Picture Gallery, removed by Mrs. Bulwer Lytton. The suite now terminates by a stained glass window, on which is painted the full-length of Henry VII. with the subjoined inscription:--

“_King Henry the VII., to whose blood are akin the heirs of Sir Robert de Lytton of Knebworth, K.B., Privy Councillor and Keeper of the Great Wardrobe, A.D. 1508; 1st. by Margret Beauchamp, from whom descended Anne St. John, wife of Sir Rowland Lytton, temp. Elizabeth. 2dly. by Anne, sister of Sir Owen Tudor and wife of Sir William Norreys, temp. Henry VII., from whom descended William Robinson Lytton, temp. Anne._”

The chimneypiece is a beautiful Gothic specimen of carved stone gilt and blazoned, with the following punning motto on the frieze,--“_A Dieu foy, aulx amys foyer._”

Returning to the staircase we descend the first flight, and turning to that at the left pass by a full-length statue, in carved wood, of Sir Walter Raleigh; to a lobby, communicating on one hand with the Minstrels’ Gallery, on the other, through a very curious oak door, to the Round-Tower Chamber. This last is covered with stamped leather, white and gold, and commands, from the deep-set window, a beautiful view of the gardens. It contains portraits of Madame Dubarry, mistress to Louis XV.; of Ninon de l’Enclos; and one or two other persons of better repute: amongst them, Viscountess Falkland, daughter of Sir Rowland Lytton--a charming face. In a lobby adjoining the tower is a stone bust of Prince Charles Edward. In the Music Gallery is a long picture of “_Moses in the Bulrushes_,” which unluckily hides the old _œil de bœuf_, so rare in English halls. A corridor leads from the Music Gallery to the principal sleeping chambers, which are, for the most part, in character with the rest of the house.

The _Falkland Room_ is uniformly in the style of Charles II., with family portraits of that date: viz. Margaret, daughter of Sir William Lytton, and wife of Viscount Hewyt; another daughter, Dorothy, wife of Sir Francis Barrington of Barrington; a third, Judith, married to Sir Nicholas Strode; and fourth, Elizabeth, married to W. Windham of Felbrigge, ancestor of the celebrated statesman. Over the chimneypiece hangs a half-length of Charles II. in armour.

Another room, called _the Hampden_, is of a much earlier style of decoration and furniture than that which the name betokens. The curious old bed, the wardrobe, chimneypiece, &c., are about the time of Henry VIII. or Edward VI.

But the two most interesting rooms in this part of the house are, 1st, that called Queen Elizabeth’s, which is carved entirely, with magnificent old tapestry in fine preservation, and in which are a vast bed of carved oak, a rude chimneypiece supported by quaint stone figures, &c.; 2d, the room called Mrs. Bulwer Lytton’s, and occupied by her in her lifetime. This contrasts with the rest of the house, and is entirely modern. The walls, paneled in wainscot, white and gold, are hung round with her own drawings and paintings, some of which are of no common merit for a lady artist; here also are collected the portraits of her immediate family, her three sons, her mother, Sir Edward’s children, &c. But the feeling which dictated the character of this room is best told, perhaps, by the following inscription over the chimneypiece:--

“_This room, long occupied by Elizabeth Bulwer Lytton, and containing the relics most associated with her memory, her Son trusts that her descendants will preserve unaltered. Liberis Virtutis exemplar._”

The Village is long, straggling, primitive, and rural; the cottages neat, and all provided with gardens. In the centre is an alms-house for widows, built by the late Mrs. Bulwer Lytton, whose interest in all that concerned the poor of the neighbourhood, or the maintenance of the several duties connected with property, is visible everywhere.

The Church of Knebworth is worth visiting. In the private Chapel of the family are some very beautiful and costly marble monuments to several of the Lyttons, surmounted by faded banners, and the crested

helmets of some of that line, said, by Mr. Pratt, to be among the finest and rarest specimens he has seen in England: their dates appear to be those of Henry IV., Henry VII., and Elizabeth.

A very interesting little tale was published in the last century, called “Jenny Spinner, or the Hertfordshire Ghost,” the scene and incidents of which are laid at Knebworth, and founded upon the traditional superstition that in certain apartments, called “the Haunted Rooms,” the whirr of a spinning-wheel was heard at night. The book is extremely rare, and appears to have furnished Sir Walter Scott with the idea of the parish-clerk of Gandercleugh, in “Old Mortality.”

As the seat and residence of Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton, Bart., the accomplished Author who occupies so prominent a position in the Literary History of the age and country, Knebworth cannot fail to possess an interest beyond that which it derives from antiquity and picturesque character; we, therefore, have devoted to it greater space than we are usually able to appropriate to a single subject.

HINCHINBROOK HOUSE,

HUNTINGDONSHIRE.

Above this entry some loyalist had written, “England’s plague for five years,” which the pen of some Parliamentarian had afterwards struck through. The hand-writing of this pithy sentence seems, to judge from the characters and the ink, nearly as old as the registry itself.

Fortunately there is one object associated with the early life of “Oliver, Lord Protector,” which the rude hand of a modern Vandal has not been able to desecrate or even touch. The Grammar School remains uninjured even by time; it stands

in the centre of the Town, opposite to All-Saints Church;[35] and in its interior as well as exterior seems to have undergone very little change since Oliver’s master, Dr. Beard, flogged him there--as tradition saith he did--for dreaming that “he saw a gigantic figure come to his bedside, and tell him he should be greater than a King;” and where, not long afterwards--it is said, on the same authority--while acting the part of “Tactus” in the play of “Lingua,” it was his business to “stumble at a crown and regalia,” and to repeat the lines commencing--

“Was ever man so fortunate as I, To break his shins at such a stumbling-block.”

The ancient and venerable school-room, retaining, as it does, so much of its primitive character, is an object of intense interest; the thick walls, with their latticed windows, seem utterly unchanged; the very desks, heavy with ink blotches, and the deeply-carved names of hundreds of heedless urchins, may have been--possibly are--the very desks at which young Oliver sate, when “now a hard student for a week or two, and then a truant or otioso for twice as many months.”

In this town, which he afterwards represented in Parliament, he passed not only his boyhood, but the years of his prime; selling, in 1631, the small remnant of his property there, and removing to St. Ives, whence, on the death of his maternal uncle, Sir Thomas Steward, he removed, in 1636, to the Isle of Ely. It was at Huntingdon, however, he made his first essays in the cause of Freedom. Here, in 1639, he met the King’s Commissioners, who were working injustice towards those who had reclaimed the Fens; here he argued with and confuted them; boldly confronting the Crown-partisans, and thwarting the measures of the Court; so that thenceforward, until he achieved a higher title, he obtained the popular appellation of “Lord of the Fens.”

During his greatness, his native town seems to have seen very little of him; his fate was perhaps that of prophets generally, who “have no honour in their own country.” It is on record, however, that one day marching through it, he met in the main street a reverend divine, by whom his life had been saved from drowning when a boy. On reminding the clergyman of the fact, “the general” received for answer, “Yes, I well remember it, and wish I had put you in, rather than see you thus in arms against your King.”[36]

Hinchinbrook House is scarcely less intimately connected with Oliver’s early history, than is Huntingdon town; independently, therefore, of its intrinsic value, its associations

are of surpassing interest; and it is surrounded by very valuable remains of antiquity--the ancient borough of Godmanchester[37] being especially rich in relics of very olden times. The reader will perhaps consider we have done well in procuring a copy of one of them--the old Court-House--the speedy removal of which is one of the “threats” of the age. Causes tried “in open court” is a phrase familiar to all; but in ancient times, the courts were literally “open”--not to suitors alone, but to wind and weather. That at Godmanchester continued “open” until the passing of the Reform Bill. It stands in the middle of the highway where two roads meet, and is a venerable building of timber and plaster, having upon its front the date 1679; probably that of its latest alteration or reparation--for some portions of the building are certainly much older. It is inclosed in a small court-yard by a mud wall; and remained perfectly “open” up to the memorable year 1832, when for the comfort and convenience of a

new race of Aldermen, unaccustomed to privations, it was bricked and plastered in. Here then, until within the last few years, was justice ministered openly as in the most ancient times, when a broad tree not unfrequently formed the sole shelter for judge and people. Down to a comparatively late period the law courts were thus held both in Guildhall and Westminster-hall, in London. In a much earlier age Parliament was similarly seated; Richard II. erected for the Members a temporary wooden house, while rebuilding Westminster-hall; and this house was open on all sides to the weather and to all men; the members being protected by 4,000 Archers placed around them by the King--“to secure freedom of debate,” as Pennant slily remarks. Such open meeting-houses were by no means uncommon in the olden time; the Godmanchester Court-house is interesting as the last remaining relic of the custom. Another valuable relic of antiquity we found in the Church of Godmanchester; chained to the pulpit was a poor-box formed of oak strongly banded with iron. We thought it desirable to preserve a copy of it, which we have given above.

Hinchinbrook, as we have stated, passed from the family of Cromwell to that of Montagu; having been purchased by Sir Sydney Montagu, in 1627. It is the present

seat and residence of his lineal descendant, John William, the seventh Earl of Sandwich--a family ennobled by talent and bravery, but also by remote and honourable descent. Although the venerable structure has undergone sundry changes, chiefly the consequence of a fire which consumed a considerable portion of it in 1828, it retains much of its original character. The court-yard, reached through a winding avenue of trees, is entered through a singularly picturesque gate-way, which forms the subject of the appended engraving. It is built of stone, embellished and carved with more than ordinary skill. The gates are of thick oak; there are two--one to open and give admission to carriages, the other to foot passengers, who are protected by a solid balustrade, also of oak.[38]

The exterior, as we have intimated, has been considerably impaired by fire; and sufficient care does not appear to have been taken with its subsequent restoration. Notwithstanding, it continues to “display in its parts the architectural taste of the earliest as well as of the latest period of Queen Elizabeth’s reign, possessing the irregularity of design peculiar to the era.” The bay-windows are profusely embellished with shields of the family of Cromwell, the arms of Queen Elizabeth, and “a variety of heraldic cognizances denoting the honours of the Tudor line,--the falcon, the portcullis, a ton with a branch, and roses of different forms, which are upon the upper cornice of each window.” The interior has been almost entirely modernized; but the “furnishing” is in good taste, and is made to harmonize as nearly as possible with the era in which the fame of the venerable structure was achieved. The walls are covered with family portraits--principally the “living likenesses” of Lely. The library is of oak--richly and elaborately carved by the hand of some great old master.