Part 51
The renowned “family picture” by Vandyke is beyond question the great painter’s masterpiece: it is 17 feet in length, by 11 feet in height, and fills one end of the drawing-room. It contains ten whole-length figures, the two principal of which are Philip, Earl of Pembroke, and his lady, Susan, daughter of Edward, Earl of Oxford. On the right stand their three sons, on the left their daughter and her husband, Robert, Earl of Carnarvon. Before them is Lady Mary, the wife of Charles, Lord Herbert, and above them, in the clouds, are two sons and a daughter who died young. It is a most grand and glorious work, the value of which is not to be estimated by money.
The room, which is called also the Cube Room, contains some thirteen other pictures, the productions of Vandyke.
Other of the great old masters are well represented in the several apartments of the mansion: many of them are, indeed, of great beauty and value.
We might occupy much space by printing a list of these pictures: they comprise a large number of the great Italian artists. They are, however, such as one usually meets in these palatial residences, and are thrown into comparative obscurity by the glorious assemblage of Vandykes.
In Lady Pembroke’s Summer Dressing-room there is a Gothic window by Price, “to whom Parliament granted £5,000 for having discovered the ancient method of staining glass.”
The house is made thoroughly comfortable as a home; it has never been abandoned by the family, but has been their continual residence. Everywhere, consequently, there is an aspect of thorough comfort. Grace, elegance, and indeed splendour, are sufficiently apparent, but the obvious study has long been to render the dwelling in all respects the abode of an English nobleman who loved to live among his own people. None will wonder at this who knew the late Lord Herbert of Lea, who so long and so continuously lived in that delightful home.
To the Gardens and Grounds of Wilton House we desire to direct the reader’s especial attention; they have been by no means left solely to the guardianship of Nature. Art has done much to give aid to the beauties of hill and dell, and river and wooded slopes and pasture-land. Immediately around the mansion the skill of the gardener is manifest: trim walks, and pastures, and summer-houses, and conservatories add to the natural grace and beauty of the scene. One garden especially, into which there is a passage from the Drawing-room, is very beautifully laid out, overlooked by a graceful arcade, in which are vases and busts, and to which, no doubt, the family and their guests often retreat to enjoy the bounties of free air and light among the adornments that are here so lavish.
A most picturesque and singularly beautiful bridge joins the park to the grounds, crossing the Nadder. It was built from a design by Palladio, and has an open Ionic colonnade. The park slopes up from the river; and in the grounds are some of the finest cedars to be seen in England.
Here, it is said, Sir Philip Sidney wrote the “Arcadia;” and the memorable book bears conclusive evidence that he drew much of his inspiration from these gardens and grounds. The book may be, as Milton styles it, “a vain amatorious poem;” but it is full of beautiful descriptions of Nature, and shows how dearly the chivalric writer really loved the natural and the true; and it demands no strong stretch of fancy to imagine Philip Sidney, accompanied by William Shakspere, Edmund Spenser, and Philip Massinger (he was born in the place, and probably in the house), walking among these now aged trees, along these embowered walks, and by the banks of the fair river that runs to enrich them as it did centuries ago:—
“And all without were walkes and alleys dight With divers trees enrang’d in even rankes; And here and there were pleasant arbors pight, And shadie seates and sundry flowring bankes, To sit and rest the walker’s wearie shankes.”
Yes; it is obviously to these grounds and gardens that reference is made in the “Arcadia:”—
“There were hilles which garnished their proud heights with stately trees; humble vallies whose base estate seemed comforted with refreshing of silver rivers; medowes enamel with all sortes of eypleasing floures; thickets, which, being lined with most pleasant shade, were witnessed so too, by the cheerfull disposition of many well-tuned birds; each pasture stored with sheepe feeding with sober securitie, while the pretie lambes with bleating oratorie craved the dams’ comfort; here a shepheard’s boy piping as though he should neuer be old; there a young shepherdesse knitting and withall singing; and it seemed that her voice comforted her hands to worke, and her hands kept time to her voice’s musick.”
It is to-day as it was so long ago—when the sweetest of all the singers and the most heroic of all the cavaliers of old times had their healthy walks through these woods, and their poetic “talks” under the branches of these patrician trees—old then, and very old now. Truly Wilton is “a place for pleasantnesse,” and “not unfit for solitarinesse.”
“Gloriana”—Queen Elizabeth—did certainly visit this “chosen plot of fertile land;” partook of “a very fair and pleasant banquet” in this park; and from Wilton she carried away many rich gifts, including “a mermaid of gold, having a maid upon her back garnished with sparks of diamonds.”
From a queen to a man of genius, who was a good man, is not a long leap. What visitor to Wilton will forget the name of that George Herbert who was the humble and faithful servant of God—who did His work in this locality, and who, while he threw a line across the glistening Nadder (for he was the disciple as well as the friend of Izaak Walton), here wove those fancies into verse which after ages have not suffered to die?
And surely we may well close our notes on Wilton by quoting good old Izaak’s summary of the character of Lord Edward Herbert:—
“He was one of the handsomest men of his day, of a beauty alike stately, chivalric, and intellectual. His person and features were cultivated by all the disciplines of a time when courtly graces were not insignificant, because a monarch-mind informed the court, nor warlike customs rude or mechanical, for industrial nature had free play in the field, except as restrained by the laws of courtesy and honour. The steel glove became his hand, and the spur his heel; neither can we fancy him out of his place, for any place he would have made his own.”
There is yet another of the worthies of Wilton to claim and receive the homage of every visitor—the Right Hon. Sidney Herbert, created Lord Herbert of Lea before his premature death. He did not outlive his brother, the Earl, but his son inherited the titles and estates, and is now, as we have stated, the thirteenth Earl of Pembroke.
There is a statue of Sidney Herbert, by Marochetti, in the Market-place at Salisbury; and a far better statue of him, by Foley, fronts the War Office in Pall Mall: it honours him as the Secretary of War, and makes record of some of his triumphs as the gentle and genial advocate of peace and Christian charity to all mankind. “Sidney Herbert,” says Mr. Hall, who was associated with him as one of the Honorary Secretaries of the Nightingale Fund, “seemed to me a copy, and without an atom deteriorated, of his renowned relative-predecessor, Lord Herbert of Cherbury. He lived in another age, and had to discharge very different duties; but there was the same heroic sentiment, the same high chivalry, the same generous sympathy with suffering, the same stern and steady resolve to right the wrong. It is not too much to say that what we may have imagined of the chivalry of a past age we have witnessed in our own: a gentleman who gave dignity to the loftiest rank; who thought it no condescension to be kind and courteous to the very humblest who approached him. To rare personal advantages he added those of large intellectual acquirements. He spoke, if not as an orator, with impressive eloquence; as a man of practical business, few were his superiors; he had the mind of a statesman, yet gave earnest and thoughtful care to all the minor details of life. His death was a public calamity.”
No one who visits Wilton—either the town or the mansion—will leave it without seeing and examining “the New Church,” of which we give an engraving. It was erected in 1844, at the cost of Sidney Herbert, the architects being F. H. Wyatt and D. Brandon. The style, as will be perceived, is that of the ordinary Romanesque. It is a singularly beautiful and very gorgeous structure, built without regard to expense: perhaps there is nothing more perfect, of its class, in the kingdom. The following details from a local newspaper give a technical description of this edifice:—
“The church is raised on a terrace with a noble flight of steps 100 feet long, and a platform 20 feet in width. The centre entrance of the east front forms an open-recessed porch within a rich archway, which contains four columns on each side. Over this centre entrance is a series of small circular-headed arches, forming a sort of exterior gallery at the back of the one within, and producing a good deal of relief and richness. Immediately above it is a very large rose window, of elaborate design, set within a square, whose spandrils are sculptured with the emblems of the four evangelists. The lofty campanile tower is connected with the south-east angle of the building by a vestibule or cloister, whose elaborately carved open arches and columns present a pleasing contrast to the breadth and solidity of the other parts. On the same side of the church, at the west end, is a projecting porch (or vestry), which naturally increases the play and picturesqueness of the composition. Upon entering the rich door in the east front, already described, we pass between two screens of twisted columns, dividing the gallery staircase from the centre porch. Immediately opposite to this entrance is placed the font, a massive structure of black and variegated Italian marble. It is carved with lions’ heads at the corners, and the basin is richly foliated. The pedestal is of white marble in panels, inlaid with vine-leaves in black marble. The whole is raised on a black marble plinth.... The pulpit is of stone, inlaid with panels of marble, and glittering with rich mosaic-work, having also four twisted columns wholly composed of ancient mosaic, and supported by the black marble columns with alabaster capitals. The roofing of the nave and aisles is of open timber-work, stained to imitate dark chestnut.... The height of the campanile is 100 feet; and in it are hung a peal of six bells, brought from the old church. The remaining dimensions are as under: from the western porch to the chancel apse, 120 feet; width, 53 feet; width of nave between the columns, 24 feet; height, 57 feet; aisles, 13 feet wide, and 24 feet high.”
One of the most interesting places in Wilton is the famous “Royal Axminster and Wilton Carpet Factory” of Messrs. Yates and Co., and this, through the courtesy of the proprietors, may be seen by visitors to this district. This manufactory, which occupies nearly two acres of ground and gives employment to nearly four hundred people, was the first place in England where carpets were made. A charter was granted in 1701, and other charters of 1706 and 1725 (by which the weavers were made a corporate body, with stewards, &c.) were also granted. By these all persons who were not members of the body of weavers were prevented from carrying on the same business within three miles of the borough of Wilton, stamped certificates, after seven years’ apprenticeship, being given by the corporation to such men as were elected by them. The carpets then made were naturally of a coarse and very inferior character to those produced after on. To Henry, ninth Earl of Pembroke and sixth Earl of Montgomery, of whom we have spoken in a preceding page, and who died in 1751, England is indebted for the introduction of the manufacture of superior descriptions of carpets. Like many of his ancestors, he was a man of refined taste, and spent large sums of money in adorning his mansion at Wilton. Lord Orford says of him, “The soul of Inigo Jones, who had been patronised by his ancestors, seems still to hover over its favourite Wilton, and to have assisted the muses of Art in the education of this noble person. The towers, the chambers, the scenes which Holbein, Jones, and Vandyke decorated, and which Earl Thomas had enriched with the spoil of the best ages, received the last touches of beauty from Earl Henry’s hand.” The Earl during his travels in Flanders and France had taken great interest in the carpet works of those countries, and he noticed the much more general use of this article of furniture there than in England, where it was then regarded as an exotic luxury, and the idea occurred to him that the manufacture might be established in England, so as to form a new industry, and be a source of employment to the poor. He therefore entered into arrangements with artists, superintendents, and a body of workmen; brought them to England about the year 1745; and settled them in Wilton—thus laying the foundation of that branch of manufacture which now in England surpasses by far that of any other country.
The productions of this famous historical factory, to which, years ago, the looms and trade from Axminster were transferred, are entirely hand-made, and in this particular the manufactory is the only one in existence in this kingdom. Carpets of various degrees of quality and of different descriptions are here made, but whether “Brussels,” “Saxony,” “Velvet-pile,” “Axminster,” or what not, all are “real hand-made,” and all of extreme excellence, both in design and in superiority of make. “Royal carpets” for Windsor Castle, for Buckingham Palace, and other abodes of royalty, may now and then be seen by the visitor in course of weaving, and many of these better-class carpets, which are an inch or more in thickness, and of the softness of down to the tread, are of the most gorgeous character in design and in brilliancy and arrangement of colours. A “Wilton carpet” indicates a high degree of refinement in furnishing, and its enduring quality gives it a strong recommendation.
Wilton House is within three miles of venerable Salisbury, six miles or so from Stonehenge, and some three or four miles from “Old Sarum;” the visitor may, therefore, with but little sacrifice of time, examine three of the most interesting of all the relics of ancient England, while Wilton itself may well be ranked as a fourth.
If we have cathedrals grander, more extensive, and more magnificent than that of Salisbury, we have none more graceful: “the singular uniformity displayed in its design and style, the harmony which pervades its several parts and proportions, and the striking air of brightness, simplicity, and elegance, that reigns throughout the whole, all conspire to invest it with a charm peculiarly its own; whilst the great elevation of its graceful spire renders it without exception the most lofty building in the kingdom.” Grace is, indeed, its especial attribute, and beauty has not been here “a fatal gift;” for the sacred edifice seems as perfect to-day as it was many centuries ago.
Stonehenge is near at hand; that wonderful assemblage of stones which tell us—nothing, defying even the guess-work of the antiquary, concerning which tradition is dumb; yet there they stand as they stood thousands of years ago, solitary in their solemn grandeur upon the plain where the grouse and hares are even now their only neighbours.
“Old Sarum” seems but a huge waste heap: it rises high above environing scenery; there are no dwellings on the “mound”—not even one where might have been registered the return to Parliament of the member by whom it was represented, until Reform arrested its chronicles, and swept it away as a city for ever.
RABY CASTLE.
FEW counties are so rich in ancient fortresses and castellated buildings as Durham; but pre-eminent among these in historical interest, and perhaps in antiquity, is Raby Castle, which we add to our series. Situate about six or seven miles from Barnard Castle, a trifle more than that from Bishop Auckland, and about a dozen from Darlington, Raby Castle, with its grand old park, lies close to the pretty little town of Staindrop, about which we shall say a few words later on. The castle itself, with its many massive towers and turrets, is built on rising ground, on a foundation of solid rock, and is surrounded and enclosed by a massive battlemented wall, the area of the edifice, within the wall, comprising about two acres of land. The castle was formerly surrounded by a moat, the course of which, although now filled up, is clearly traceable; in its place extensive sheets of ornamental water have been very judiciously laid out, and give to the scene the effect, in approaching the castle from the park, of a fine but placid river.
Raby Park, which surrounds the castle, consists of several hundred acres of the finest land, and contains a noble herd of more than five hundred red and fallow deer. The park is entered by three Lodges of ancient and unpretentious appearance. The South Lodge, which is the main entrance, is situated about one hundred yards from Staindrop Church. On entering the Lodge, within a very short distance from here the towers of the castle are visible, and continue in sight for some considerable distance, when a sharp incline cuts off the view. On attaining the summit the grand old pile is again seen standing boldly out from the grounds, and forming a most imposing prospect, which is greatly enhanced by the sheet of water that at this point separates the castle from the observer. The carriage drive from the Lodge has hitherto been wavy and circuitous in its route, but from here it takes a straight course across the Pond, or Lake, of ten acres in extent, by means of an embankment, and again continues in a circuitous form through an avenue of grand old venerable beech-trees, which terminates at the entrance, or Porter’s Lodge, to the castle itself.
The Pond, or Lake, which is divided by the carriage drive, is situated on the west side of the castle, its western portion overflowing into the eastern half, that flows to and surrounds the south battlement walls; the Moat, which is now dry, receding from it to the east and west. The Lake is well supplied with swans and other aquatic birds.
The East Lodge is a foot entrance for the workpeople; the North Lodge, or back entrance, has two low castellated towers, one on each side of the entrance gates.
The Home Park and Woods consist of nine hundred and forty acres, which are intersected by fifteen miles of drives and walks. The Woods are beautifully varied and picturesque, especially the North Wood, which forms the north boundary of the park, and rises considerably above the castle, commanding a most extensive and charming landscape, especially on a clear sunset evening, when the old dark walls of the castle are lit up by its golden rays, which are also reflected on the far-distant Yorkshire and Richmond hills.
The Bath Wood, which is quite of a different nature from the North Wood, is situated a short distance to the west of the castle in a valley that is thickly wooded, and through which walks and drives wind their way in such varied forms as to render it one of the most enjoyable summer retreats that can possibly be desired. The walks and drives all terminate at the Bath-house, somewhat west of the centre of the wood. In front of the Bath, which consists of two rooms, supplied by a natural spring of intensely cold water, is a fine open lawn, well laid out with rhododendron beds and single specimens of conifers, with a lake-stream of water winding its way in various falls and artificial forms. This open space, or lawn, is thickly surrounded with grand old beech and spruce-fir trees, blending most charmingly together. At the back and on the north side of the Bath-house is a picturesquely built lodge or cottage, inhabited by persons who have charge of the Baths.
The Gardens are situated on the north side of the castle, on a slight incline, which commands some of the most interesting views of the north side of the building. The whole grounds pertaining to the Gardens, including the head and under gardeners’ dwellings, are enclosed within substantial time-worn brick walls, which are strictly in keeping with the castle itself. The interior is formed into various sections by brick walls and massive yew hedges, that are kept closely clipped in tapering form; in measure they are ten feet wide, and eleven feet high, and probably were planted in the days of the first occupiers of the castle. Formerly these sections were almost exclusively devoted to the culture of fruit and vegetables, but of late years bedding plants of all descriptions have been extensively introduced, associating very agreeably the ornamental with the useful. On a terrace which is bounded on one side by a stream of water is a ribbon border extending its whole length; and on the south side of the boundary wall the effect produced by the bends and receding form of the border is very charming, and the perfection of what a ribbon border should be. Glass structures are extensive, and principally devoted to fruit culture, especially to pines and grapes. Excepting the Conservatory and two or three other houses containing some very fine specimens of tropical plants, plant culture is little regarded. Most of these houses have been reconstructed on the most approved modern principles, but they are scattered about in all directions. The noble range of vineries erected some thirty years since, that contained the vines which caused so much controversy amongst horticulturists on the carrion system of vine culture, are now things of the past, and are succeeded by fine healthy canes, which must, to all present appearance, produce in the future fruit of the most approved excellence. In addition to the many glass structures devoted to fruit culture, hot-air walls are also introduced for the same purpose, which, especially in the case of apricots, insure a full crop in spite of unpropitious weather.
The most-cared-for antique occupant in the Garden is, however, the famous “Raby Fig-tree,” which, although known to be upwards of one hundred years old, still produces annually thousands of figs of the finest quality. This remarkable tree is covered by a primitive glass structure, very much in keeping with its own venerable character. The house in which the tree is planted is fifty feet in length, eight feet in width, and nearly twelve feet in height; and every possible space of this house, both walls and rafters, is occupied by this one tree, which bids fair to live and flourish and produce fruit for many a century yet to come. The house is heated by flues. Another speciality of the Gardens is the original “Raby Red Currant,” whose trees are still in as good preservation, as prolific, and as much in repute as ever.
The name of Raby points to a Danish origin, and it is first named, so far as any record is known, in connection with King Canute, who, after making his celebrated pilgrimage over Garmondsway Moor to the shrine of St. Cuthbert at Durham, offered it, with Staindrop and its shire, to the shrine of that saint. It continued, except for a time during the life of Bishop Flambard, in the peaceful possession of the monks until 1131, when they granted it, for an annual rent of £4, to Dolfin, son of Ughtred, of the blood royal of Northumberland.