THE OLD ENGLISH HOUSE.

itherto we have but glanced at the earlier periods of what may be termed Domestic Life in England. We have attempted to trace our British ancestors in their "woods and caves, and painted skins;" in their rude state, before the Roman colonization; in their advancement under that enlightened sway; and their decadence after their conquerors had left them. To these periods have succeeded the ages of Castle-building, when edifices were built for purposes of defence. In lawless times, might lorded it over right, and stronger places of abode than we regard a house were necessary for the security and protection of the inhabitants. Throughout these periods we have few evidences, from their dwellings, of how the people lived: from the earth caverns of the Early Britons to the Roman civilization is a dreary picture of rude accommodation; and though the excavation of ancient sites, and the operation of the plough, may bring to light many a splendid pavement and appliances, which denote luxurious life,—these are the remains of the embellished villas of the wealthy Roman, and not of the abodes of the conquered Briton. The Saxons lived so meanly, that it were vain to expect to find many traces of their dwellings; and of the Danes there are still fewer remains. With these exceptions we have, before the Conquest, no actually existing witnesses.

With the Norman period our series of evidences begins. For some time after the Conquest, strictly domestic remains are very scanty. The great men lived in castles, which are, indeed, domestic so far as men lived in them, but whose architecture is too much affected by military considerations to be called strictly domestic architecture, which is the building of houses, whose defence is either not thought of or is something quite secondary. It is clear that houses of this sort, of such pretensions as to possess any architectural character, or to be preserved down to our time, could not well exist, in the open country at least, till the land had become comparatively settled and civilized. Hence, our list of Norman houses in England is very scanty, and they are chiefly formed in walled towers, like Lincoln and Bury St. Edmund's. [The erection of Lincoln Castle by order of William the Conqueror, in 1086, is said to have caused the demolition of 240 houses. Perhaps the only perfect and untouched Norman example is the small unroofed house at Christ Church, in Hampshire. The church is Norman, and the tower is supposed to be of Roman origin.]

Several of the fragments elsewhere have very fine Norman detail; but for Norman architecture exhibiting anything like the real grandeur of the style, we must look to the castles and monasteries. In the thirteenth century our examples are still but few and small, though much more numerous than before. After the age of Edward III. the castle became more like a mansion, as we have seen in the castles of Windsor, Warwick, and Kenilworth.

As the character of the times became more peaceful, and law succeeded to the reign of the strong hand, a still further change took place in the construction of these dwellings, and they partook but slightly of the castellated character. Beauty and ornament were consulted by the builders instead of strength; and the convenient accommodation of the in-dwellers, in lieu of the means of disposing of a crowded garrison, and its necessary provision in time of siege. They usually retained the moat and battlemented gateway, and one or two strong turrets, to build which a royal licence was necessary. Thus, the idea of the English manor-house seems to have disengaged itself from that of the castle, and we begin to have a noble series of strictly domestic buildings, defence being quite secondary, and in no way obtruded. They were generally quadrangular in plan, the larger class inclosing two open courts, of which one contained the stables, offices, and lodgings of the household; the second, the principal or statechambers, with the hall and chapel. The windows were large and lofty, reaching almost to the ground, and several of them opening to the gardens on the outside of the building, though these were inclosed by high battlemented walls and a moat. It should, however, be remarked, that the mansion, except in edifices of considerable extent and consequence, seldom contained more than one court.

The hall, in most cases, retained its original design. It was distinguished by its superior elevation, its turreted towers (or lantern), its windows, and projecting bay. The principal doorway entered upon a vestibule or lobby, extending across the edifice, with a door of inferior dimensions at the opposite extremity, having, on one side, the lower wall of the hall, in which were doors leading to the buttery and kitchener's department; and on the other, the screen, or lofty partition of wood, designed to conceal those doors from the view of persons in the hall. In the Companies' Halls of the City of London, a moveable screen is generally used for this purpose.

The screen was often panelled with wood from top to bottom, and divided into compartments, which were enriched with shields and carved work, having usually two or three arched doorways opening on the lobby. In many instances, the minstrels' gallery was placed above this compartment.

Among the richest specimens extant of the embattled mansions are Wingfield Manor-house, in Derbyshire; Cowdray, in Sussex;[32] Kelmingham Hall, in Suffolk; Penshurst, in Kent; Deene Park, in Northamptonshire; and Thornbury Castle, in Gloucestershire. This period of the transition from the castle to the mansion is considered the best style of English architecture.

Wingfield, near the centre of Derbyshire, was built by Ralph, Lord Cromwell, who, in the time of Henry VI. was Treasurer of England, in allusion to which he had bags or purses of stones carved over the gateway of Wingfield, as well as on the manor-house of Coly Weston, in Northamptonshire, augmented by this Lord Cromwell. Wingfield Manor-house originally consisted of two square courts—one containing the principal apartments, and the other the offices. It had a noble hall lighted by a beautiful octagon window, and a range of Gothic windows, north and south. The principal entrance is by an embattled gate-house, through a pointed arch, beside the end of the great state apartment lighted by a large and rich pointed window. Here the Earl of Shrewsbury held in his custody Mary Queen of Scots, in a convenient suite of apartments, which communicated with the great tower, whence the ill-starred captive could see her friends with whom she held a secret correspondence. An attempt was made by Leonard Dacre to rescue Mary, after which Elizabeth, becoming suspicious of the Earl of Shrewsbury, directed the Lady Huntingdon to take care of the Queen of Scots in Shrewsbury's house; and had her suite reduced to thirty persons. Her captivity at Wingfield is stated to have extended to nine years, which, however, is questionable.

Thornbury Castle is picturesquely placed twenty-four miles south-west of Gloucester, on the banks of a rivulet two miles westward of "the glittering, red, and rapid Severn, embedded in its emerald vale, and shining up in splendid contrast to the shady hills of the Dean Forest." Thornbury was begun by Edward Stafford, Duke of Buckingham; its completion was prevented by his execution, in the year 1522. It is a castellated group, with battlemented towers and turrets, and enriched chimney-shafts, clothed with luxuriant ivy; its bay-windows are very fine. Buckingham fell one of the earliest victims to the cruel tyranny of our eighth Henry. The line of his pedigree is marked in blood. His father was beheaded by Richard III.; his grandfather was killed at the battle of St. Albans; his great grandfather at the battle of Northampton; and the father of this latter at the battle of Shrewsbury. More than a century had elapsed since any chief of this great family had fallen by a natural death. Edward was doomed to no nobler fate than his forefathers. Knivett, a discarded officer of Buckingham's household, furnished information to Wolsey, which led to the apprehension of his late master: it was stated that he had consulted a monk about future events; that he had declared all the acts of Henry VII. to be wrongfully done; that he had told Knivett, that if he had been sent to the Tower, when he was in danger of being committed, he would have played the part which his father had intended to perform at Salisbury—where, if he could have obtained an audience, he would have stabbed Richard III. with a knife; and that he had told Lord Abergavenny, if the king had died, he would have the rule of the land. Yet, all this was but the testimony of a spy. Buckingham confessed the real amount of his absurd inquiries from the friar. He was tried in the court of the Lord High Steward, by a jury of one duke, one marquess, seven earls, and twelve barons, who convicted him. The Duke of Norfolk shed tears on pronouncing sentence. The prisoner said: "May the eternal God forgive you my death, as I do." The only favour which he could obtain was, that the ignominious part of a traitor's death should be remitted. He was accordingly beheaded on the 17th of May, 1521; whilst the surrounding people vented their indignation against Wolsey by loud cries of "The butcher's son!" The half-built and decaying Thornbury has prompted this saddening history of its founder and his ill-fated family.

Longleat, in Wiltshire, the seat of the Marquis of Bath, and built in the reign of Edward VI., is, for its date, esteemed the most regular building in the kingdom. Upon its site was originally a priory, which came into the possession of the Thynne family, in the reign of Henry VIII. The present mansion was commenced by the first proprietor of that family, and completed for his successors by an Italian architect: it consists of three stories, Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian, adorned with rich pilasters, handsome balustrades, and statues; and from the roof rise several cupolas. The apartments are large and sumptuous; and the great hall is two stories in height. The gardens were originally embellished with fountains, cascades, and statues, and laid out in formal parterres; but the whole has been newly remodelled. The entire domain is fifteen miles in circuit; and in magnitude, grandeur, and variety of decoration, Longleat has always been the pride of this part of the country. Its collection of pictures includes many portraits of eminent persons in the reign of Queen Elizabeth and her successors.

In the time of Elizabeth and James I. were erected many mansions upon splendid and extensive scales. John Thorpe built five palaces for Elizabeth's ministers: for Lord Burghley, Theobalds and Burghley; Wimbledon, for Sir Robert Cecil; Hollenby and Kirby, for Lord Chancellor Hatton; and Buckhurst for the Earl of Dorset. Thorpe also built for Sir Walter Cope, Holland House, Kensington, about 1606, which received its name from Henry Rich, Earl of Holland, by whom the mansion was greatly altered. Its plan is that of half the letter H, of deep red brick, with pilasters and their entablature; the window dressings, and coping, of stone. Few of the apartments retain their original character; some of the interior is supposed to be by Inigo Jones. The gilt room is by Cleyn, an artist largely employed by James I. and Charles I.; the figures over the fireplace are worthy of Parmegiano, and here is a very fine collection of modern busts.

Burghley, Northamptonshire, has the rare fortune of remaining to this time the seat of the descendants of the great Lord Burghley, for whom the mansion was built; the present noble owner being the Marquis of Exeter: in approaching it from Stamford, its singular chimneys, the variety of its turrets, towers, and cupolas, and the steeple of its chapel rising from its centre, give it the appearance more of a small city than a single building.

Hatfield, in Hertfordshire, which has been a palace, episcopal, royal, and noble, for upwards of seven centuries, was mostly built by Thorpe, in 1611. The old palace was of the twelfth century: here is the chamber in which the Princess Elizabeth was kept for some time a state prisoner; and in the present mansion, Charles I. was confined. In plan, Hatfield is in the form of half the letter H: each front differs from the other, but in unity of design the Tudor period is remarkably prevalent, and it is believed that no house in the kingdom erected at so early a date, remains so entire as this.

A stately mansion of this period was erected at Campden, in Gloucestershire, at an expense of 29,000l.; it occupied eight acres, was of splendid architecture, and had a large dome rising from the roof, which was illuminated nightly for the guidance of travellers. Campden was burnt during the Civil War.

Haddon Hall, near Bakewell, in Derbyshire, erected at various periods, affords excellent examples of the several styles of domestic architecture, from the early pointed, to the Tudor and Elizabethan. It was originally a barton, or farm, given by William the Conqueror to his natural son, William Peverell. The mansion is preserved intact: the tapestry and paneling remain; the carved wainscoting and ornamented ceiling of the long gallery are of the time of Elizabeth; the banqueting-hall is equally perfect; the chapel is a good specimen of the early Pointed Gothic. Haddon is one of the curiosities of the Peak country. Many years since Mr. Reinagle painted a picture of this famous old place, which evoked the following poetical tribute to its truthfulness:—

"Gre weeds o'ertop thy ruin'd wall,
Grey, venerable Haddon Hall;
The swallow twitters through thee:
Who would have thought, when, in their pride,
Thy battlements the storm defied,
That Time should thus subdue thee?
"While with a famed and far renown
England's third Edward wore the crown,
Up sprang'st thou in thy glory;
And surely thine (if thou couldst tell,
Like the old Delphian Oracle)
Would be a wondrous story.
"How many a Vernon thou hast seen,
Kings of the Peak thy walls within;
How many a maiden tender;
How many a warrior stem and steel'd,
In burganet, and lance, and shield,
Array'd with martial splendour.
"Then, as the soft autumnal breeze
Just curl'd the lake, just stirr'd the trees,
In the blue cloudless weather,
How many a gallant hunting train,
With hawk in hood, and horse in rein,
Forsook thy courts together!
"The grandeur of the olden time
Mounted thy towers with pride sublime,
Enlivening all who near'd them;
From Hippocras and Sherris sack
Palmer or pilgrim turn'd not back
Before thy cellars cheer'd them.
"Since thine unbroken early day,
How many a race hath pass'd away,
In charnel vault to moulder—
Yet Nature round thee breathes an air
Serenely bright, and softly fair,
To charm the awed beholder.
"The past is but a gorgeous dream,
And Time glides by us like a stream,
While musing on thy story;
And sorrow prompts a deep alas!
That, like a pageant thus, should pass
To wreck all human glory."

It is now time to speak more in detail of the main apartment—the chief feature of an ancient residence of every class—the Great Hall, which often gave its name to the whole house. A very able writer has thus lucidly yet briefly told its history:—"In the early houses, the hall is almost the whole house; there is nothing besides, except the requisite offices and a room or two for the lord and the lady. The mass of the household slept how they might in the hall. Gradually, as civilization increased, the accommodation in a house became greater, and the relative importance—sometimes the positive size—of the Hall gradually diminishes. The family gradually deserted it, and the modern luxury of the dining-room was introduced. The withdrawing-room, that into which they withdrew from the hall, had already appeared. At last, in the sixteenth century, the Hall, though still a grand feature, became, as now, a mere entrance, often with rooms over it."

Sometimes, the Great Hall was raised upon an undercroft of stone vaulting, as we see in the Guildhall, the undercroft of which is the finest specimen of its class in the metropolis. Gerard's Hall, in Basing-lane, built by John Gisors, pepperer, Mayor of London in 1245, and is described by Stow as "a great house of old time, builded upon arched vaults, and with arched gates of stone, brought from Cane, in Normandy."

Aubrey, writing in the seventeenth century, thus describes, in his quaint way, the characteristics of the old manorial or hall houses of the times of the Plantagenets and Tudors: "The architecture of an old English gentleman's house (especially in Wiltshire and thereabouts) was a high strong wall, a gate-house, a Great Hall, and parlours, and within the little green court, where you come in, stood on one side the barne. They then thought not the noise of the threshold ill musique."

To come to details. The Great Hall corresponded to the refectory of the abbey. The principal entrance to the main building, from the front or outer court, opened into a thorough lobby, having on one side several doors or arches, leading to the buttery,[33] kitchen, and domestic offices; on the other side, the Hall, parted off by a screen, generally of wood, elaborately carved, and enriched with shields and a variety of ornaments, and pierced with several arches, having folding-doors. Above the screen, and over the lobby, was the minstrels' gallery; on its front were usually hung armour, antlers, and similar memorials of the family exploits.

The Hall itself was a large and lofty room, in the shape of a parallelogram; the roof, the timbers of which were framed with pendants, generally richly carved and emblazoned with arms, formed one of the most striking features. "The top beam of the Hall," in allusion to the position of his coat-of-arms, was a symbolical manner of drinking the health of the master of the house. At the upper end of the apartment, furthest from the entrance, the floor was usually raised a step, and this part was styled the daïs, or high place. On one side of the daïs was a deep embayed window, reaching nearly down to the floor; the other windows ranged along one or both sides of the Hall, at some height above the ground, so as to leave room for wainscoting, or arras, below them. We see this arrangement to great advantage in the Great Hall at Hampton Court Palace, where the wall beneath the windows is hung with Flemish tapestry, in eight compartments, the arabesque borders of which are very beautiful; the subject is the History of Abraham. The tapestry at the entrance of the Hall is of much earlier date, being in the school of Albert Durer: the subject, Justice and Mercy pleading before Kings or Judges. The withdrawing-room is also hung with tapestry, the subjects mostly mythological; and the oriel-window is filled with armorial stained glass.

The Hall windows generally were enriched with stained glass, representing the armorial bearings of the family, their connexions, and royal patrons; and between the windows were hung full-length portraits of the same persons. The windows were not, however, permanently glazed till the fifteenth century. Before that, it was the custom for the glazed casements to be carried about from manor to manor along with the other furniture; every man of rank, whether civil or ecclesiastical, was in the habit of travelling with all his retinue, from one estate to another, so as to consume the produce of each estate upon the spot. It is this custom, or rather necessity, which explains the multitude of manorial houses possessed by every mediæval magnate, and the constant migrations from one to the other. Royal writs and documents are frequently dated from the most insignificant places where the court, on its progress from one royal manor to another, might happen to be staying.[34]

To return to the Hall. The Royal arms usually occupied a conspicuous station at either end of the room. The head-table was laid for the lord and principal guests on the raised place, parallel with the upper end wall; and other tables were ranged along the sides for inferior visitors and retainers. Tables, thus placed, were said to stand banquet-wise. In the centre of the Hall was the rere-dosse, or fire-iron, against which fagots were piled, and burnt upon the stone floor, the smoke passing through an aperture in the roof immediately overhead, which was generally formed into an elevated lantern, a conspicuous ornament to the exterior of the building. In later times, a wide-arched fireplace was formed in the wall on one side of the room.

The Halls, in fact, of our colleges, at either University, and the Inns of Court, still remain as in Aubrey's time, accurate examples of the ancient and baronial and conventual Halls: preserving not merely their original form and appearance, but the identical arrangement and service of the table. Even the central fire has been, in some instances, kept up, being of charcoal, burnt in a large braziere, in lieu of the rere-dosse. The open fire was so kept up, at Westminster School, so late as 1850. The Halls of the temple, Gray's Inn, and Staple Inn, have their lanterns; and even the Hall of Barnard's Inn, the oldest and the smallest, has its lantern; the newly built Hall of Lincoln's Inn has a very ornamental one; and the new roof of the Guildhall is to have a lantern with a lofty spire. The lantern of Westminster Hall is large and picturesque; it is modern, of cast-iron, but is an exact copy of the original one, erected near the end of the fourteenth century. As the existing lanterns are no longer required for the egress of smoke, they are glazed.

In other respects, probably, little, if anything, has been altered since the Tudor era; and he who is anxious to know the mode in which our ancestors dined in the reigns of the Henrys and Edwards, may be gratified by attending that meal in the Great Halls of Christchurch or Trinity, and tasking his imagination to convert the principal and fellows at the upper table, into the stately baron, his family, and guests; and the gowned commoners at the side-tables, into the liveried retainers. The service of the kitchen, buttery, and cellar is conducted, at the present day, precisely according to the ancient custom.[35]

Gradually, the solar or private sitting-room of the matron or mistress of the house increased in importance. Its most usual position was at one end of the Hall, on an upper level, raised above an apartment which was used as a cellar or a store-room.

The Hall is, of course, the part of a house or castle where the art of architecture proper has the best opportunity of displaying itself. So, in a monastery, the refectory comes next in grandeur to the church and chapter-house. Indeed, some of the early Halls were built not unlike churches, with two rows of pillars. In a wooden construction this is not uncommon both in halls and barns; but the examples we mean have two regular aisles with stone pillars and arches. Such was the original Westminster Hall, till Richard II. threw it into one body under the present magnificent single roof. The finest existing example is perhaps that superb one at Oakham Castle, of the best architecture of the end of the twelfth century. In the next century we have the Hall of the Royal Palace at Winchester used like that at Oakham, for an assize-court. Of single-bodied halls of the fourteenth century, nothing can surpass those of Caerphilly Castle in Glamorganshire, and Mayfield Palace in Sussex. Mayfield has, and Caerphilly seems to have been designed to have, a very effective arrangement of stone arches thrown across at intervals to support the roof, and to produce something of the effect of actual vaulting. The same is the case at Conway. Most of these examples are ruined.[36] Mayfield has lately been restored.

The gallery was brought into use with the Elizabethan style of architecture, and became a prominent feature among the apartments of houses in that style. The gallery at Hatfield, with a magnificently gilded ceiling—a blaze of gold—is a fine specimen: it was regilt just previous to the visit of Queen Victoria to Hatfield in 1846: a state ball was given in this gallery, and we remember to have been told the day after the Royal visit, that during the dance there fell from Her Majesty's hand a rose, which was immediately taken up by a gentleman of the company; on bended knee he presented it to the Queen, who most graciously returned the flower, which, we doubt not, is preserved.

The extensive passages in some ancient houses have, no doubt, been originally similar to the open galleries round our old inns, of which we have examples, year by year, diminishing in number. These passages were ultimately inclosed for comfort and convenience. The staircases, in ancient times, were usually cylindrical, and were carried up in a separate turret: it was not until the age of Elizabeth that the massive staircase, with its broad hand-rails, balustrades, and enriched ornaments, was introduced into the mansion; that of a later period is familiarly known as a "Queen Anne staircase."

The royal parlour of Eltham is a perfect specimen of the banqueting-hall, and was the frequent residence of our kings before Henry VIII.; and here they held their great Christmas feasts. Two thousand guests in 1483 were entertained here at Christmas, by Edward IV., the royal builder of the Hall. His badges—the falcon, the fetterlock, and rose-en-soleil—are sculptured over the chief entrance; and Edward is represented by Skelton as saying:

"I made Nottingham a palace royal,
Windsor, Eltham, and many mo'."

Princesses have been cradled here, Parliaments have met in the Great Hall, and kings and queens have betaken themselves here to meditate upon the waning earthly greatness. The gloomy Henry VII. at intervals retired to Eltham; Queen Mary or Queen Elizabeth would spend a few days in the almost forsaken palace; and James I. had been known to pass a morning here.

Eltham is now a regal ruin. "The fair pleasaunce, the echoing courts, the king's lodging, presence and guard chamber, and the rooms in which the royal attendants lodged, have all disappeared. The gateway and high walls of ruddy brick only remain to mark the site of the tilt-yard. The moat is half dry, and the sluggish stream is still spanned by the bridge of four arches, which is contemporaneous with the Hall; but 'the gateway and the fair front towards the moat,' built by Henry VII., have been replaced by two modern houses; and another, with three barge-board gables, and corbelled attics, to the east end of the Hall, retains the designation of the Buttery. There is a view of the Hall by Buck, dated 1735, which represents a great portion of the palace, with its quaint water-towers and moated walls still standing; but, although Parliament in 1827 spent £700 upon the repairs, the state of the Hall is sad enough now: full of litter of every sort, its windows unglazed or bricked up; with damp fastenings in the naked walls, and rough rafters stretching across from side to side, and reaching above the corbels. It is now used as a barn. It was at once an audience-chamber and refectory, 100 feet in length, 55 in height, and 36 feet broad. But the windows now admit broad streams of cheerful sunshine, which light up the thick trails of ivy that flow over the empty panes; its deep bay-window, now stripped of glazing, but enriched with groining and tracery which flanked the daïs, betoken the progress which elegance and security had made at the period of their erection: the lofty walls continue to support a high pitched roof of oak, in tolerable preservation, with hammer-beams, carved pendants, and braces supported on corbels of hewn stone; and although the royal table, the hearth, and louvre have disappeared, there are still remains of the minstrels' gallery, and the doors in the oak screen below it, which lead to the capacious kitchen, the butteries, and cellars, to tell each their several tale of former state."[37]

Hitherto, we have mostly spoken of palaces and mansions. It is, however, very difficult to discover any fragments of houses inhabited by the gentry, before the reign, at soonest, of Edward III., or even to trace them by engravings in the older topographical works; not only from the dilapidations of time, but because very few considerable mansions had been erected by that class. It is an error to suppose that the English gentry were lodged in stately, or even in well-sized houses. They usually consisted of an entrance-passage, running through the house, with a hall on one side, a parlour beyond, and one or two chambers above; and on the opposite side, a kitchen, pantry, and other offices. Such was the ordinary manor-house of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. "In the remains of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, Somersetshire is especially rich. Almost every village has a house, a parsonage, or some building or other of this class, to say nothing of extensive monastic remains, as at Glastonbury, Woodspring, Muchelney, and Old Cleve. Among the Somersetshire houses, the original portions of Clevedon Court may claim the first place. Then comes a long list, of which, perhaps, the manor-house and 'fish-house' of Meare, near Glastonbury, are the most curious and beautiful."[38]

Larger houses were erected by men of great estates during the reigns of Henry VI. and Edward IV.; but very few can be traced higher; and Mr. Hallam, in his History of the Middle Ages, conceives it to be difficult to name a house in England, still inhabited by a gentleman, and not of the castle description, the principal apartments of which are older than the reign of Henry VII. There may be a few solitary specimens of earlier date. The Rev. Mr. Lysons says:—"The most remarkable fragment of early building which I have anywhere found mentioned, is at a house in Berkshire, called Appleton, where there is a sort of prodigy—an entrance-passage with circular arches in the Saxon (? Norman) style, which must, probably, be as old as the reign of Henry II. No other private house in England, as I conceive, can boast of such a monument of antiquity."

Wood and stone were the earliest materials used in house-building; but as great part of England affords no stone fit for building, her oak-forests were thinned, and less durable dwellings were erected with inferior timber. Stone houses are, however, mentioned as belonging to the citizens of London, even in the latter half of the twelfth century. Flints bound together with strong cement were employed in building manor-houses. Hewn stone was employed for castles, and the larger mansions: much stone was, in early times, brought from Normandy. Chestnut was much employed. Evelyn, in his Sylva, states that "The chestnut is, next the oak, one of the most sought after by the carpenter and joiner. It hath formerly built a good part of our ancient houses in the City of London, as does yet appear. I had once a very large barn near the City, framed entirely of this timber; and certainly the trees grew not far off, probably in some woods near the town; for in that description of London, written by Fitz-Stephen, in the reign of Henry II. he speaks of a very noble and large forest which grew on the boreal [north] part of it."[39]

Ducarel, in his Anglo-Norman Antiquities, says: "Rudhall, near Ross, in Herefordshire, is built with chestnut, which probably grew on the estate, although no tree of the kind is now to be found growing wild in that part of the country. The old houses in the city of Gloucester are constructed of chestnut, derived assuredly from the chestnut-trees in the forest of Dean. In some of the oldest houses of Faversham much genuine chestnut as well as oak is employed. In the nunnery of Davington, near Faversham (now entire), the timber consists of oak, intermingled with chestnut."

In the fourteenth century, ornamental carpentry had reached a high degree of excellence. There are many examples of ancient timber houses yet remaining in this country: they have massive beams and timbers, and are generally of unnecessary strength. The intermixture of wood, brick, and stone, or wood and plaster, in the exterior of houses, was, for a considerable period, the common style of building in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. Weatherboard—that is, planks overlapping each other—was formerly much used for house-fronts, and possessed great durability. Overhanging roofs, walls of plaster with lofty gables, bay-windows, and porches of timber, with each story projecting beyond the other, are so many characteristics of a mixed style, when the rude dangers of the timber houses became progressively intermingled with the massive architecture of a subsequent period; and the external use of timber in the walls continued to prevail for a very long time. Beaconsfield Rectory, of the sixteenth century, has the basement story completely built of glazed bricks in chequered patterns; the superincumbent story has elevated roofs and gables, and is constructed with massive timbers placed near together, and plastered between. The staircase, which is semi-cylindrical and composed of timber, is added to the north side of the house. The entire structure forms three sides of a quadrangle, with a lofty wall and entrance on the fourth; its interior is rude and massive.

In an account of a topographical excursion in 1634, the hall of Kenilworth is described with a roof "all of Irish wood, neatly and handsomely framed;" in it are five chimneys, "answerable to so great a room:" then we read of the Guard, Presence, and Privy chambers, fretted above richly with coats of arms, and all adorned with fair and rich chimney-pieces of alabaster, black marble, and joiners' work in curiously carved wood; all the fair and rich rooms and lodgings in the spacious tower not long since built, and repaired at great cost by Leicester. "The priuate, plaine, retiring-chamber wherein or renowned Queene of euer famous memory, alwayes made choice to repose her Selfe. Also the famous, strong old tower, called Julius Cæsar's, on top whereof was view'd the pleasant, large Poole continually sporting and playing on the Castle: the Parke, and the fforest contiguous thereto." Kenilworth has been already described at pp. [101-103].

Many a middle-aged reader can recollect the disappearance of rows of gabled houses, with timber and plaster fronts, from the metropolis: great part of the High-street of Southwark, built in this manner, was taken down between 1810 and 1831; at the latter period, some houses with ornamental plaster fronts disappeared. In Chancery-lane, a very old thoroughfare, several houses of this class have been taken down within memory; and many an old house-front, with ornamental carving, is missed from the Strand; a few linger in Holywell-street and Wych-street. And, in 1865, was taken down one side of Great Winchester-street, stated to be one of the oldest specimens of domestic architecture remaining in the metropolis. The casement hung on hinges was the earliest form of window, properly so called. Sash-windows were not introduced till the early part of the reign of Charles I., and were not general till the latter part of the time of Queen Anne.

In the construction of farm-houses and cottages there have been, probably, fewer changes than in large mansions. Cottages in England seem to have generally consisted of a single room, without division of stories. The Spaniards who came to England in Queen Mary's time, wondered when they saw the large diet used by the inmates of the most homely-looking cottages. "The English, they said, make their houses of sticks and dirt, but they fare as well as the king; whereby it appeareth (says Harrison), that they like better of our goode fare in such coarse cabins, than of their own thin diet in their princelike habitations and palaces."

In various counties we can scarcely fail to be struck with the difference in the forms of the cottages, as in the height of the building, the pitch of the roof, as well as the materials. Only let the traveller on the Brighton railway look out after he has passed Redhill, and he may see evidence of the truth of the above remark. Cobbett has left us this charming picture of the Sussex cottages in one of his Rural Rides:—

"I never had," he writes, "that I recollect, a more pleasant journey, or ride, than this into Sussex. The weather was pleasant, the elder-trees in full bloom, and they make a fine show; the woods just in their greatest beauty; the grass-fields generally uncut; and the little gardens of the labourers full of flowers; the roses and honeysuckles perfuming the air at every cottage door. Throughout all England, these cottages and gardens are the most interesting objects that the country presents, and they are particularly so in Kent and Sussex. This part of these counties has the great blessing of numerous woods; these furnish fuel, nice, sweet fuel, for the heating of ovens and all other purposes: they afford materials for the making of pretty pigsties, hurdles, and dead fences, of various sorts; they afford materials for making little cow-sheds; for the sticking of peas and beans in the gardens; and for giving to everything a neat and substantial appearance. These gardens, and the look of the cottages, the little flower-gardens, which you everywhere see, and the beautiful hedges of thorn and of privet,—these are the objects to delight the eyes, to gladden the heart, and to fill it with gratitude to God, and love for the people; and as far as my observation has gone, they are objects to be seen in no other country in the world. Those who see nothing but the nasty, slovenly places in which labourers live round London, know nothing of England. The fruit-trees are all kept in the nicest order; every bit of paling or wall is made use of, for the training of some sort or other. At Lamberhurst, which is one of the most beautiful villages that ever man set his eyes on, I saw what I never saw before, namely, a gooseberry-tree trained against a house. The house was one of those ancient buildings, consisting of a frame of oak-wood, the interval filled up with brick, plastered over. The tree had been planted at the foot of one of the perpendicular pieces of wood; from the stem which mounted up this piece of wood were taken side limbs, to run along the horizontal pieces. There were two windows, round the frame of each of which the limbs had been trained. The height of the highest shoot was about ten feet from the ground, and the horizontal shoots from each side were from eight to ten feet in length. The tree had been judiciously pruned, and all the limbs were full of very large gooseberries, considering the age of the fruit. This is only one instance out of thousands that I saw of extraordinary pains taken with the gardens."

Those who love the picturesque will excuse our halting to sketch an episode from the history of the royal forest of Ashdown, in Sussex, once possessed by John of Gaunt, and hence called "Lancaster great Park." Upon the borders of the forest lies the manor of Brambertie of Domesday, and Brambletye of Horace Smith; the home of the Comptons, and in the tale of fiction, as in fact, dismantled by Parliament troopers, and within two centuries a ruin. Richard Lewknor is the first person described as of Brambletye. He most probably built in one of the forest glens the moated mansion known as "Old Brambletye House," which, with its gables and clustered chimneys, and its moat and drawbridge, long remained an interesting specimen of the fortified manor-house of the reign of Henry VII. We remember the old place, some sixty years since, but it has long been taken down. Towards the middle of the seventeenth century, Brambletye came into the possession of the Comptons, an ancient Roman Catholic family; and here Sir Henry Compton built himself, from an Italian design, another Brambletye House, of the white stone of the country. Over the principal entrance to the mansion were sculptured the coat-armour of Compton, with the arms of Spencer, in a shield, on the dexter side: and on the upper story was cut in stone, C. H. M. 1631. This fixes the period when the house was built; and when Sir Henry Compton, who had before inhabited the old moated house in the neighbourhood, abandoned it to take up his residence in this once elegant and substantial baronial mansion.

From the court-rolls of the manor, it does not appear who succeeded the Comptons in the property; but Sir James Rickards, in his patent of baronetcy, 1683-4, is described as of Brambletye House. The story goes, that "a proprietor of the mansion being suspected of treasonable purposes, officers of justice were dispatched to search the premises, when a considerable quantity of arms and military stores was discovered and removed; he was out hunting at the time, but receiving intimation of the circumstance, deemed it most prudent to abscond." The historical version is, that in the Civil War, Sir John Compton, a true Royalist, took an active part against the Parliament armies: although never capable of any regular defence, yet Brambletye, being partially fortified, refused the summons of the Parliamentary Colonel Okey, by whom it was invested and speedily taken. The mansion was subsequently deserted. From a sketch taken in 1780, the principal front was nearly entire: it consisted of three square towers, the entrance doorway being in the central tower; the two wings had handsome bay-windows; the three towers were surmounted with cupolas and weather-vanes; but one had half its cupola shattered away, and was internally blackened, as if with gunpowder. In front of the house were an inclosed courtyard and two entrance-gates, one flanked by two massive, square towers, with cupolas. Horace Smith having named his romance Brambletye House, the opening scenes being laid there, has sent hundreds of tourists to pic-nic among the ruins; but the spoilers were constantly at work. Some fifteen years ago, "all that remained of Brambletye House was one of the towers clothed with stately ivy, and little more than one story of each of the other towers; the intervening portions, with their bay-windows, had disappeared. Nature had, however, lent a helping hand: by the shrubby trees and the ivy, the ruins had gained that picturesqueness which so often lends a graceful charm to scenes of decaying art."[40]


[THE ENGLISHMAN'S FIRESIDE.]

ealthful Warmth and Ventilation are to this day problems to be worked out; and few practical subjects have so extensively enlisted ingenious minds in their service. Yet, much remains to be done.

Dr. Arnott, the worthy successor of Count Rumford[41] in heat philosophy, when seeking to shame us out of using ill-contrived fireplaces and scientific bunglings, tells us that the savages of North America place fire in the middle of the floor of their huts, and sit around in the smoke, for which there is escape only in the one opening in the hut, which serves as chimney, window, and door. Some of the peasantry in remote parts of Ireland and Scotland still place their fires in the middle of their floors, and, for the escape of the smoke, leave only a small opening in the roof, often not directly over the fire. In Italy and Spain, almost the only fires seen in sitting-rooms are large dishes of live charcoal, or braziers, placed in the middle, with the inmates sitting around, and having to breathe the noxious carbonic-acid gas which ascends from the fire, and mixes with the air in the room; there being no chimney, the ventilation of the room is imperfectly accomplished by the windows and doors. The difference between the burned air from a charcoal fire, and smoke from a fire of coal or wood, is that in the latter there are added to the chief ingredient, carbonic acid, which is little perceived, others which disagreeably affect the eyes and nose, and so force attention.

With these facts before us, it is not difficult to imagine how our ancestors tolerated the nuisance of wood smoke filling their rooms till it found its way through the roof lantern, as was generally the case until the general introduction of chimneys late in the reign of Elizabeth. It should, however, be mentioned that the temperature of their apartments was kept considerably below that of our sitting-rooms in the present day. Before the fourteenth century, except for culinary and smithery purposes, robust Englishmen appear to have cared little about heating their dwellings, and to have dispensed with it altogether during the warmer months of the year. Even so late as the reign of Henry VIII. it seems that no fire was allowed in the University of Oxford: after supping at eight o'clock, the students went to their books till nine in winter, and then took a run for half an hour to warm themselves previously to going to bed. Therefore, all ideas of the firesides of our forefathers should be confined to four centuries.

The usage of making the fire in the middle of the hall, a lover of olden architecture says, "was not without its advantages: not only was a greater amount of heat obtained, but the warmth became more generally diffused, which, when we consider the size of the hall, was a matter of some importance. The huge logs were piled upon the andirons or thrown upon the hearth, and the use of wood and charcoal had few of those inconveniences which would have resulted from coal;" an opinion strangely at variance with that of the heat philosopher already quoted.

We are now approaching the age of Chimneys. A practical writer has thus pictured the domestic contrivance, ad interim: "The hearth recess was generally wide, high, deep, and had a large flue. The hearth, usually raised a few inches above the floor, had sometimes a halpas or daïs made before it, as in the King's and Queen's chambers in the Tower. Before the hearth recess, or on the halpas, when there was one, a piece of green cloth or tapestry was spread, as a substitute for the rushes that covered the lower part of the floor. On this were placed a very high-backed chair or two, and foot-stools, that sometimes had cushions; and above all high-backed forms, and screens, both most admirable inventions for neutralizing draughts of cold air in these dank and chilling apartments. Andirons, fire-forks, fire-pans, and tongs were the implements to supply and arrange the fuel. Hearth recesses with flues were common in the principal chambers and houses of persons of condition; and were superseding what Aubrey calls flues, like loover holes, in the habitations of all classes. The adage that 'one good fire heats the whole house,' was found true only in the humbler dwellings; for in palace and mansion, though great fires blazed in the presence-chamber, or hall, or parlour, the domestics were literally famishing with cold. This discomfort did not, however, proceed from selfish or stingy housekeeping, but rather from an affectation of hardihood, particularly among the lower classes, when effeminacy was reckoned a reproach. Besides, few could know what comfort really was; but those who did, valued it highly. Sanders relates that Henry VIII. gave the revenues of a convent, which he had confiscated, to a person who placed a chair for him commodiously before the fire and out of all draughts."

On the introduction of chimneys, in the year 1200, only one chimney was allowed in a manor-house, and one in the great hall of a castle or lord's house: other houses had only the rere-dosse, a sort of raised hearth, where the inmates cooked their food. Harrison, in a passage prefixed to Holinshed's Chronicle, writes in the reign of Elizabeth: "There are old men dwelling in the village where I remayne, who have noted three things to be marvellously altered in England, within their sound remembrance. One is the multitude of chimneys lately erected; whereas, in their younger days, there was not about two or three, if so many, in most uplandish towns of the realm (the religious houses and manor places of the lords always excepted, and peradventure some great personage's); but each made his fire against a reré-dosse in the hall, where he dined and dressed his meat."

Numerous instances, however, remain of fireplaces and chimneys of the fourteenth century, even in the hall, though they were more usual in the smaller apartments. In the hall at Meare, in Somersetshire, the fireplace had a hood of stone, perfect, finely corbelled out; and by the side of the fireplace is a bracket for a light, ornamented with foliage.

It is curious to find chimneys constructed of so combustible a material as wood. In the Liber Albus of the City of London, 1419, it is ordered by Wardmote "that no chimney be henceforth made, except of stone, tiles, or plaster, and not of timber, under pain of being pulled down."

In the metropolis, we possess a hall of the fifteenth century, which has a fireplace, the existence of which, in a hall of this age, is singular, if not unique. In the north wall of the celebrated hall of Crosby Place, Bishopsgate Street, is a fireplace with a low pointed arch. The builder must have possessed a more refined taste than his contemporaries, and feeling the inconvenience attending a fire of the old description (in the middle of the hall) adopted the plan of confining it to the recessed fireplace and the chimney.[42] Here we may mention the "smoke-loft," which seems to mean the wide space in the old-fashioned chimney.

It is curious to find that a tax was once paid upon a fire in England. Such was "the smoke farthings" levied by the clergy upon every person who kept a fire. The "hearth money" was a similar tax, but was paid to the king: it was first levied in 1653, and its last collection was in 1690.

In the Tapestry room of St. James's Palace is a stone Tudor arched fireplace, sculptured with H. A. (Henry and Anne), united by a true lover's knot, surmounted by the regal crown and the lily of France, the portcullis of Westminster, and the rose of Lancaster.

By a record of 1511, it appears that the hall-fire was discontinued on Easter Day, then called God's Sunday. In the Festival, published in the above year, we read: "This day is called, in many places, Goddes Sundaye: ye know well that it is the maner at this daye to do the fire out of the hall, and the black wynter brondes, and all thynges that is foule with fume and smoke, shall be done awaye, and where the fyre was shall be gayly arayed with fayre floures, and strewed with grene rysshes all aboute." The andirons being cleared away, the space whereon the fire was made, on the hearth, was strewed with green rushes; whence the custom, in our time, of decorating, in the country, stove-grates with evergreens, and flowers, and paper ornaments, when they are not used for fires. Rushes were, at this time, much in use. At Canterbury, one of the oldest cities in England, at the end of Mercery-lane, is pointed out the site of the ancient rush-market, in which stood a great cross, painted and gilt. We still employ rushes made into matting, for the floors of churches.

Coal is first mentioned in 1245; but the smoke was supposed to corrupt the air so much, that Edward I. forbade the use of that kind of fuel by proclamation; and among the records in the Tower, Mr. Astle found a document, importing that in the time of Edward I. a man had been tried, convicted, and executed, for the crime of burning sea-coal in London.

Coal first came into general use in the north of England.[43] Wood billets, however, long remained the principal fuel of the south; and the contrivance for burning such fuel with economy was the first deviation in metal from the rude simplicity of the rere-dosse towards the close fire-grate. This consisted of useful iron trestles, called hand-irons, or andirons, formerly common in England, and yet occasionally to be met with in old mansions and farm-houses, under the appellation of dogs. Originally, these articles were not only found in the houses of persons of good condition, but in the bedchamber of the king himself. Strutt, writing in 1775, says: "These awnd-irons are used at this day, and are called cob-irons: they stand on the hearth, where they burn wood, to lay it upon; their fronts are usually carved, with a round knob at the top; some of them are kept polished and bright; anciently many of them were embellished with a variety of ornaments." In another place, giving an inventory of the bedchamber of Henry VIII. in the palace of Hampton Court, including awnd-irons, with fire-fork, tongs, and fire-pan, Strutt adds, "of the awnd-irons, or as they are called by the moderns, cob-irons, myself have seen a pair which in former times belonged to some noble family. They were of copper, highly gilt, with beautiful flowers, enamelled with various colours disposed with great art and elegance." At Hever Castle in Kent,—the family seat of the Boleyns, as well as the property of Anne of Cleves, and which Henry VIII. with matchless cupidity claimed in right of a wife from whom, previously to her being beheaded, he had been divorced,—is a pair of elegant andirons, bearing the royal initials H. A. and surmounted with a royal crown. And, in an inventory of Henry's furniture in the Tower of London, we find mentioned "two round pairs of irons, upon which to make fire in, and for conveying fire from one apartment to another."

Shakspeare thus minutely describes a pair of andirons belonging to a lady's chamber:—

"Two winking Cupids
Of silver, each on one foot standing,
Depending on their brands nicely."—Cymbeline.

A middle sort of irons, called creepers, was smaller, and usually placed within the dogs, to keep the ends of the wood and brands from the hearth, that the fire might burn more freely. A pair of these irons is thus described in one of the early volumes of the Gentleman's Magazine: "There being in a large house a variety of rooms of various sizes, the sizes and forms of the andirons may reasonably have been supposed to have been various too. In the kitchen, where large fires are made, and large pieces of wood are laid on, the andirons, in consequence, are proportionately large and strong, and usually plain, or with very little ornament. In the great hall, where the tenants and neighbours made entertainment, and at Christmas cheerfully regaled with good plum-porridge, mince-pies, and stout October, the andirons were commonly larger and stronger, able to sustain the weight of the roaring Christmas fire; but these were more ornamented, and, like knights with their esquires, attended by a pair of younger brothers far superior to, and therefore, not to be degraded by, the humble style of creepers; indeed, they were often seen to carry their heads at least half as high as their proud elders. A pair of such I have in my hall: they are of cast-iron, at least two and a half feet high, with round faces, and much ornamented at the bottom."

At Cotehole House, in Cornwall, may be seen a pair of richly ornamented brass dogs, upwards of four feet high; and a few years since we remember to have seen, in Windsor Castle, a pair of andirons faced with richly wrought silver. Yet these articles are eclipsed by some costly items in a list of wedding presents in the reign of James I. wherein is described "an invention," namely, "fire-shovel, tongs, and irons, creepers, and all furniture of a chimney, of silver, and a cradle of silver to burn sea-coal." This expensiveness of material, in all probability, was not matched by the manufacture, a disproportion which reminds us of the silver furniture in some districts of South America, where the earth yields tons of that metal. Thus the proprietor of a productive silver mine in Peru is known to have ejected from his house all articles of glass or crockery ware, and replaced them by others made of silver. Here, likewise, might be seen pier-tables, picture-frames, mirrors, pots and pans, and even a watering-trough for mules—all of solid silver!

To return to the invention of grates. As the consumption of coal increased, the transition from andirons to fire-grates composed of connected bars, was obvious and easy. The andirons formed the end-standards, which supported the grate itself, a sort of raised cradle. Besides these supports, the back-plate, cast from a model of carved-work (often with the arms of the family), was added; and generally under the lowest bar was a filigree ornament of bright metal, which, under the designation of a fret, still retains its place in modern stoves. Movable fireplaces of the above description may be met with about two hundred years old; for at this period, as the quotation of the time of James I. proves, implements for the fireplace were in use. A magnificent fireplace of the above description has been manufactured for St. George's Hall, in Windsor Castle, so as to harmonize with the architectural character of that noble apartment.

Convenience soon suggested the fixing of fireplaces, which led to their being made with side-piers, or hobs, so as to fill the whole space within the chimney-jambs; till the snug cosy chimney-corner is only to be met with in farm-houses, where dogs are used to this day.

It would be tedious to follow the improvements in fireplaces from the first introduction of stoves, about the year 1780, to the present time: from straight unornamental bars and sides, to elegant curves, pedestal hobs, and fronts embellished with designs of great classic beauty. Indeed, in no branch of manufacture are the advantages of our enlarged acquaintance with the fine arts more evident than in the taste of ornaments displayed in the stove-grates of the present day. The tasteful display at the Great Exhibition of 1851 will doubtless be remembered by the reader. "Grates," says the Supplementary Report of the Juries on Design, "rank among the principal works in hardware to which ornamental design is applied, at least on the English side; and there by far the best specimens, both as to design and workmanship, are to be found: this was to be expected from the general necessity for warmth in our cold and variable climate; an Englishman's love for his fireside having passed into a proverb."

By fire-irons are understood a shovel, a poker, and pair of tongs. These implements were not all found on the ancient hearth; nor were they necessary when wood alone was burnt. In the time of Henry VIII. the only accompaniment of the andirons was the fire-fork with two prongs, a specimen of which is preserved in Windsor Castle; still, in the apartments for the upper classes, the irons for trimming the fire were more complete. The use of coal and of close fireplaces led to the adoption of the poker; and about the same period were introduced fenders, the first of which were bent pieces of sheet-iron placed before the fire, to prevent the brands or cinders from rolling off the hearth-stone upon the wooden floors; but fenders have been improved with stoves, till the display of our fireplace is the chief ornamental feature of our rooms.

With these changes, however, the chimney-corner has disappeared, and is but remembered in poetry, or the pages of romance.

A great deal has been written of late years in disparagement of the open coal fire and the chimney, in comparison with the stove and flue; but Professor Faraday has shown the chimney to possess very important functions in sanitary economy. Thus, a parlour fire will consume in twelve hours forty pounds of coal, the combustion rendering 42,000 gallons of air unfit to support life. Not only is that large amount of deleterious product carried away, and rendered innoxious by the chimney, but five times that quantity of air is also carried up by the draught, and ventilation is thus effectually maintained.

Since the ascent of smoke up a chimney depends on the comparative lightness of the column of air within to that of an equal column without, the longer the chimney the stronger will be the draught, if the fire be sufficiently great to heat the air; but if the chimney be so long that the air is cooled as it approaches the top, the draught is diminished.

It must not be supposed that the modes we have described were the only means of heating houses with which our ancestors were familiar. The Romans in England evidently employed flue-tiles for the artificial heating of houses or baths. In 1849, a course of flue-tiles was found upon a farm near Reigate, in Surrey; they were shown to have been taken from some Roman site in the neighbourhood, and had been used on the farm to form a drain; the apertures for heated air being covered by pieces of Roman wall-tile, or stone, to prevent the soil falling into the flues. One of these flue-tiles is ornamented with patterns, not scored, but impressed by the repetition of stamps, to produce an elaborate design. Several varieties of flue-tiles have been found: one from a Roman bath in Thames Street; and a remarkable double flue-tile, found in the City of London, and preserved in Mr. Roach Smith's collection in the British Museum. These tiles were arranged one upon the other, and carried up the inner sides of the walls of the rooms, to which artificial heat was to be given from the hypocaust, or subterranean stove, by which means it was easy to regulate the temperature. Pliny describes a bedchamber in his villa warmed by the hypocaust and the tiles, with narrow openings. Sometimes the floor and sides were entirely coated with these tiles.

The Curfew, or Couvre-feu, should be mentioned as an appurtenance to the fireplaces in the Anglo-Norman times. The couvre-feu formerly in the collection of the Rev. Mr. Gostling, and so often engraved, passed into the possession of Horace Walpole, and was sold at Strawberry Hill, in 1842, to Mr. William Knight. It is of copper, riveted together, and in general form resembles the "Dutch-oven" of the present day. In the same lot was a warming-pan of the time of Charles II. In February 1842, Mr. Syer Cuming purchased of a curiosity-dealer in Chancery-lane a couvre-feu closely resembling Mr. Gostling's; and Mr. Cuming considers both specimens to be of the same age—of the close of the fifteenth or early part of the sixteenth century; whereas Mr. Gostling's specimen was stated to be of the Norman period. A third example of the couvre-feu exists in the Canterbury Museum; and early in 1866, a couvre-feu—reputed date, 1068—was sold by Messrs. Foster, in Pall Mall.

The Couvre-feu is stated to have been used for extinguishing a fire, by raking the wood and embers to the back of the hearth, and then placing the open part of the couvre-feu close against the back of the chimney. The notion that all fires should be covered up at a certain hour, was a badge of servitude imposed by William the Conqueror, is a popular error; since there is evidence of the same custom prevailing in France, Spain, Italy, Scotland, and many other countries of Europe, at this period: it was intended as a precaution against fires, which were very frequent and destructive, when so many houses were built of wood. Besides, the curfew was used in England in the time of Alfred, who ordained that all the inhabitants of Oxford should, at the ringing of the curfew-bell at Carfax, cover up their fires and go to bed. It is, therefore, concluded that the Conqueror revived or continued the custom which he had previously established in Normandy: in fact, it was, in both countries, a beneficial law of police.[44]


[PRIVATE LIFE OF A QUEEN OF ENGLAND.]

ne of the most interesting records of the domestic life of our ancestors that we remember to have read, is a series of "Notices of the Last Days of Isabella, Queen of Edward II. drawn from an Account of the Expenses of her Household," and communicated to the Society of Antiquaries, by Mr. E. A. Bond, of the British Museum. Nothing can exceed the minuteness of this memorial of the domestic manners of the middle of the fourteenth century—the private life of five hundred years since. No court circular ever chronicled the movements of royalty more circumstantially than does this household account; nor can any roll among our records detail more closely the personal expenses of the sovereign than do the notices before us.

It will be recollected by the attentive reader of our history, that, after the deposition and murder of King Edward II., we hear little of the history of the chief mover of these fearful events.[45] The ambitious Mortimer expiates his crimes on the scaffold. Isabella, the instigator of sedition against her king, the betrayer of her husband, survives her accomplice; but, from the moment that her career of guilt is arrested, she is no more spoken of. Having mentioned the execution of Mortimer, Froissart tells us that the King soon after, by the advice of his council, ordered his mother to be confined in a goodly castle, and gave her plenty of ladies to wait and attend on her, as well as knights and esquires of honour. He made her a handsome allowance to keep and maintain the state she had been used to; but forbade that she should ever go out, or drive herself abroad, except at certain times, when any shows were exhibited in the court of the castle. The Queen thus passed her time there meekly, and the King, her son, visited her twice or thrice a year. Castle Rising was the place of her confinement. This castle, which in part gives name to the town, is believed to have been originally built by Alfred the Great: at any rate, William de Albini, to whose ancestors the Conqueror gave several lordships in the county, built a castle here before 1176; and this edifice appears to inclose a fragment of a more ancient building. There are, to this day, considerable remains: the keep is still standing, though much dilapidated; the walls are three yards thick; and the division and arrangement of the apartments are very obvious. It stands in a ballium or court, surrounded by a moat and an embankment. The general style of the building is Norman, and bears a resemblance to that of Norwich Castle. Here the Queen took up her abode in 1330; after the first two years the strictness of her seclusion was relaxed. She died at Hertford, August 22, 1358, and was buried in the church of the Grey Friars, within Newgate, now the site of Christ's Hospital.

The Account of the Queen's Expenses is one of the Cottonian MSS. in the British Museum, and embraces, in distinct divisions, the Queen's general daily expenses; sums given in alms; miscellaneous necessary expenses; disbursements for dress; purchases of plate and jewellery; gifts; payments to messengers; and imprests for various services. In the margin of the general daily expenses are entered the names of the visitors during the day, together with the movements of the household from place to place. From these notices, in addition to the light they throw upon the domestic life of the period, we gain some insight into the degree of personal freedom enjoyed by the Queen and her connexions; the consideration she obtained at the Court of the great King Edward III. her son; and even into her personal disposition and occupations. These particulars relate to her last days.

It appears that at the beginning of October 1357, the Queen was residing at her castle of Hertford, having not very long before been at Rising. The first visitor mentioned, and who sups with her, was Joan, her niece, who visited the Queen constantly, and nursed her in her last illness. Hertford Castle was built by Edward the Elder, about 905 or 909. In the civil war of the reign of John, this fortress was taken, after a brave defence, by the Dauphin Louis, and the revolted barons: it subsequently came to the crown, and was granted in succession to John of Gaunt, and to the Queens of Henry IV., Henry V., and Henry VI. Jean II. King of France, and David, King of Scotland, spent part of their captivity here during the reign of Edward III. Queen Elizabeth occasionally resided and held her court in the castle.

About the middle of October, Queen Isabella set out from Hertford on a pilgrimage to Canterbury. She rested at Tottenham, London, Eltham, Dartford, and Rochester; in going or returning visited Leeds Castle, and was again at Hertford in the beginning of November. She gave alms to the nuns—Minoresses without Aldgate; to the rector of St. Edmund's in London, in whose parish her hostel was situated—it was in Lombard Street; and to the prisoners in Newgate. On the 26th of October, she entertained the King and Prince of Wales, in her own house in Lombard Street; and we have recorded a gift of thirteen shillings and fourpence to four minstrels who played in their presence.

On the 16th of November, after her return to Hertford Castle, she was visited by the renowned Gascon warrior, the Captal de Buche, cousin of the Comte de Foix. He had recently come over to England with the Prince of Wales, having taken part, on the English side, in the great battle of Poitiers: and subsequent entries record the visits of several noble captives taken in that battle.

On the following day is recorded a visit, at dinner, of the "Comes de la March," considered to be Roger Mortimer, Earl of March, the grandson of her favourite. He was high in Edward the Third's confidence, and appears to have been in England at the present time: under the head of donations is notice of a sum paid to four minstrels of the Earl of March. His visit was, as we find, subsequently twice repeated, and then in company with the King (by whom, as Froissart tells us, "he was much loved") and the Prince of Wales. "And thus," says Mr. Bond, "we have an indication that time has scarcely weakened Isabella's fidelity to a criminal attachment; and that, although the actual object of it had been torn from her, she still cherished his memory, and sought her friends among those most nearly allied to him."

On the 28th of November, and two following days, the Queen entertained the Earl of Tancarville, one of the captives at Poitiers; and with him the Earl of Salisbury, who was connected with the Mortimers, being brother-in-law to the existing Earl of March, although his father had personally acted a principal part in arresting Isabella's paramour in Nottingham Castle. On the 15th of December, the Queen was visited by the Countess of Pembroke, one of Isabella's closest friends. And, again, what can we infer but a clinging on her part to the memory of Mortimer, when we find that this lady was his daughter? and thus visits were received by Isabella from a daughter, the grandson, and grandson's brother-in-law, of her favourite, within the space of one month.

On the 10th of February, messengers arrive from the King of Navarre, to announce, as it appears elsewhere, his escape from captivity; an indication that Isabella was still busy in the stirring events in her native country. On the 20th of March, the King comes to supper. On each day of the first half of the month of May, during the Queen's stay in London, the entries show her guests at dinner, and her visitors after dinner and at supper, as formally as a court circular of our own time.

Of the several entries we can only select a few of the more interesting. Here we may remark that on three occasions in March, the guests came to supper with the Queen: these are Lionel, Earl of Ulster; the King; and the Earl of Richmond. The supper of that period was given, probably, at five o'clock, three hours earlier than the royal dinner of our time.[46]

In April, we find reference to the Queen's journey to Windsor; upon which Mr. Bond remarks: "There is no room for doubt, therefore (though the chroniclers make no mention of the circumstance), that the object of Isabella's journey was to be present at the festivities held at Windsor by Edward III. in celebration of St. George's Day, the 23d of April—festivities set forth with unwonted magnificence, in honour of the many crowned heads and noble foreigners then in England, and to which strangers from all countries were offered safe letters of conduct." From an entry in May, we find a donation of the considerable sum of six pounds thirteen shillings (equal in value to about ninety pounds of the present currency) to a messenger from Windsor, certifying her of the conclusion of terms of a peace between Edward III. and his captive, John of France; and the same sum is given by Isabella, the same day, to a courier bearing a letter from Queen Philippa, conveying the same intelligence.

On May 14, Isabella left London, and rested at Tottenham, on her way to Hertford; and a payment is recorded of a gift of six shillings and eightpence to the nuns of Cheshunt, who met the Queen at the cross in the high road, in front of their house.

On the 4th of June, Isabella set out on a pilgrimage to Canterbury, and a visit to Leeds Castle. At Canterbury, on the 10th and 11th, she entertained the Abbot of St. Augustine's; and under Alms are recorded the Queen's oblations at the tomb of St. Thomas: the crown of his head (the part having the tonsure, cut off by his assassins), and point of the sword (with which he had been slain); and her payment to minstrels playing "in volta;" as also her oblations in the church of St. Augustine, and her donations to various hospitals and religious houses in Canterbury.

Respecting Isabella's death, she is stated by chroniclers to have sunk, in the course of a single day, under the effect of a too powerful medicine, administered at her own desire. From several entries, however, in this account, she appears to have been in a state requiring medical treatment for some time previous to her decease. She expired on August 22; but as early as February 15, a payment had been made to a messenger going on three several occasions to London for divers medicines for the Queen, and for the hire of a horse for Master Lawrence, the physician; and again, for another journey by night to London. On the same day a second payment was made to the same messenger for two other journeys by night to London, and two to St. Albans, to procure medicines for the Queen. On the 1st of August, payment was made to Nicholas Thomasyer, apothecary, of London, for divers spices and ointment supplied for the Queen's use. Among the other entries is a payment to Master Lawrence of forty shillings, for attendance on the Queen and the Queen of Scotland, at Hertford, for an entire month.

It is evident that the body of the Queen remained in the chapel of the castle until November 23, as a payment is made to fourteen poor persons for watching the Queen's corpse there, day and night, from Saturday, the 25th of August, to the above date, each of them receiving twopence daily, besides his food. While the body lay at Hertford, a solemn mass was performed in the chapel, when the daily expenditure rose from the average of six pounds to fifteen and twenty-five pounds. The Queen's funeral took place on the 27th: she was interred in the choir of the church of the Grey Friars, the Archbishop of Canterbury officiating, and the King himself being present at the ceremony. Just twenty-eight years before, on nearly the same day, the body of her paramour Mortimer was consigned to its grave in the same building.

We now reach the Alms, which amount to the considerable sum of 298l., equivalent to about 3,000l. of present money. They consist of chapel offerings; donations to religious houses; to clergymen preaching in the Queen's presence; to special applicants for charity; and to paupers. The most interesting entry, perhaps, is that of a donation of forty shillings to the abbess and minoresses without Aldgate, in London, to purchase for themselves two pittances on the anniversaries of Edward, late King of England, and Sir John, of Eltham (the Queen's son), given on the 20th of November. And this is the sole instance of any mention in the Account of the unhappy Edward II.

Among these items is a payment to the nuns of Cheshunt for meeting the Queen in the high road in front of their house: and this is repeated on every occasion of the Queen's passing the priory in going to or from Hertford. There is more than one entry of alms given to poor scholars of Oxford, who had come to ask it of the Queen. A distribution is made amongst a hundred or fifty poor persons on the principal festivals of the year, amongst which that of Queen Katharine is included. Doles also are made among paupers daily and weekly throughout the year, amounting in one year and a month to 102l. On the 12th of September, after the Queen's death, a payment of twenty shillings is made to William Ladde, of Shene (Richmond), on account of the burning of his house by an accident, while the Queen was staying at Shene.

Under the head of "Necessaries," we find a payment of fifty shillings to carpenters, plasterers, and tilers, for works in the Queen's chamber, for making a staircase from the chamber to the chapel, &c. Afterwards we find half-yearly payments of twenty-five shillings and twopence to the Prioress of St. Helen's, in London, as rent for the Queen's house in Lombard Street; a purchase of two small "catastæ," or cages, for birds, in the Queen's chamber; and of hemp-seed for the same birds. From an entry under Gifts, it appears that two small birds were given to Isabella by the King, on the 26th of November. Next are payments for binding the black carpet in the Queen's chamber; for repairs of the castle; lining the Queen's chariot with coloured cloth; repairs of the Queen's bath, and gathering of herbs for it. Also, payments to William Taterford, for six skins of vellum, for writing the Queen's books, and for writing a book of divers matters for the Queen, fourteen shillings, including cost of parchment; to Richard Painter, for azure for illuminating the Queen's books; the repayment of sum of 200l. borrowed of Richard Earl of Arundel; the purchase of an embroidered saddle, with gold fittings, and a black palfrey, given to the Queen of Scotland; a payment to Louis de Posan, merchant, of the Society of Mallebaill, in London, for two mules bought by him at Avignon for the Queen, 28l. 13s.: the mules arrived after the Queen's death, and they were given over to the King.

The division of the account relating to her jewels is chiefly interesting as affording an insight into the personal character of Isabella, and showing that the serious events of her life and her increasing years had not overcome her natural passion for personal display. The total amount expended on jewels was no less than 1,399l., equivalent to about 16,000l. of our present currency; and, says Mr. Bond, "after ample allowance for the acknowledged general habit of indulgence in personal ornaments belonging to the period, we cannot but consider Isabella's outlay on her trinkets as exorbitant, and as betraying a more than common weakness for those vain luxuries." The more costly of them were purchased of Italian merchants. Her principal English jewellers appear to have been John de Louthe and William de Berking, goldsmiths, of London. In a general entry of 421l. paid for divers articles of jewellery to Pardo Pardi, and Bernardo Donati, Italian merchants, are items of a chaplet of gold, set with "bulays" (rubies), sapphires, emeralds, diamonds, and pearls, price 105l.; divers pearls, 87l.; a crown of gold, set with sapphires, rubies of Alexandria, and pearls, price 80l. The payment was not made till the 8th of August; but there can be little doubt that these royal ornaments were ordered for the occasion of Isabella's visit to Windsor, at the celebration of St. George's Day. Among other entries, is a payment of 32l. for several articles: namely, for a girdle of silk, studded with silver, 20s.; three hundred doublets (rubies), at twentypence the hundred; 1,800 pearls, at twopence each; and a circlet of gold, of the price of 16l. bought for the marriage of Katharine Brouart; and another of a pair of tablets of gold, enamelled with divers histories, of the price of 9l.

The division of Dona, besides entries of simple presents and gratuities, contains notes of gifts to messengers, from acquaintances; and others, giving us further insight into the connexions maintained by the Queen. Notices of messengers bringing letters from the Countesses of Warren and Pembroke, are very frequent. Under the head of Prestita, moreover, is an entry of a sum of 230l. given to Sir Thomas de la March, in money, paid to him by the hands of Henry Pikard, citizen of London (doubtless the magnificent Lord Mayor of that name, who so royally entertained King John of France, the King of Cyprus, and the Prince of Wales, at this period), as a loan from Queen Isabella, on the obligatory letter of the same Sir Thomas: he is known as the victor in a duel, fought at Windsor, in presence of Edward III., with Sir John Viscomte, in 1350. To the origin of Isabella's interest in him we find no clue. Several payments to couriers refer to the liberation of Charles, King of Navarre, and are important, as proving that the Queen was not indifferent to the events passing in her native country, but that she was connected with one who was playing a conspicuous part in its internal history—Charles of Navarre, perhaps the most unprincipled sovereign of his age, and known in his country's annals under the designation of "the Wicked."

Among the remaining notices of messengers and letters, we have mention of the King's butler coming to the Queen at Hertford, with letters of the King, and a present of three pipes of wine; a messenger from the King, with three casks of Gascon wine; another messenger from the King, with a present of small birds; John of Paris, coming from the King of France to the Queen at Hertford, and returning with two volumes of Lancelot and the Sang Réal, sent to the same King by Isabella; a messenger bringing a boar's head and breast from the Duke of Lancaster, Henry Plantagenet; William Orloger, Monk of St. Albans, bringing to the Queen several quadrants of copper; a messenger bringing a present of a falcon from the King; a present of a wild boar from the King, and of a cask of Gascon wine; a messenger, bringing a present of twenty-four bream from the Countess of Clare; and payments to messengers bringing new year's gifts from the King, Queen Philippa, the Countess of Pembroke, and Lady Wake.

Frequent payments to minstrels playing in the Queen's presence occur, sufficient to show that Isabella greatly delighted in this entertainment; and these are generally minstrels of the King, the Prince, or of noblemen, such as the Earl of March, the Earl of Salisbury, and others. And we find a curious entry of a payment of thirteen shillings and fourpence to Walter Hert, one of the Queen's "vigiles" (viol-players), going to London, and staying there, in order to learn minstrelsy at Lent time; and again, of a further sum to the same on his return from London, "de scola menstralcie."

Of special presents by the Queen, we have mention of new year's gifts to the ladies of her chamber, eight in number, of one hundred shillings to each, and twenty shillings each to thirty-three clerks and squires; a girdle to Edward de Ketilbergh, the Queen's ward; a donation of forty shillings to Master Lawrence, the surgeon, for attendance on the Queen; a present of fur to the Countess of Warren; a small gift to Isabella Spicer, her god-daughter; and a present of sixty-six pounds to Isabella de St. Pol, lady of the Queen's bedchamber, on occasion of her marriage with Edward Brouart. Large rewards, amounting together to 540l. were given after Isabella's death, by the King's order, to her several servants, for their good service to the Queen in her lifetime.

The division of Messengers contains payments for the carriage of letters to the Queen's officers and acquaintances. Among them we find mention of a letter to the Prior of Westminster, "for a certain falcon of the Count of Tancarville lost, and found by the said Prior."

We have only to add that the period of the account is from the 1st of October to the 5th of December in the following year, the same being continued beyond the date of the Queen's death. The totals of the several divisions of the account are:—

£s.d.
The Household Expenses amount to4,014211½
Alms29818
Necessaries1,395611
Great wardrobe54210
Jewels1,39904
Gifts1,2485
Messengers141210
Imprests3134

Making a general total of more than 9,000l.

Note.—Murder of Edward II.—In 1837, the Rev. Joseph Hunter communicated to the Society of Antiquaries some new circumstances connected with the apprehension and death of Sir Thomas de Gournay, charged as one of the murderers of King Edward II. Before the measures taken for Gournay's apprehension, he had escaped to the Continent, where, it was alleged, by one old chronicler, that he was taken at Marseilles; by another, at Burgos, in Spain; that his journey to England, in custody, was commenced, and that, by the orders of some influential persons in England, he was beheaded on board ship, on the voyage, lest he might implicate others, if brought to trial in England. Mr. Hunter has, however, found in Rymer's Fœdera, minute record that Gournay was taken at Burgos, and that Edward III. dispatched a commissioner to demand him from the Spanish authorities, who, for several months, put off giving up the prisoner; and when the order for his delivery was obtained, Gournay had found means to escape from Burgos. The commissioner endeavoured to discover the fugitive's retreat, but after an absence of more than twelve months, he returned to England without success. Subsequently, Gournay was made prisoner at Naples, on some local charge; on hearing which Edward III. dispatched another messenger, with a letter to the King of Sicily, demanding the custody of the prisoner for trial in England. This demand was complied with; and Gournay set off, in custody, on his journey hither. He is then traced to several places on the route, until his arrival at Bayonne, where he fell ill, died, and was buried. Notwithstanding the long existence of the Fœdera, this historical blunder of his having been beheaded was not rectified until the above date by Mr. Hunter.


[THE ENGLISH HOUSEWIFE.]

early two centuries and a half ago, Gervase Markham wrote a very useful and entertaining tract, entitled "The English Housewife, containing the inward and outward virtues which ought to be in a compleate woman. As her skill in physick, surgery, cookery, extraction of oyles, banquetting stuffe, ordering of great feasts, preserving of all sorts of wines, conceited secrets, distillations, perfumes, ordering of wooll, hempe, flax, making cloth, and dyeing; the knowledge of dayries, office of malting of oates, their excellent uses in a family, of brewing, baking, and all other things belonging to a household."

By aid of a contemporary[47] we are enabled to present a curious portrait of the Housewife from this authentic source. It should first be mentioned that the profusion of provisions in the banquets of the time bordered upon the barbarous magnificence, compared to the elegant modes of preparing dishes in the present day, and called for dining-halls and kitchens of sufficient dimensions to avoid the terrible confusion that must otherwise have occurred. Hence, the superintendence of the household was a labour of great extent and responsibility. It was held that a woman had no right to enter the state of matrimony unless possessed of a good knowledge of Cookery: otherwise she could perform but half her vow: she might love and obey, but she could not cherish. To be perfect in this art she must know in which quarter of the moon to plant and gather all kinds of salads and herbs throughout the year; she must also be cleanly, have "a quick eye, a curious nose, a perfect taste, and a ready eare;" and be neither butter-fingered, sweet-toothed, nor faint-hearted: for if she were the first of these, she would let everything fall; if the second, she would consume that which she should increase; and if the third, she would lose time with too much niceness. For an ordinary feast with which any good man might entertain his friends, about sixteen dishes were considered a suitable supply for the first course. This included such substantial articles as a shield of brawn with mustard, a boiled capon, a piece of boiled beef, a chine of beef roasted, a neat's tongue roasted, a pig roasted, baked chewets (minced chickens made into balls), a roasted goose, a roasted swan, a turkey, a haunch of venison, a venison pasty, a kid with a pudding in it, an olive-pie, a couple of capons, and custards. Besides these principal dishes, the housewife added as many salads, fricassees, quelquechoses, and devised pastes as made thirty-two dishes, which were considered as many as it was polite to put upon the table for the first course. Then followed second and third courses, in which many of the dishes were for show only, but were so tastefully made as to contribute much to the beauty of the feast.

The banquets given by princes or nobles were much more important affairs. They were served in this manner:—First the grand sallet was to be marshalled in by gentlemen and yeomen-waiters, then green sallets, boiled sallets, and compound sallets; these were followed by all the fricassees, such as collops, rashers, &c.; then by boiled meats and fowls; then by the roasted beef, mutton, goose, swans, veal, pig, and capon; next were ushered in the hot baked meats, such as fallow-deer in pasty, chicken or calves'-foot pie, and dowset; then the cold baked pheasants, partridges, turkey, goose, and woodcocks; lastly, carbonadoes both simple and compound. These were all arranged upon the table in such a manner that before each trencher stood a salad, a fricassee, a boiled meat, a roasted meat, a baked meat, and a carbonado,—a profusion that must have been almost overwhelming. The second course comprised the lesser wild and land fowl, which were again followed up with the larger kinds, as herons, shovellers, cranes, bustards, peacocks, &c.; and these by cold baked red-deer, hare-pie, gammon of bacon pie, wild boar, roe-pie; and scattered among these were the "conceited secrets" in the way of confectionery and sweet pastry, which were the pride of the good housewife's heart; besides whatever fish was available, which was to be distributed according to the manner in which it was dressed, with the respective courses, the fried with the fricassees, the broiled with the carbonadoes, the dry with the roast meats, and those stewed in broths with the boiled meats. The carbonadoes consisted of any meat scotched on both sides and sprinkled with seasonings in various combinations, and then either broiled over the fire or before it. Roasted geese were stuffed with gooseberries—hence the term; and, if we were to enter into the given details of the various modes of dressing these numerous dishes, we could mention many as long disused. Some of the terms employed are as startling to modern ears as the ingredients: to take one instance, pie-dishes were called coffins.

We are not to conclude that the above profusion was an every-day fact. There are hints here and there that this was by no means the case. Oatmeal is called the crown of the housewife's garland, as being the largest item of consumption in the household; and whigge (whey) is praised as an excellent cool drink, and as wholesome as any other with which to slake a labouring man's thirst the whole summer long. On the other hand, we know this whigge was looked upon in a somewhat similarly scornful light as that in which we regard small beer, because it was adopted to distinguish the political body opposed to the Tories. And the constant supervision of the mistress of the house over every undertaking would also be a surety against the practice of extravagance. Although there were good men-maltsters in the land, there was no beer to compare with that made by the mistress and her maids. These made both beer and ale; cider from apples; perry from pears; mead and metheglin from honey and herbs. The wines, too, were in her care. It is curious to note the kind of care they experienced at her hands. Every fatt (vat) of foreign wine was dosed with several gallons of milk and eggs beaten up, and each was flavoured with some gallons of another, in a mode that must have much bewildered the palates of King Charles's lieges. If claret lost its colour, she stewed some damsons or black bullaces, and poured their syrup into the hogshead, when all came right again. If sack ran muddy, she took some rice, flour, and camphor, and popped that mixture into the butt; if any wine became hard, she knew how to make it mellow with honey and eggs: the same with muskadine and malmsey.

The indefatigable mistress of the house was as omnipresent in the bakehouse as elsewhere, and saw to the making up the various kinds of bread, both for the family and the hinds or servants. There were several kinds in use; wheat bread, rye bread, rye and wheat mixed, and barley and wheat mixed: into the servants' barley-bread she adroitly mixed two pecks of peas and a peck of malt. She also looked in at the dairy, saw that it was kept as clean as a prince's chamber, and gave an eye to the profits. She could send several cheeses to table,—new milk cheese, nettle-cheese, floaten milk cheese and eddish or after-math cheese.

By way of relaxation to these serious duties, which, with the necessary supervision of the dressing and spinning of wool, hemp, and flax, must have kept the good dame pretty fully employed, she prescribed for any of her household that were indisposed, compounded her own remedies, and made stores of scented bags to lay among her hoarded-up linen, scented waters for different ornamental purposes, perfumes to burn, washing-balls, perfumed gloves, rosemary-water to preserve the complexion (called the bath of life), violet-water, herb-water for weak eyes, and other distillations. Plasters, ointments, lotions of all kinds, were among her cunning secrets. These occupations serve to show why the offices were so spacious and my lady's closet so small. Markharn gives scores of quaint recipes no housewife could ignore who was at all sensitive as to her reputation for skill. In these we are reminded of the absence of really scientific knowledge in the peculiar value set upon valueless distinctions. The milk of a red cow, for instance, was deemed more efficacious than that of any other colour for medicinal purposes; butter made in May without any salt in it was esteemed a sovereign cure for wounds, strains, or aches, although that made in any other month possessed no such virtue; and again, it was of no use to apply certain remedies unless the moon was on the wane. This portion of the volume is dedicated to the Right Honourable and most Excellent Lady, Frances, Countess Dowager of Exeter.

Before we leave this Dinner-table of other days, we should add to the Housewife's duties the Art of Carving, which, until our time, was performed by the mistress of the house. We gather from Lord Wharncliffe's edition of the Correspondence of Lady Mary Worthy Montague, that, in the last century, this task must have required no small share of bodily strength, "for the lady was not only to invite—that is, urge and tease—her company to eat more than human throats could conveniently swallow, but to carve every dish, when chosen, with her own hands. The greater the lady, the more indispensable the duty,—each joint was carried up in its turn, to be operated upon by her, and her alone; since the peers and knights on either hand were so far from being bound to offer their assistance, that the very master of the house, posted opposite to her, might not act as her croupier; his department was to push the bottle after dinner. As for the crowd of guests, the most inconsiderable among them—the curate, or subaltern, or squire's younger brother—if suffered through her neglect to help himself to a slice of the mutton placed before him, would have chewed it in bitterness, and gone home an affronted man, half inclined to give a wrong vote at the next election. There were then professed carving masters, who taught young ladies the art scientifically; from one of whom Lady Mary Wortley Montague said she took lessons three times a week, that she might be perfect on her father's days; when, in order to perform her functions without interruption, she was forced to eat her own dinner alone an hour or two beforehand."


[A HEREFORDSHIRE LADY IN THE TIME OF THE CIVIL WAR.]

bout two centuries ago, there lived in the good old city of Hereford, one Mrs. Joyce Jefferies, of whose singular establishment, during nine years, a minute record has been preserved. In a cathedral town, olden features of English life may be traced more considerably than in other towns of less antiquity and extent. Hereford is thought to be derived from the British Hêre-fford, signifying the "old road." It has its Mayor's Court, view of Frankpledge, and court of Pie Pondre; though it has lost its monastic edifices; and, two centuries ago, its castle, built by Harold, was in ruins, which, as materials, were worth no more than 85l. One of the gateways of the town walls has been fitted up as a prison. There are several hospitals or alms-houses. Its Saxon cathedral occupies the site of a former church of wood; it is dedicated to St. Ethelbert, whose name was given to its nine days' fair; two of its fairs are "for diversions." In short, amidst broad streets, and red brick houses, and other modern aspects, are many interesting traces of old times and habits, furnished with its two crosses and a stone pulpit. Its river, the Wye, teems with salmon[48] and grayling; the whole county appears like one orchard; cider and perry are made everywhere; and there is a good deposit of tobacco pipe clay. In one of its towns, on Shrove Tuesday, a bell rings at noon as a signal for the people to begin frying their pancakes; and among its festal records is that of a Morrice dance, performed by ten persons—a "nest of Nestors"—whose united ages recorded one thousand years.

In this old city, then, lived Mrs. Jefferies, upon an income averaging 500l. a year, in a house in Widemarch Street—the street in which Garrick, the actor, was born—which she built at a cost of 800l. but which was ordered to be pulled down in the time of the Rebellion, under Charles I., and the materials sold for 50l. This was a calamitous loss. Besides, the old lady lived beyond her means, not by self-indulgence in costly luxuries, but in indiscriminate gifts; and three-fourths of the entries in her accounts consist of sums bestowed in presents, of loans never repaid, or laid out in articles to give away. She continued in the city till the year 1642, when, driven by stress of war, she abandoned it, and sought refuge in the dwellings of others. Ultimately, in 1644, she gave up housekeeping to the day of her death.

The household establishment of Mrs. Jefferies is by no means, for a single person, on a contracted scale. Many female servants are mentioned; two having wages from 3l. to 3l. 4s. per annum, with gowns of dark stuff at Midsummer. Her coachman, receiving 40s. per annum, had at Whitsuntide, 1639, a new cloth suit and cloak; and, when he was dressed in his best, exhibited fine blue silk ribbon at the knees of his hose. The liveries of this and another man-servant were, in 1641, of fine Spanish cloth, made up in her own house, and cost upwards of nine pounds. Her man of business, or steward, had a salary of 5l. 16s. A horse was kept for him, and he rode about to collect her rents and dues, and to see to her agricultural concerns. She appeared abroad in a coach drawn by two mares; a nag or two were in her stable; one that a widow lady in Hereford purchased of her, she particularly designated as "a rare ambler."

Mrs. Jefferies had a host of country cousins; for, in those days, family connexions were formed in more contracted circles than at present, and the younger people intermarried nearer home; and she was evidently an object of great interest and competition among such as sought for sponsors to their children. She seems to have delighted in the office of gossip, or God-sib, that is, sib, as related, by means of religion. The number of her god-children became a serious tax upon her purse. A considerable list of her christening gifts includes, in 1638, a silver tankard to give her god-daughter, little Joyce Walsh, 5l. 5s. 6d.; "at Heriford faier, for blue silk ribbon and taffetary lace for skarfs," for a god-son and god-daughter, 8s.; and 1642, "paid Mr. Side, gouldsmith in Heriford, for a silver bowle to give Mrs. Lawrence daughter, which I found, too, called Joyse Lawrence, at 5s. 8d. an oz., 48s. 10d." But to Miss Eliza Acton she was more than maternally generous and was continually giving proofs of her fondness in all sorts of indulgence, supplying her lavishly with costly clothes and sums of money—money for gloves, for fairings, for cards against Christmas, and money repeatedly to put in her purse.

We have mentioned Mrs. Jefferies' loans. She had various sums placed out at interest, on bond and mortgage, varying from three hundred pounds and upwards, and one of eight hundred pounds. The securities were frequently shifting; and the number of persons who paid to her irregularly enough, in this way, in two years, was little short of one hundred. The borrowers of these moneys were knights, yeomen, gentry, farmers, and tradesmen; burgesses, and aldermen, and Mayors of Hereford, with many others. The collection of interest upon principal so detached and widely dispersed, must have been attended with difficulty. The principal itself must have incurred risk of diminution; but the convenience of the Three per Cents. was then unknown, and eight per cent. was the interest upon these loans. This practice of lending money in small sums must formerly have been more general than at the present day: there were then few modes of employing money so as to realize fair interest; it was often hoarded by "making a stocking," and various modes of concealment.

Some of Mrs. Jefferies's entries respecting those who do not repay loans are curious. Thus, M. Garnons, an occasional suitor for relief, she styles "an unthrifty gentleman;" amuses herself in setting down a small bad debt; and, after recording the name of the borrower, and the trifling sum lent, adds, in a note by way of anticipation, "which he will never pay." In another case, that of a legal transaction, in which a person had agreed to surrender certain premises to her use, and she had herself paid for drawing the instrument upon which he was to have acted, she observes, "but he never did, and I lost my money." In all matters she exhibits a gentle and generous mind. It was natural enough that she should describe the Parliamentary folks who pulled down her house as "fearful soldiers."

Here is a slight sketch of the personal appearance of Mrs. Jefferies in a specimen or two of her dress, among many that occur in her book of accounts. Her style of dress was such as became a gentlewoman of her condition. In 1638, in her palmy days, she wore a tawny camlet coat and kirtle, which, with all the requisite appendages, trimmings, and making, scrupulously set down, cost 10l. 17s. 5d. She had, at the same time, a black silk calimanco loose gown, petticoat, and bodice, and these, with the making, came to 18l. 1s. 8d. Next month, a Polonia coat and kirtle cost in all 5l. 1s. 4d. Tailors were then the dressmakers: she employed those in Hereford, Worcester, and London; and, strange to say, sometimes the dresses were so badly made in London that they had to be altered by a country tailor. She had, about the same period, a head-dress of black tiffany, wore ruff-stocks, and a beaver hat with a black silk band, and adopted worsted hose of different colours—blue, and sometimes grass-green. Among the articles of her toilet were false curls, and curling-irons; she had Cordovan (Spanish leather) gloves, sweet gloves, and gold embroidered gloves. She wore diamond and cornelian rings, used spectacles, and carried a whistle for a little dog, suspended at her girdle by a yard of black loop lace. A cipress (Cyprus?) cat, given to her by a Herefordshire friend, was, no doubt, a favourite; and she kept a throstle in a twiggen cage.

A young lady who resided with her was dressed at her expense in a manner more suited to her earlier time of life: for instance, she had a green silk gown, with a blue satin petticoat. At Easter, she went to a christening arrayed in a double cobweb lawn, and had a muff. Next, she was dressed in a woollen gown, "spun by the coock's wife, Whooper," liver-coloured, and made up splendidly with a stomacher laced with twisted silver cord. Another article of this young lady's wardrobe was a gown of musk-coloured cloth; and when she rode out she was decked in a scarlet safeguard coat and hood, laced with red, blue, and yellow lace; but none of her dresses were made by female hands.

Of the system of housekeeping we get a glimpse. In summer, she frequently had her own sheep killed; and at autumn a fat heifer, and at Christmas a beef or brawn were sometimes slaughtered, and chiefly spent in her house. She is very observant of the festivals and ordinances of the Church, while they continue unchanged; duly pays her tithes and offerings, and, after the old seignorial and even princely custom, contributes for her dependants as well as herself, in the offertory at the communion at Easter; has her pew in the church of All Saints at Hereford dressed, of course, with flowers at that season by the wife of the clerk; gives to the poor-box at the minster, and occasionally sends doles to the prisoners at Byster's Gate. Attached to ancient rules in town and country, she patronizes the fiddlers at sheep-shearing, gives to the wassail and the hinds at Twelfth Eve, when they light their twelve fires, and make the fields resound with toasting their master's health, as is done in many places to this day. Frequently in February, she is careful to take pecuniary notice of the first of the other sex, among those she knew, whom she met on Valentine's Day, and enters it with all the grave simplicity imaginable: "Gave Tom Aston, for being my valentine, 2s. Gave Mr. Dick Gravell, cam to be my valentine, 1s. I gave Timothy Pickering of Clifton, that was my valentine at Horncastle, 4d." Sends Mr. Mayor a present of 10s. on his "law day;" and on a certain occasion dines with him, when the waits, to whom she gives money, are in attendance at the feast; she contributes to these at New Year and Christmas tide, and to other musical performers at entertainments or fairs; seems fond of music, and strange sights, and "rarer monsters." "Gave to Sir John Giles, the fiddler, and to 2 others on 12th day;" "to a boy that did sing like a blackbird." She was liberal to Cherilickcome "and his Jack-an-apes," some vagrant that gained his living by exhibiting a monkey; and at Hereford Midsummer Fair, in 1640, "to a man that had the dawncing horse." To every one who gratified her by a visit, or brought her a present, she was liberal; as well as to her own servants and attendants at friends' houses. She provided medicine and advice for those who were sick and could not afford to call in medical aid; and she took compassion on those who were in the chamber of death and house of mourning, as may be seen in this entry: "1648, Oct. 29. For a pound of shugger to send Mrs. Eaton when her son Fitz Wm. lay on his death-bed, 20d."

Our Herefordshire Lady's Diary takes us through nine years of the time of the dispute between Charles I. and the Parliament: it, accordingly, possesses much historic interest. In 1638, she paid the unpopular impost of Ship-money, unsuccessfully opposed by Hampden, as well as another tax, called "the King's provision;" and she finds a soldier for her farm, and for her property in Hereford, when the Trained Bands are called out and exercised. Now, too, old ancestral armour, or Train-band equipments, that hung rusting in manor-houses, were taken down and repaired. And when Prynne, Burton, and Bastwick had been agitating, Laud impeached and imprisoned, and Lord Strafford tried and beheaded, she took a decided interest in passing events, and sent for some of the pamphlets and newspapers that swarmed from the press. Thus, we find paid for a book of Strafford's Trial, and his portrait, and Laud's, and some other portraits, 4s. 1d. And when the Parliament soldiers discharged their muskets, at or near her dwelling, we find this item: "Gave the sowldiers that shott off at my window, 1s. and beer." Then we find her, amidst great confusion, packing up her beds, furniture, and boxes, and taking flight in her carriage: but she was mercilessly plundered of "much goods, two bay coach mares, and some money, and much linen and clothes."

How her possessions were made away with at Hereford is a sad tale. Sir Henry Slingsby, a noted Royalist officer, mentions the havoc in terms of much regret. The orchards, gardens, trees, and houses were all destroyed. Before her house was pulled down, she sent her steward to save some part of the property, and make presents of the produce of her gardens, "gardin salitts," &c.

As years advance, symptoms of infirmity appear. The spectacles, and favourite "guilt spoone," and diamond ring, are missing, and found and brought by her attendants, who always have a reward. It has been related of Prince Eugene of Savoy, that his servants took dexterous advantage of his foible of immoderate anger, and threw themselves in the way of his fits of passion, that they might get a sound beating from him, and its never-failing accompaniment, a reward to make it up. Thus, probably, the attendants of Mrs. Jefferies, though in a different method, might make profit of her failing memory, by hiding and reproducing the above valuables, in order to a remuneration. Then, a fair is held at Worcester, and the maids from Horncastle of course attend it: our lady gives each a shilling, when Barbara, the dairy-maid, pretends that she had lost her shilling, and her mistress gave her another. But the maids were always in favour, and not content with making them presents at stated times, she invented vicarious means of slipping vails into their hands.

Age seems to have abated nothing of her generous feeling, or of the ardour of her domestic affections. In all those events which usually bring joy to families, and occasion entries in our parish registers, she heartily sympathised. A marriage, even of a servant, was an occurrence that always appeared highly to interest her. When Miss Acton was married, she gave her a handsome portion, arranged the settlement, and defrayed incidental expenses; and to the entries she adds, "God bless them both." The clerks in the solicitors' offices are not forgotten; and, "Paid the butcher for a fatt weather to present this bride wooman at her wedding-day, 6s. 6d." The portion was made up in instalments, and on the last payment, she notes: "So I praise God all the 800l. is paid, and we are even." Then, what joy was there at a christening, when "ould Mrs. Barckley and myself Joyse Jeffreys were Gossips. God bless hitt: Amen." Also, "Gave the midwyfe, good wyfe Hewes, of Vpper Jedston, the christening day, 10s.;" and, "Gave nurce Nott ye same day, 10s."

Thus did she continue to go on, with blessings upon her lips and her right hand full of gifts, without intermission, till the grave closed over all that was mortal, and amiable, and singular in the character and conduct of one whose parallel is not easy to be found.

As respects herself, little did she think that, in compiling these accounts, she was about to present, after a lapse of upwards of two centuries, a more expressive memorial of her virtues than any that her surviving relatives could have placed upon her tomb.

"And so it has fallen out, that nothing appears to have been hitherto done to mark the spot where she lies; neither has the exact period of her decease been ascertained, though the codicil of her will carries her forward to 1650, and it has been shown that she was buried in the chancel of the parish church of Clifton-upon-Teme, on the borders of Worcestershire. But her memory is still revered by those to whom her existence and character are known: and a brass tablet has been placed near the spot where she is believed to have been interred, with an inscription transmitting the name and virtues of Mrs. Joyce Jefferies to future times."[49]


[HOUSE-FURNISHING IN THE MIDDLE AGES.]

n accomplished illustrator of our Domestic History in describing the mode of furnishing houses in the Middle Ages, tells us that there were tables of Cyprus and other rare woods, carved cabinets, desks, chess-boards, and, above all, the Bed—the most important piece of furniture in the house, and of which Ralph Lord Basset said, "Whoever shall bear my surname and arms, according to my will, shall have my great bed for life." There was the "standing bed," and the "truckle bed;" on the former lay the lord, and on the latter his attendant. In the daytime the truckle bed, on castors, was rolled under the standing bed. The posts, head-boards, and canopies or spervers of bedsteads were sometimes carved, or painted in colours, but they are generally represented covered by rich hangings. King Edward III. bequeathed to his heir an entire bed marked with the arms of France and England, and Richard, Earl of Arundel, to his wife Philippa, a blue bed, marked with his arms, and the arms of his late wife; to his son Richard a standing bed called clove, also a bed of silk embroidered with the arms of Arundel and Warren; to his son Thomas, his blue bed of silk embroidered with griffins, &c.

The great chamber was often used as a sleeping-room by night and a reception-room by day. Shaw, in his Decorations of the Middle Ages, gives the interior of a chamber in which Isabella of Bavaria receives from Christine of Pisa her volume of poems. The Queen is seated on a couch covered with a stuff in red and gold, and there is a bed in the room furnished with the same material, to which are attached three shields of arms. The walls of the chamber were either hung with tapestry or painted with historical subjects. Chaucer, in his Dream, fancies himself in a chamber—

"Full well depainted,
And al the walles with colors fine
Were painted to the texte and glose,
And all the Romaunte of the Rose."

The beds of the better classes were sumptuous and comfortable. Mattresses were used, but sometimes, to receive the bed, loose straw was spread on the sacking. The order for making the royal savage's own lair says, "A yoman with a daggar is to searche the strawe of the kynges bedde that there be none untreuth therein—the bedde of downe to be cast upon that." The lower classes were contented with straw alone; but, as appears from Holinshed's account, more from an ignorant contempt for a pleasant bed, and a soft pillow, than from lack of means to obtain the indulgence. The windows had curtains, and were glazed in the manner described by Erasmus; but in inferior dwellings, such as those of copyholders and the like, the light-holes were filled with linen, or with a shutter.

Early in the fourteenth century one Thomas Blaket, or Blanket, of Bristol, introduced the woollen fabric which still goes by his name. The word worsted comes from the village so named, near Norwich, where that kind of stuff began to be extensively manufactured for wall-hangings in the fourteenth century. A still richer fabric similarly used, called baudekin, a kind of brocade, is said to have derived its name from Baldacus, in Babylon, whence, says Blount, it was originally brought.

Few objects of antiquarian curiosity acquired more notoriety than a bedstead or bed, of unusually large dimensions, preserved at Ware, twenty miles from London, on the road to Cambridge. Shakspeare employs it as an object of comparison in his play of Twelfth Night, bearing date 1614, where Sir Toby Belch says: "As many lies as will lie in this sheet of paper, though the sheet were big enough for the bed of Ware in England." (Act iii. sc. 2.) Nares, in his Glossary, says: "This curious piece of furniture is said to be still in being, and visible at the Crown or at the Bull in Ware. It is reported to be twelve feet square, and to be capable of holding twenty or twenty-four persons." And he refers to Chauncey's Hertfordshire for an account of the bed receiving at once twelve men and their wives, who lay at the top and bottom in this mode of arrangement,—first two men, then two women, and so on alternately,—so that no man was near to any woman but his wife. Clutterbuck, in his History, places the great bed at the Saracen's Head Inn, where a large bedstead is preserved. It is twelve feet square, of carved oak, and has the date 1463 painted on the back; but the style of the carving is Elizabethan—a century later, at least. It was traditionally sold among other movables which belonged to Warwick, the King-maker, at Ware Park, to suit which story the date is thought to have been painted. Again, it is placed at three inns—the Crown, the Bull, and Saracen's Head, at Ware, each of which may have had its "great bed."

Formerly, wealthy persons travelled with their bed in their carriage. Mr. Beckford, of Fonthill, was, probably, the last person who so travelled, in England, some forty years since, when the writer's informant saw the unpacking of the bed, at the inn-door, at Salt Hill.

The Warming-pan did not make its appearance till the Tudor times. In the inventory of the goods of Sir William More, of Loseley, in Surrey, a.d. 1556, occurs "a warmynge," considered to be a warming-pan, and the earliest recorded mention of that article. The old warming-pans were often engraved with armorial bearings, mottoes, and inscriptions. In the Welsh Levite tossed in a Blanket, 1691, we read: "Our garters, bellows, and warming-pans wore godly mottoes, &c." We find a warming-pan engraved with the arms of the Commonwealth, and the motto: "englands . stats . armes." Another warming-pan has the royal arms, C. R. and "feare god honnor ye kinge. 1662." Some years ago, there was purchased at the village of Whatcote, in Warwickshire, a warming-pan engraved with a dragon, and the date 1601; probably brought from Compton Wyniatt, the ancient seat of the Earl (now Marquis) of Northampton; the supporters of the Compton family being dragons.

The seats were mostly forms, but Chairs were sometimes used. A MS. of the fourteenth century has this item:—"To put wainscote above the dais in the king's hall, and to make a fine large and well sculptured chair." The early chair was a single seat without arms. The fauldsteuel (fauteuil in modern French) was originally a folding stool of the curule form, but afterwards the form alone was preserved; examples remain from the time of Dagobert up to a late period. Dagobert's seat is considered by some to be of much greater antiquity than his time, and the back and arms are certainly of a later period than the rest. The so-called Glastonbury chair is much to be commended for simplicity of form, perfect strength, and adaptation for comfort.

In the earlier times, chairs and benches were not stuffed but had cushions to sit upon and cloths spread over them: afterwards, as the workmanship improved, they were stuffed and covered with tapestry, leather, or velvet. The forms and workmanship of these seats were generally very rude, but the stuffs that covered them were of great richness and value, and tastefully trimmed with fringes and gimps, fastened with large brass studs or nails.

The description of the furniture in the great chamber at Hengrave, the seat of Sir Robert Kytson, temp. Henry VII., enumerates very minutely the various articles; among which are, the carpet, the tables, the cupboards, the chairs, the stools, two great chairs, silk and velvet coverings, curtains to the windows and doors, a great screen, the fire-irons, branches for lights, &c.

The floors, which at an early period were laid with rushes, were at a later one covered with a carpet, called the bord carpet. Still, carpets were used very early in the castles and mansions of the wealthy. The manufacture of carpets is of great antiquity: we read of them in the sacred writings, they were found in the ruins of Pompeii, they were introduced from the East to Spain, from Spain they passed to France and England, and when Eleanor of Castile arrived in London, in 1255, the rooms of her abode were covered with carpets; they were used generally in the palace in the reign of Edward III. Turkey carpets were first advertised for sale in London in 1660. The manufacture of carpets was introduced into France by the celebrated Colbert, in 1664. A manufactory was opened in England during the reign of Henry VIII., but this branch of industry was not permanently established until 1685, when the revocation of the Edict of Nantes drove half a million of Protestants from France, many of whom, settling in this country, established the manufacture of carpets. Brussels carpets were introduced from Tournay into Kidderminster, in 1745.

We have already described the Hall. At the further end of this apartment was generally placed a cupboard called the "Court cupboard," in which the service of plate, such as salvers and gold drinking cups, were arranged on shelves or stages, answering in some respects to our sideboards of the present day. These cupboards, though originally of rude construction, afterwards became elaborate and beautiful pieces of furniture, richly carved in oak: they are often alluded to in old documents. On grand occasions temporary stages, as cupboards, were also erected. At the marriage of Prince Arthur, son of Henry VII., in the hall was a triangular cupboard, five stages high, set with plate valued at 1,200l. entirely ornamental; and in the "utter chamber," where the princess dined, was another cupboard set with gold plate, garnished with stones and pearls, valued at 20,000l.

In the inventory of Skipton Castle, in Yorkshire, the furniture of the great hall is thus given:—"Imprimis, 7 great pieces of hangings, with the Earl's arms at large in every one of them, and powdered with the several coates of the house. 3 long tables on standard frames, 6 long forms, 1 short ditto, 1 Court cupboard, 1 fayre brass lantern, 1 iron cradle with wheels for charcoal, 1 almes tubb, 20 long pikes."

There is no mention of Mirrors, but they were used at this time, though very small, and of metal polished. The coffre or chest which contained the ladies' trousseaux, was subsequently much ornamented. The wardrobes, so called, were generally small rooms fitted with cupboards called armoiries. In 1253, "the sheriff of Southampton was ordered to make in the king's upper wardrobe, in Winchester Castle, where the king's cloths were deposited, two cupboards or armoiries, one on each side of the fireplace, with arches and a certain partition of board across the same wardrobe."[50]


[DRESS.—PERSONAL ORNAMENTS.]

rom the old accounts of the Laundry we gather some idea of mediæval clothing and personal cleanliness. Four shirts was a large allowance for a nobleman in the fifteenth century; and youths of noble rank were sent to college without a change of linen. It is upon record that Bishop Swinfield, for himself and his whole household, in the thirteenth century, only spent forty-three shillings and twopence for washing; and the Duke of Northumberland's establishment, in the time of Henry VIII. consisting of one hundred and seventy persons, only cost forty shillings for the laundry expenses of a whole year. On the other hand, the institution of "tubbing" was not unknown. Baths are frequently mentioned in the romances, and are occasionally depicted in illuminations. They were large tubs with a curtain over them, after the manner of a modern French bed.

With respect to what we now call "comfort," it is certain that all the appliances of tapestried hangings were far inferior to the modern devices of double walls, sashes, and French casements, &c. as means of excluding draughts of air. But then the costume was suited to the houses. The modern drawing-room life was scarcely possible in a mediæval mansion. It was a necessity to dress more warmly; and, as may be seen in very many mediæval illuminations, almost every one, of either sex, went with covered heads. Just in the same way, in a modern farm-house or cottage, it is common enough for hats and bonnets to be worn habitually indoors.

The flannel in general use, the wadded petticoats, and worsted stuffs and brocaded silks (so thick as almost to stand alone) for gowns, were much better calculated to resist cold and damp than the cobweb fabrics worn by modern females; and the men's clothes were of a more substantial texture, and made much fuller than the scanty modern corresponding garments of thin superfine broadcloth. The thick woollen dresses of the monks also were well contrived for preserving a comfortable portable climate. No part but the face was exposed to the external air, and this was protected by the cowl, so that they were always defended from currents of cold air in the cloisters and vaulted aisles of the now desolate monastic edifices.

Woollen cloths were long the chief material of male and female attire. When new the nap was generally very long; and after being worn for some time it was customary to have it shorn; indeed, this process was repeated as often as the stuff would bear it. Thus we find the Countess of Leicester sending Hicque, the tailor, to London, to get her robes reshorn. Among the materials for dress mentioned, are linen, sindon, which has been variously interpreted to mean satin or very fine linen; scarlet and rayed or striped cloths, of Flemish, French, or Italian make; pers, or blue cloth, for the manufacture of which Provence was famous; russet, say or serge, and blanchet or blanket, a name which, it is believed, was given to flannel. The furs named are squirrel and miniver.

Among the minor objects of personal use which appear to have belonged to Margaret de Bohun, in the fifteenth century, the "poume de ambre," or scent-ball, in the composition of which ambergris formed a principal ingredient, deserves notice; this being, perhaps, the earliest evidence of its use. We here learn also that a nutmeg was occasionally used for the like purpose; it was set with silver, decorated with stones and pearls, and was evidently an object rare and highly prized. Amongst the valuable effects of Henry V. according to an inventory dated a.d. 1423, are enumerated a musk-ball of gold, weighing eleven pounds, and another of silver-gilt. At a later period the Pomander was very commonly worn as the pendant of a lady's girdle. The peres de eagle were the stones supposed to be found in the nest of the eagle, to which various medicinal and talismanic properties were attributed. Nor are we cognizant of an earlier mention of coral than that which occurs in this inventory: namely, the paternoster of coral, with large gilded beads, which belonged to Margaret de Bohun, and the three branches of coral which Alianmore de Bohun possessed. Among her effects also is the wooden table "painted for an altar;" it formed part of the movable chapel furniture which persons of rank took with them on journeys, or used when, through infirmity, the badness of roads, or some other cause, valid in those days, they were prevented from attending public worship. Licences to use such portable altars are of frequent occurrence on the older episcopal registers.

John Evelyn, regretting "the simple manners that prevailed in his younger days, and which were now fast fading away," thus describes old-fashioned country life about the middle of the seventeenth century:—

"Men courted and chose their wives for their modesty, frugality, keeping at home, good housewifery, and other economical virtues then in reputation; and the young damsels were taught all these in the country and in their parents' houses. They had cupboards of ancient, useful plate, whole chests of damask for tables, and stores of fine Holland sheets, white as the driven snow, and fragrant of rose and lavender for the bed; and the sturdy oaken bedstead and furniture of the house lasted one whole century; the shovel-board and other long tables, both in hall and parlour, were as fixed as the freehold; nothing was movable save joint-stools, the black jacks, silver tankards, and bowls.... The virgins and young ladies of that golden age, quæsiverunt lanam et linum, put their hands to the spindle, nor disdained they the needle; were obsequious and helpful to their parents, instructed in the managery of the family, and gave presages of making excellent wives. Their retirements were devout and religious books, and their recreations in the distillatory, the knowledge of plants and their virtues, for the comfort of their poor neighbours and use of their family, which wholesome, plain diet and kitchen physic preserved in perfect health." As the quaint old ballad hath it—

"They wore shoes of a good broad heel,
And stockings of homely blue;
And they spun them upon their own wheel,
When this old hat was new."


[PINS AND PIN-MONEY.]

etal pins are said to have been introduced into this country from France in the fifteenth century: as an article of commerce they are not mentioned in our statutes until the year 1483. Before this date, we are told that ladies were accustomed to fasten their dresses by means of skewers of boxwood, ivory, or bone; this statement has been doubted, but we are assured that, to this day, the Welsh use as a pin the thorn from the hedge.

Stow assigns the first manufacture of metal pins in England to the year 1543; and they seem to have been then so badly made that in the thirty-fourth year of King Henry VIII. (1542-3), Parliament enacted that none should be sold unless they be "double-headed, and have the headdes soudered faste to the shanke of the pynne." In short, the head of the pin was to be well smoothed, the shank well shapen, and the point well rounded, filed, canted, and sharpened. The Act of Parliament, however, appears to have produced no good effect, for in the thirty-seventh year of the same reign it was repealed.

The manufacture of pins was introduced into several towns of Great Britain by individuals who, in some cases, are called the inventors of the article. The pin-makers of former days seem to have been a body somewhat difficult to please, of whom Guillim, in his Display of Heraldry, writes:—"The Society of Pinmen and Needlers, now ancient, or whether incorporated, I find not, but only that, in the year 1597, they petitioned the Lord Treasurer against the bringing in of foreign pins and needles, which did much prejudice to the calling." The Pinners' Company was incorporated by Charles I. in 1636; the Hall is on part of the ancient Priory of the Augustine, or Austin Friars; it has been, since the reign of Charles II., let as a Dissenting meeting-house: it is in Pinners'-hall-court, Old Broad-street.

The manufacture of pins formed early a lucrative branch of trade. Sixty thousand pounds, annually, is said to have been paid for them to foreign makers, in the early years of Queen Elizabeth; but, as we have seen, long before the decease of that princess, they were manufactured in this country in great quantities; and in the time of James I., the English artisan is regarded to have "exceeded every foreign competitor in the production of this diminutive, though useful article of dress."

Pennant, in his description of old London Bridge, states that "most of the houses were tenanted by pin or needle makers, and economical ladies were wont to drive from the St. James's end of the town to make cheap purchases." But Thomson, in his minute Chronicles of London Bridge, does not mention pin-makers among the trades common on the bridge; haberdashers, who came here late from the Chepe, however, sold pins.

Yet vast quantities of early pins have been recovered from the Thames near the site of the old Bridge. In 1864, Mr. Burnell exhibited to the British Archæological Association fifteen brass pins, varying in length from one inch and three-eighths to five inches and a half, stated to have been found on the paper on which they now are, in a cellar on the northern bank of the Thames, in excavating for the foundations of the South-Eastern Railway bridge. Most, if not all, of these pins have solid globose heads. At the same meeting, Mr. Syer Cuming exhibited two brass pins recovered from the mud of the Thames some years since. One is little less than two inches and a half in length, the other full seven inches and three-quarters long. The heads of both are formed with spiral wire; the shortest being globose, the other somewhat flattened. Mr. Cuming stated that quantities of such early pins as those then produced have been found in and along the banks of the river, some of them measuring upwards of a foot in length. These great pins may have been employed in securing the wide-spreading head-dresses of the Middle Ages, and fastening the ends of the pillow-case, a use not quite obsolete in the time of Swift, who speaks of "corking pins," for this purpose, in his Directions to Servants.

For some time after their introduction pins must have been costly, for we find that they were acceptable New Year's gifts to ladies, and that presents of money were made for buying pins; whence money set apart for the use of ladies received the name of pin-money.

In France, three centuries ago, there was a tax for providing the queen with pins; from whence the term of pin-money has been, undoubtedly, applied by us to that provision for married women, with which the husband is not to interfere. In Bellon's Voyages, 1553, we read:—"Quand nous donnons l'argent a quelque chambrière, nous disons pour ses épingles."

Pins must soon have been made and sold at a very cheap rate, to justify the common remark, "Not worth a pin," and equivalent expressions in some of our early writers, such as Tusser:

"His fetch is to flatter, to get what he can;
His purpose once gotten, a pin for thee than."

Pins are of various sizes, from the blanket-pin, three inches in length, to the smallest ribbon-pins, of which 300,000 only weigh one pound. Insect-pins, used by entomologists, are of finer wire than ordinary pins, and vary in length from three inches to a size smaller than ribbon-pins. It has been calculated that ten tons of pins are made every week in England alone, requiring from fourteen to fifteen tons of brass-wire.

"What becomes of all the pins?" a question every day asked, received an answer, a few years since, upon the opening of an old sewer for repair, in Rea-street, Birmingham. At the bottom of it was a deposit as hard as the "slag" from a blast furnace, and in this deposit a vast number of pins were embedded: a piece about the size of a man's fist bristled with them, and this was but a specimen of a great mass of such matter. In another way, too, the deposit was a curiosity; for, independently of the pins, it inclosed a heterogeneous collection of old pocket-knives, marbles, buttons, &c.

Anciently, there were local springs, known as Pin Wells, in passing which the country maids dropped into the water a crooked pin to propitiate the fairy of the well. In some places, rich and poor believed this superstition.


[PROVISIONS:]