The banqueting hall of the house is situated over the gateway, and is a fine room lighted by a mullioned window, and containing some good and very ancient oak carving and panelling, and also some beautiful tapestry. Unfortunately the high pitched roof of open timber–work has been covered by a plaster ceiling.

A touch of romance still hangs about the adjoining room, which is the library, but is traditionally known as the “Ghost Room,” and was in former times popularly supposed to be haunted, possibly by the spirit of Nicholas Brome or that of the parish priest he found, according to Dugdale, “chocking his wife under the chin, whereat he was so enraged that he presently kil’d him.” For this offence the murderer had to obtain the King’s pardon and also the Pope’s, who enjoined him to do something towards expiation of his crime. In pursuance of this mandate he built the “tower–steeple,” and bought three bells for it, as well as carrying out other additions and alterations to the thirteenth–century church of Baddesley.

In the church are many monuments of the Bromes and Ferrers, and also some beautiful and ancient stained glass in the east window. In connection with the manor of Baddesley Clinton there is an interesting entry in the Manor Rolls, recording that the Shakespeare family held lands in Baddesley as early as 1389, and it is possible that these were the remote ancestors of the poet himself.

It seems not improbable that much of the oak panelling and most of the carved mantelpieces in the house were placed there by Edward Ferrers, son of the antiquarian, about the middle of the seventeenth century, or perhaps rather earlier. The decorations within the house make plain for the student of architecture, and to the eyes of the skilled antiquarian, the three chief periods of its history. The outer walls are those of the ancient home of the Bromes, as it came into possession of the Ferrers family; but inside the house are many evidences of the money spent in its fittings and beautifying by Edward Ferrers towards the middle part of the seventeenth century. Then there is the last period, comprising the black and white timber–work and other restorations carried out by Captain Dering, who found on his accession to the property the building suffering from the ravages of both age and neglect.

Few manor–houses in Warwickshire possess greater charms than Baddesley Clinton, and the views from the upper windows into the ivy–covered courtyard, with its wealth of flower–beds and blossom, are charming to a degree.

Some eight miles north–east of Baddesley Clinton, through a stretch of pretty country, lies Packington Park, famous for its ancient oaks, and made unusually picturesque by the presence of its sheets of ornamental water. Packington Hall is now the seat of the Earl of Aylesford, a substantial building, set amid a pleasant park, built by Sir Clement Fisher in 1693, and enlarged and faced with stone three–quarters of a century later. About a mile to the north–east of Maxstoke Priory lies Maxstoke Castle, surrounded by fine trees, so retired that its very existence might be unsuspected by those who pass along the road at the foot of the avenue.

Few houses in England can be exactly compared with this wonderfully preserved survival of medieval times, which is set in so picturesque a position, surrounded by trees of a deer park of considerable size. All who have visited Maxstoke are agreed concerning the almost unique interest that this ancient fortified residence possesses for students of architecture and of the manners and customs of past ages. In Maxstoke, indeed, there is little to break the medieval spell which seems to hang so closely about its time–worn walls, and be so in keeping with its retired situation. As one approaches it by the fine avenue of elms leading, for the last portion of it, in a straight line to the gate–house and bridge, one almost, indeed, expects to see watchers upon the twin towers, and to find one’s ingress barred by closely–shut doors and lowered portcullis.

A beautiful survival of a past age, now the residence of the Tangye family, whose name is so intimately connected with the neighbouring city of Birmingham, the house has been closely identified with many historic names and strenuous deeds of English history.

It dates from the period when the great and strongly fortified castles—more fortresses, indeed, than residences—were giving place to dwelling–houses, well–defended, it is true, but which, though still protected by walls, towers, and even drawbridges and portcullises, were yet an indication of the change bound to come when such defences became unnecessary.

The foundations of the Castle, which is completely enclosed within an embattled enceinte, and is protected by a deep and broad moat and defended by strong angle towers, were laid by William de Clinton under a licence from Edward III. in 1345. The great entrance, a survival of the old barbican, is beneath or rather between two tall and formidable towers; the ancient drawbridge having been replaced by a stone bridge crossing the moat, and leading from the avenue of elms to the courtyard. But although both drawbridge and portcullis are gone, the grooves in which the latter was lowered still remain, as do the ancient oaken doors scarred by the weather of centuries, and perhaps by evidences of attack. The Castle itself lies in one of the most beautiful districts of England, almost midway between Birmingham and Coventry.