Amongst the distinguished people belonging to the neighborhood of Burnley was General Scarlett, who led the charge of the Heavy Cavalry at Balaclava,—brilliant feat of arms much more satisfactory to military men than the fruitless sacrifice of the Light Brigade, which, however, is incomparably better known. I recollect General Scarlett chiefly because he set me thinking about a very important question in political economy. I happened to be sitting next him at dinner when the talk turned upon wine, and the General said, "The Radicals find fault with the economy of the Queen's household because they say that the wine drunk there costs sixteen thousand a year. I don't know what it costs, but that is of no consequence." I then timidly inquired if he did not think it was a waste of money, on which, in a kind way, he explained to me that "if the money were paid and put into circulation it did not signify what it had been spent upon." I knew there was something fallacious in this, but my own ideas were not clear upon the subject, and it did not become me to set up an argument with a distinguished old officer like the General. Of course the right answer is that there is always a responsibility for spending money so as to be of use not only to the tradesman who pockets it, but to the consumers also. If the wine gave health and wisdom it would hardly be possible to spend too much upon it.
CHAPTER XXIX.
I visit the homes of my forefathers at Hamerton, Wigglesworth, and Hellifield Peel.—Attainder and execution of Sir Stephen Hamerton.— Return of Hellifield Peel to the family.—Sir Richard.—The Hamertons distinguished only for marrying heiresses.—Another visit to the Peel, when I see my father's cousin.—Nearness of Hellifield Peel and Hollins.
In one of these years (the exact date is of no consequence) I visited the old houses in Yorkshire which had belonged to our family in former times. The place we take our name from, Hamerton, belonged to Richard de Hamerton in 1170. I found the old hall still in existence, or a part of it, and though the present building evidently does not date from the twelfth century, it dates from the occupation of my forefathers. At the time of my visit there was some very massive oak wainscot still remaining.
The situation is, to my taste, one of the pleasantest in England. The house is On a hill, from which it looks down on the valley of Slaidburn. Steep green pastures slope to the flat meadows in the lower ground, which are watered by a stream. There are many places of that character in Yorkshire, and they have never lost their old charm for me. I cannot do without a hill, and a stream, and a green field. [Footnote: Since this was written I have been compelled to do without them by the necessity for living close to an art-centre, a necessity against which I rebelled as long as I could. Even to-day, however, I would joyously give all Paris for such a place as Hollins or Hamerton (as I knew them), with their streams and pastures, and near or distant hills.]
My forefathers lived at Hamerton, more or less, from a time of which there is no record down to the reign of Henry VIII., but their principal seat in the time of their greatest prosperity was Wigglesworth Hall. I arrived there in time to see masons demolishing the building. One or two Gothic arched door-ways still remained, but were probably destroyed the next week. Just enough, of the house was preserved to shelter the occupant of the farm.
For me this unnecessary destruction is always distressing, even in foreign countries. It is excusable in towns, where land is dear; but in the country the site of an old hall is of such trifling value that it might surely be permitted to fall peaceably to ruin.
The family of De Arches, to which Wigglesworth originally belonged, bore for arms gules, three arches argent. The coincidence struck me forcibly when I saw the Gothic arches still standing amongst the ruins.
The place came into the possession of our family by the marriage of Adam de Hamerton, in the fourteenth century, with Katharine, heiress of Elias de Knoll of Knolsmere. His father, Reginald de Knoll, had married Beatrix de Arches, heiress of the manor of Wigglesworth. These estates, with others too numerous to mention, remained in our family till they were lost by the attainder of Sir Stephen Hamerton, who joined the insurrection known as "The Pilgrimage of Grace" in the reign of Henry VIII.
During these excursions to old houses I visited Hellifield Peel, still belonging to the chief of our little clan. The Peel is an old border tower, embattled, and with walls of great thickness. It is large enough to make a tolerably spacious, but not very convenient, modern house, and my great uncle spoiled its external appearance by inserting London sash windows in the gray old fortress wall. On this occasion I did not see the interior, not desiring to claim a relationship that had fallen into abeyance for half-a-century; yet I felt the most intense curiosity about it, and for more than twenty years afterwards I dreamed from time to time I got inside the Peel, and saw quite a museum of knightly armor [Footnote: The first Sir Stephen Hamerton was made a knight banneret in Scotland by Richard, Duke of Gloucester, in the reign of Edward IV. He married Isabel, daughter of Sir William Plumpton, of Plumpton, and a letter of his is still extant in the Plumpton correspondence.] and other memorials which, I regret to say, have not been preserved in reality.