This individual was Sir Balthazar Gerbier, to whom Horace Walpole devotes several pages in his “Anecdotes of Painting,” where he treats of him as a painter. But Gerbier does not appear to have pursued any art with much application. He hung on the fringe of state affairs, and was a versatile adventurer of indifferent character, if Walpole does him no injustice. Among other things he dabbled in architecture. He was surveyor to the Duke of Buckingham, for whom he is said to have designed a temporary house on the site of old York House in the Strand. According to Gerbier’s own account, in a letter to the duke dated 2nd December 1624, Inigo Jones came to see this house, and “was like one surprised and abashed ... he is very jealous of it.”[47] It may have been so, but it is certain that Gerbier was jealous of Jones, for he makes several slighting references to him in the little book which he published, “Of Counsel and Advice to all Builders.” It is, indeed, this book which gives him a claim to be mentioned in connection with architecture, and that because of incidental allusions to matters of interest. In his dedication to Charles II. (the book was published in 1664) he advises the king to set the main body of his contemplated palace on the side of St James’s Park, and the gardens along the river. This, no doubt, refers to the schemes upon which Webb, as already mentioned, was then engaged. Gerbier has several oblique as well as one direct thrust at Inigo Jones. He carps at those “who have marshald colombs,” and have made them “like things patcht or glewed against a wall, and for the most part against the second Story of a Building ... as if their intent were, that the weight of the colombs should draw down the Wall on the heads of those that passe by.” Doubtless this was an allusion to the Banqueting House, about which he makes further and more definite criticisms. After cavilling at the elaboration of stage effects in masques, he roundly states that “Inigo Jones (the late surveyor)” found the Banqueting House unsuitable for such purposes, and that he “was constrained to Build a Wooden House overthwart the Court of Whitehall.” He then takes exception to the height of the room, alleging that the king and his retinue were lost in it because of its vastness; and goes on to say that he does not undervalue any modern works, “every good Talent being commendable,” including, presumably, even the late surveyor’s. At the same time there were some alive who knew that the king of blessed memory had graciously avouched, in the year 1648, that a room near York Gate not above 35 ft. square (which was the one Gerbier had designed himself) was as apt for masques as the Banqueting House itself. Moreover judicious persons would not deny that the excellence of the Triumphal Arches erected in London (which Gerbier is said to have designed for the entry of Charles II.) consisted not in their bulk.
The book abounds in malicious and egotistical touches of this kind, both in the two treatises into which it is divided, and in the forty dedicatory epistles which he deemed necessary to the launching of his venture. But amid a deal of skimble-skamble stuff, he says a few things worth noting. Chimneys need only be carried about 2 ft. above the ridge; large and lofty stacks he deems unsightly and dangerous. Staircases should be easy of ascent and wide. Anyone who has sound limbs and a “gallant gate” naturally lifts his toes at least 4 inches in walking; if, therefore, stairs be only 4 inches high and 18 from front to back, the ordinary person can walk up them as easily as he can walk on the level. His reasons for these proportions are hardly convincing, but in regard to the width of staircases he is probably nearer the mark, when he says they ought to be so wide that the attendants on each side the noble person who is ascending may not be straitened for room.
His advice to persons contemplating building, that they should employ an architect and should not be constantly interfering with him, is undoubtedly sound: and one reason advanced for employing an architect, namely, that “the several Master-workmen may receive instructions by way of Draughts, Models, Frames, etc.,” is interesting as showing that architects were now accustomed to provide more minute details than in the time of Elizabeth and James. One more reference and this curious book, with its few noteworthy observations buried in pages of involved verbiage, may be left. In speaking of such as were concerned with building he says, “they may perchance have heard of rare buildings, nay, seen the Books of the Italian Architects, have the Traditions of Vignola in their Pockets, and have heard Lectures on the Art of Architecture.” It is interesting to learn that in addition to books on architecture there were opportunities, so long ago, to hear lectures on the subject; but it is probable that, in his usual egotistical way, Gerbier is here referring to lectures which he himself had given at an academy which he founded in Bethnal Green, in imitation, Walpole suggests, of another established by Charles I. for instruction in arts and sciences, foreign languages, mathematics, painting, architecture, riding, fortification, antiquities, and the science of medals.[48]
The “Counsel” concludes with a lengthy schedule of prices at which all kinds of building work could be executed.
Little, if any, architectural work can with safety be attributed to Gerbier. Hamstead Marshall, which is said to be his, is more probably due to his pupil, Wynne, to whom, as Master William Wine, he addresses one of his numerous dedications.
Walpole says that Wynne, or Winde as he calls him, finished the house which had been begun by his master, making several alterations in the plan; but the history of the owner and of the house, as well as the character of the work, renders it doubtful whether Gerbier could have had anything to do with it. The house was one of the seats of William, Lord Craven; it has been destroyed with the exception of some fine gate-piers and part of the lay out, but Kip has an engraving of it in “Britannia Illustrata” (Fig. [108]). There are also a few drawings of details in the Bodleian Library, including windows, gate-piers, doors, and a ceiling. The windows and piers can be identified on Kip’s engraving, as also can the general lay out, thus confirming the accuracy of Kip’s view. His illustration shows the house with a front of Jacobean design as to its two lower stories, but of later character as to the third story and the return front. The windows of this later work agree in general appearance with the drawing at the Bodleian, which shows festoons above the windows and panels between them, decorated with Lord Craven’s cipher, W. C., and a baron’s coronet (Fig. [109]).
By examining Kip’s view in the light of the principal facts of Lord Craven’s life, and of the dates on the Bodleian drawings, a shrewd guess can be made as to the history of the house. In his youth William Craven achieved such honour through “valiant adventures” in Germany and the Netherlands under Henry, Prince of Orange, that in the year 1626, when he was eighteen years old, he was knighted by Charles I. at Newmarket and was immediately afterwards created a baron, with the title of Lord Craven of Hamstead Marshall. In 1631 he returned to the scenes of his early glories, and continued to reside abroad until the Restoration. Although absence prevented him from fighting for Charles I. he was a staunch loyalist, and helped the king with considerable supplies. This brought him under the notice of the Parliament, and his estates were confiscated in 1651, and sold to different persons.[49] After the Restoration, however, Charles II. created him an earl in recompense for his services, and he must previously have regained possession of Hamstead Marshall, since the drawings for the new work bear a baron’s coronet and various dates, of which the earliest is 1662.
Fig. 108.—HAMSTEAD MARSHALL, Berkshire.
From Kip’s “Britannia Illustrata.”