HAWKSTONE
is a township, in the parish of Hodnet, six miles S.W. from Market Drayton, eight miles and a half S. from Whitchurch, and thirteen miles N.N. by W. from Shrewsbury. At the census in 1841 here were six houses and 60 inhabitants. The township contains 693a. 2r. 32p. of land, the tithes of which have been commuted for £115. Hawkstone Park, the magnificent seat of Viscount Hill, is delightfully situated in a park of great extent and picturesque beauty, not far from the turnpike road leading from Shrewsbury to Whitchurch, and has long been an alluring object to the admirers of nature, as well as to persons of taste and curiosity. The mansion is of brick, with stone finishings, and occupies three sides of a quadrangle, but it does not appear by whom it was originally built. The principal front is approached by a flight of steps, leading through a noble portico (supported by four elegant pillars of the composite order), considered an admirable piece of architecture. Sir Rowland Hill, Bart., added the wings, and made other considerable additions to the hall, which was the family mansion of the Hills in the time of Edward VI., in which reign we find, A.D. 1549, Sir Rowland Hill, Bart., was Lord Mayor of London. The Entrance Hall is adorned with ancient and modern armour, much of it collected at Waterloo, by the late General Lord Hill. The Saloon is a lofty and spacious apartment, fitted up in a costly manner, and adorned with some fine paintings; among which is the Siege of Namur, the five principal characters of which were taken from life. They are William III., the Elector of Bavaria, the Duke of Marlborough, Count Cohorn, and the Right Hon. Richard Hill, who was at that time Paymaster of the Army, Member of the Privy Council, and Envoy at the Court of Turin. The Drawing Room is a noble apartment, exquisitely furnished, and containing several fine paintings, executed by some of the most celebrated masters. The ceiling and walls are richly ornamented and gilt, and the furniture is of the same gorgeous description. The Library contains an extensive and valuable collection of books, chiefly modern works; several fine paintings; and in a glass case are the sword and orders of the late General Lord Hill. The Billiard Room contains several valuable pillars brought from Egypt by General Lord Hill. The Chapel forms the south-west wing of the hall, and is now undergoing a complete reparation. A marble pulpit and stained glass windows (the latter illustrative of scripture history) have been added, which give the interior a solemn and imposing appearance. The Museum contains many interesting objects of curiosity, and an extensive and valuable collection of British birds. Adjoining the library is the Sculpture Gallery. There are also various other apartments, adorned in the most tasteful and costly style, which our limits will not allow us to notice. The Gardens are laid out with taste, and contain a number of small ponds for aquatic birds. Near the hall on a gentle eminence is the Summer House, a handsome octagonal building of Grinshill freestone; the interior of which is painted in fresco, and represents the four seasons. From the window there is a pleasing prospect of a fine sheet of water; and in the distance appear the Broxton hills and Delamere forest, in Cheshire. A pleasant walk leads from the summer house to the Gulph, which separates the grotto rock from the opposite heights. On emerging from the beautiful lawn, the most romantic scenery suddenly presents itself to the eye of the spectator; and proceeding along a rising walk on the side of the rock, the traveller is conducted to the entrance of The Grotto, a cleft in the rock, which had lain for ages undiscovered, till Sir Richard Hill caused all the earth to be dug away, when it was found that the two sides of the rock so nearly corresponded with each other that they were doubtless once united, and separated either by an earthquake or some other violent convulsion of the earth. After proceeding about a hundred yards, you arrive at the grotto, which is a vast subterraneous cave, supported by rude pillars hewn out of the solid rock; in the midst of which is a spacious recess, ingeniously inlaid with shells, fossils, and curious petrefactions. Through a colonnade of rude pillars this labyrinth is quitted by a door on the west, which opens on an awful precipice of huge rocks and pending crags, hoary with age, forming a striking contrast with the verdant lawn and fertile plain in the distance. Proceeding under the grotto hill, by a road cut out of the shelving rock, and looking upwards, you behold enormous crags hanging over you, as if on the very point of falling. This hill stretches to the south-west to a considerable distance; and the gigantic rocks heaped one upon another look more like ruined castles than the turrets of nature. On leaving the grotto hill, you proceed by the side of stately oaks and rugged cliffs till you arrive at a natural cave called The Retreat, the top of which is tinged with variegated copper. In this cave, with its straw-matted seat and stone table, is a beautiful stanza, penned by the late Sir Richard Hill. After quitting the retreat, you pass by The Canopy and The Indian Rock, surrounded by scenery of the most romantic character, and mount up a curiously hewn pathway along the rock till you reach a little cottage, in which is the figure of a hermit, in a sitting posture, with a table before him, on which is a skull, an hour glass, a book, and a pair of spectacles. The next attraction is St. Francis’s Cave, the entrance to which is under a curiously twisted root of a venerable yew tree. After groping for some yards in total darkness, you suddenly emerge into cheering light, and which ever way you turn the most enchanting prospects are stretched out before you. A detached piece of rock of a pyramidical form is called The Fox’s Knob, from the circumstance of a fox, some years ago, leaping from the top to the valley beneath; and being followed by some of the dogs, the pursuers and the pursued perished together. Turning to the left, a verdant walk leads to the summit of The Terrace. This delightful walk is embosomed in the varied foliage of forest trees, which reach down to the ground, with openings here and there through which distant prospects are viewed. Passing beyond the limits of these Alpine heights, you arrive at Reynard’s Banqueting House, a natural cavern, in which were found the remains of hares, rabbits, and all sorts of poultry, which the foxes had carried there to feast upon.
On the highest point of the terrace is erected a noble Obelisk, built of white freestone, and about one hundred and twelve feet high. From the top of this column a most unbounded prospect presents itself to view, and England and Wales vie with each other in the loftiness of their mountains and the richness of their plains. The gallery of the obelisk forms an observatory for the astronomer. The inscription on the base transmits to posterity the piety and noble acts of a venerable ancestor, a statue of whom in his lord mayor’s gown, copied from an ancient monument which stood in the church of St. Stephen’s, Walbrook, before the fire of London, is placed on the top, holding the Magna Charta in his hand. The following is the inscription at the base:—
“The righteous shall be had in everlasting remembrance.”—Psalm, cvi. 6.
The first stone of this pillar was laid by Sir Richard Hill, Bart. (member in several parliaments for this county), on the 1st day of October, in the year 1795; who caused it to be erected, not only for the various uses of an observatory and to feast the eye by presenting it at one view with a most luxuriant and extensive prospect, which takes in not less than twelve (or, as some assert, fifteen) counties, but from motives of justice, respect, and gratitude, to the memory of a truly great and good man, viz., Sir Rowland Hill, Knight, who was born at the family mansion, Hawkstone, in the reign of King Henry VII., and being bred to trade and free of the city of London, became one of the most considerable and opulent merchants of his time, and was lord mayor of the same in the second and third years of the reign of Edward VI., anno 1549 and 1550, and was the first Protestant that filled that high office. Having embraced the principles of the Reformation, he zealously exerted himself in behalf of the Protestant cause, and having been diligent in the use of all religious exercises, “prayerful, conscientious, and watchful” (as a writer of his character expresses it), yet trusting only in the merit of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, he exchanged this life for a better, a short while after the death of that pious young monarch, being aged nearly seventy-eight years.
For a considerable time previous to his decease he gave up his mercantile occupations that he might with more devotedness of heart attend to the great concerns of another world. His lands, possessions, and church patronage were immense, particularly in the counties of Salop and Chester, the number of his tenants (none of whom he ever raised or fined) amounting to 1,181, as appears from his own hand writing. His private virtues, good deeds and munificent spirit, were quite unlimited and extended—like the prospect before us, east, west, north, and south, far surpassing all bounds. “Being sensible,” saith Fuller, speaking of him in his “Worthies of England,” “that his great estate was given him of God,” it was his desire to devote it to His glory. He built a spacious church in his own parish Hodnet, and likewise the neighbouring church at Stoke at his own expense. He built Tern and Atcham bridges in this county, both of hewn stone, and containing several arches each. He also built other large bridges of timber. He built and endowed several large schools, particularly that of Drayton. He made and paved divers highways for the public utility. He founded exhibitions and educated many students at both universities, and supported at the inns and courts others who were brought up to the law. He was the unwearied friend of the widow and fatherless. He clothed annually three hundred poor people in his neighbourhood, both with shirts and coats; and in the city of London he gave £500 (an immense sum in those days) to St. Bartholomew’s Hospital, besides (saith Fuller) £600 to Christ’s Hospital. He also gave most liberally to all other hospitals, and at his death bequeathed £150 to the poor of all the wards in London. He had no children, but his relations and kinsfolk were numerous, who all partook largely of his bounty, both in his lifetime and at his death. He constantly kept up a great family household, where he maintained good hospitality. Many resorted to him for his wise and salutary advice, and none who came to him were sent empty or dissatisfied away. Go thou and do likewise, as far as thy ability will permit, without injury to thy own relations. It is worthy of remark that as Sir Rowland Hill was the first protestant lord mayor, anno 1549, so his father, Thomas Hill, Esq., of Hawkstone, was the last lord mayor of the Roman Catholic persuasion.
A walk from the terrace leads to the White Tower, a Gothic structure, situated on a bold projection on the south-west side of the terrace, which is a conspicuous object for several miles round. In the glen not far from the White Tower is a cave in the rock, made accessible by means of some steps through a narrow romantic walk, and which is remarkable for having been the hiding place of an ancestor of the Hill family, who met with great hardships from the parliamentary forces during the commonwealth. In memory of this gentleman the late Sir Richard Hill caused a handsome urn to be placed near the cave above mentioned, with the following inscription on the base of it:—
Anno 1784.
This urn
was placed here by Sir Richard Hill, Bart.,
(eldest son of Sir Rowland Hill, Bart.)
one of the Knights of this Shire,
as a token of affection to the memory of his much respected ancestor,
Rowland Hill, of Hawkstone, Esquire;
a gentleman remarkable for his great wisdom, piety, and charity, who, being
a zealous royalist, hid himself in this glen, in the civil wars in the
time of King Charles the First.But being discovered, was imprisoned in the adjacent castle, commonly called Red Castle, whilst his house was pillaged and ransacked by the rebels. The castle itself was soon after demolished.
His son, Rowland Hill, Esq., coming to his assistance, also suffered much in the same loyal cause.
The Vineyard is a sequestered glen, embosomed in foliage and screened by the rocks behind and on each side, and open only to the south sun, and apparently peculiarly adapted to the growth and culture of the vine; but although every effort was tried, the attempt did not succeed. It was laid out in the manner of a fortification, with turrets, walls, and bastions, at very great expense, by the late Sir Richard Hill. From the tower may be seen the town of Shrewsbury, many of the Cambrian hills, the magnificent Wrekin, and the towering heights of the Briedden hills, on the latter of which is the pillar erected in honour of Lord Rodney. About a mile from the tower is the Burgh Walls, or Bury Walls, the remains of a grand Roman camp, allowed by antiquarians to be the most perfect in the kingdom. It encompasses about twenty acres of ground, and is screened on all sides but one by a chain of inaccessible rocks. The side on which there is no natural defence is strongly guarded by a triple entrenchment, which must have been a work of immense labour. Here Roman coins have frequently been found, and in the year 1821 a spur, pronounced by competent judges to be of Roman workmanship, was found in the garden of the Bury farm, about a quarter of a mile from Bury Walls. The Elysian Hill is another object of attraction; and here you find various rude and whimsical seats to rest upon, by the side of the mossy bank or rocky cavern, as you ascend the steep acclivity. An enchanting valley divides this hill from the Red Castle Hill, so called from the colour of the rock, and of the stone with which the castle is built. Having ascended the romantic heights, you enter the castle through a strong door or gateway. This fortress, long the seat of warriors, and remarkable for its strength and the prodigious thickness of its walls, is now a heap of ruins, and inhabited only by birds of prey, whilst its martial sons are buried in oblivion, and nothing left to perpetuate their deeds of prowess but these fragments of desolation. Dugdale informs us that this castle was erected in the reign of Henry III.; but an ancient manuscript in the Audley family proves it to have had a much earlier existence. It is there said that “Maud, or Matilda, wife of William the Conqueror, gave to John de Audley and to his heirs, the lands about Red Castle, in the county of Salop, for certain services done by him to the state.” The castle and surrounding domain were purchased by Sir Rowland Hill, Bart., about the middle of the eighteenth century. On the castle hill there is a deep well, commonly called the Giant’s Well, the depth of which, from the top of the tower, is two hundred and six feet; it is ten feet in diameter at the entrance, and hewn out of the solid rock. The tower is also hewn out of the solid rock to the height of about forty feet. Near to the well a coffin was found, many years ago, which, on being exposed to the air, crumbled into dust; in it were discovered several human bones, and the iron beard of an arrow. The southern entrance to the glen, which divides the castle into two nearly equal parts, is flanked on each side by a rock, on which formerly stood watch towers; and where the fosse, which intersected the glen, required additional defence or altitude, masonry was employed. A wall of great strength has crossed the glen at each end, passing up the slopes of the hill, connecting the rocks which overlook the entrances, and enclosing an area of an oblong form. The approach to the highest division of the castle is by steps cut out of the solid rock, and continued through a low tortuous passage, the entrance to which has been guarded by a door. A wall of about three hundred feet in circumference has been carried round the summit of the rock, the sides of which are for the most part perpendicular. The park is richly adorned with timber, and the scenery is pleasingly diversified and enchanting—the awfulness of its shades, the horrors of its precipices, the verdure of its hollows, and the loftiness of its rocks, all combine to give an additional charm to the fairy scene. A fine sheet of water, in some parts nearly one hundred yards in breadth, stretches for upwards of two miles in length, and forms the boundary to the north and west sides of the park. The park is stocked with herds of Scotch bullocks, and upwards of six hundred head of deer.
The principal residents in Hawkstone are Rowland Viscount Hill, Hawkstone Park; Rev. William Blackley, domestic chaplain; William Carling, butler; Mrs. Morgan, housekeeper; Frederick Nieman, gardener; John Hopkins, farmer; and Thomas Holding, farmer.