Next we walk over the great lawn, to the greenhouse five hundred feet away. We are invited there by the venerable gardener, but not without hope of reward. Here is the celebrated Warwick Vase; and who, claiming knowledge of art, has not heard of it? It stands on a pedestal six feet high. It is of marble, now of yellowish tinge, but tolerably white. It is remarkably rich in carvings, and of great age, its early history being lost in antiquity. It appeared to be six feet in diameter, and the same in height. It was years ago found in a lake near Tivoli, and presented to the Earl of Warwick. All over the civilized world may be seen copies of this vase, made by permission of the owner.
Standing at the door of this conservatory, and facing towards the castle, a scene of wonderful beauty is presented. The spot is somewhat elevated, and we look for miles over hills, velvet fields, and woodlands. Conspicuous among the trees, making our picture's foreground, are spreading cedars of Lebanon. The river meanders on its quiet way; and the winding road, half hidden, adds its charm. Bordering the lawn which makes our left foreground is the cheerful castle, in color a sort of buff-tinged granite. It is by no means ancient in appearance, but the reverse, except in its design. The main tower is 128 feet high, and dates back full five hundred years. There is another, 147 feet high, of uncertain date. Ivy has its way, and covers parts of the great structure. The castle is colossal, its outlines broken by octagonal and square towers. Let us visit the castle itself. An additional shilling is to be paid to the young woman who guides us, and who only commences her tour when the proper number of visitors has accumulated. We pass through four or five large rooms, of elegantly finished oak and pine, painted and gilded. The furniture and upholstery are rich in design,—some ancient, some modern, but all in keeping with the place. Pictures abound,—many of them are by the Masters. Bric-a-brac is in profusion, much of it hundreds of years old, presented to former earls by royalty. There is also a museum of armor. In one room is a chimney, or open fireplace, with its cheerful fire. It is some nine feet wide, projecting well into the room, and is high enough to walk into.
What fine views from the rear windows! Beyond are the meadows and the groves; and to the right, extending countryward, are the hills and scenery before described.
The town was formerly walled, and there yet remains a gateway, surmounted by a chapel. Half a mile up the main street is Leicester Hospital, endowed centuries ago by the Earl of Leicester, and charmingly described by Hawthorne. Here is the ancient chair, said to be a thousand years old, accurate copies of which are for sale.
Near by is the church, built in 1693, with its massive tower of delightful proportions. How charming are the old mansions with their profusion of trees, all combining to make Warwick a most inviting place.
In the twilight, at the late hour of 9.30, the worshippers were coming out of old St. Mary's Church, which is situated at the most public centre, in the midst of a venerable churchyard. It is an ancient Gothic edifice, having an end tower with a tall spire above it. The dim-lighted interior carried us back into a distant age.
What ground have we gone over in a few hours!—hours not over-crowded by any means.
Monday we are up early for a new ramble,—first to see the town anew; next to visit the castle already described; and then to go over the Old Hospital, and to hear its history from a guide-inmate. Built and endowed by one of the old earls hundreds of years ago, it has apartments of two or three rooms each, accomodating perhaps ten families. These are for old soldiers, who are past a given age and possess certain requisites. They must have wives, and on the death of one soldier his place passes to another. About $350 a year is given them for subsistence, out of an endowment fund, and of course the rent is free. On the death of the husband, $100 is given to the widow, who must vacate the premises. If the wife dies first, then the husband also gives up the apartment and endowment, and goes into the common home, in another part of the building. Great neatness prevails, and all is under supervision of the chaplain, or Master.