A tour through the northern counties of England, and the borders of Scotland/Volume 1
ITINERARY.
| Miles. | ||
| From | Bath to Glocester | 38 |
| Tewkesbury | 10 | |
| Worcester | 15 | |
| Bromsgrove | 15 | |
| Hagley | 7 | |
| Stourbridge | 2 | |
| Dudley | 4 | |
| Walsal | 8 | |
| Lichfield | 9 | |
| Burton | 13 | |
| Derby | 11 | |
| Ashbourne | 13 | |
| Mapleton | 3 | |
| Oakover | 1 | |
| Dovedale and Islam, and back | 10 | |
| Matlock | 11 | |
| Chatsworth | 9 | |
| Tideswell | 10 | |
| Buxton | 7 | |
| Castleton | 12 | |
| Sheffield | 16 | |
| Rotherham | 6 | |
| Bank-top, by Lord Fitzwilliam's | 12 | |
| Wentworth-Castle | 33 | |
| To | Wakefield, through Barnsley | 12 |
| Leeds | 9 | |
| Harewood | 9 | |
| Harrowgate | 8 | |
| Knaresborough | 3 | |
| Borough-Bridge | 7 | |
| Newby | 3 | |
| Rippon | 6 | |
| Studley | 7 | |
| Hackfall | 3 | |
| Masham | 3 | |
| Bedale | 6 | |
| Catterick-Bridge | 8 | |
| Darlington | 14 | |
| Bushford | 9 | |
| Durham | 9 | |
| Cocker | 5 | |
| Lumley-Castle | 3 | |
| Sunderland | 9 | |
| Newcastle | 13 | |
| 381 |
LETTER I.
To WILLIAM JOHNSTON, Esq;
THAT "success leads to rashness," is a truth established by daily experience; and I cannot help fearing, that I may assist its confirmation, by adding my own example to the numerous instances in which it has been already manifested. Emboldened by your favourable reception of my letters from the West,*[1] you see me once more preparing to tax your time and patience in a similar manner, though to a greater degree, by pressing upon your notice the fruits of a much more extensive tour into the North. As an excuse, however, for the increased bulk of my communications, I flatter myself I shall be enabled to offer you novelty and variety in an equal proportion; since my present expedition will embrace several subjects which could not present themselves to my notice in a journey through a part of England more remarkable for the beauties of nature, than rich in the productions of the fine or useful arts. Commerce, œconomics, and manufactures, will now occasionally claim our attention, and an increased interest will be given to my correspondence, by descriptions of classical sculpture, accounts of the productions of the Italian and Flemish schools, and biographical notices of characters great and distinguished in their day, who now only live in the page of the historian, or the portrait-galleries of their descendants.
Directing our attention first to Bristol, we quitted Bath by the lower road, which takes for the most part the level, and in a great measure the course, of the river Avon, nearly the whole of the distance between the two cities. This stream, however, excites in us, as it "flows mournfully muddily on," none of those poetical ideas which seem to be necessarily connected with a river synonymous to that on whose banks the immortal Shakespeare "warbled his native wood-notes wild." But though it do not feed the imagination, the Avon has more substantial claims to our regard, since it enriches with its sluggish waters a long tract of meadows that let for 5l. an acre, and carries on its patient bosom the heavy traffic which passes betwixt the two towns. From this flat road all distant prospect is precluded, the scene being confined to the acclivities of Lansdown which rise to the right, the vale which shoots forward in front, and the ascending lands of Newton and Corston parishes to the left.
A little diversion from the turnpike on this side introduced us to Newton-Park, the seat of William Gore Langton, esq; member for the county, the noble woods of which, crowning the summit of the higher grounds in the demesne, have a particularly grand effect in a country not remarkable for massiveness of shade. The house, handsome and substantial, of modern architecture, is placed with judgment on a spot at once sheltered and commanding, taking in from one of its fronts a beautiful home-Scene (in which the factitious piece of water and its banks make elegant ornaments) and a diversified distant prospect. It rose, phoenix-like, from the ruins of a more ancient edifice, begun probably by its original lords, the Norman family of St. Lo, or De Sancto Laudo, who in the latter end of Henry Illd.'s reign numbered this manor on the list of their possessions.
Amongst the other instances of royal oppression which the Pipe-Rolls of John's reign afford, (a prince as wicked as he was weak, and as extortionate as avaricious) is a fine mentioned to have been levied on Roger de Sancto Laudo as a heriot, on the demise of his ancestor, for the manors of Newton and Publow, to the amount of one hundred pounds and two palfries, a sum of considerable importance in the twelfth century. Justly irritated by the extravagant levy, Roger joined the association of the Barons who rose in arms against the tyrannical John, and had the satisfaction, if tradition may be believed, of keeping him for some time as a captive in one of the towers of his castellated mansion at Newton, the scene of the monarch's rapacity. All vestiges of this edifice, the prison of a king, have long since disappeared; but an embattled gateway of a later date is preserved, as a memorial of the venerable edifice which frowned over the park of Newton St. Lo In the fourteenth century. The estate continued in the family of St. Lo till the reign of Richard II. and then passed, through female branches, by marriage, successively into those of Lords Botreaux, Hungerford, and Huntingdon. It became vested in the present possessor in right of his wife, the daughter of the late William Langton, esq; who added, on that occasion, the family name of his lady to his own.
As we passed the handsome Gothic church of this agreeably-situated village, we looked (according to my accustomed practice) into the holy structure, in order to survey the memorials of the more noble dead, who here enjoy the last distinctions which rank and riches can command interment within the fane, and costly monuments spread upon its walls. On casting our eyes over these memorials of extinguished consequence, we were struck forcibly with the absurdity of Latin epitaphs, which occur here in a greater number than usual. Nothing, indeed, can be more inconsistent than enveloping those communications, which are intended for the information of the many, in a language understood only by the few. Commodore Trunnion's dying request has always struck me not only as admirably characteristic of this celebrated commander, but also as a good satire on the affectation of clothing epitaphs in execrable modern Latinity. "I do desire that it may not be engraved in the Greek or Latin lingos, and much less in the French, which I abominate, but in plain English, that when the angel comes to pipe all hands at the great day, he may know that I am a British man, and speak to me in my mother tongue." Little less absurd is the formulary, or set of phrases, with which these precious morceaux sometimes commence—such as Siste iterum, Viator; Audi, Viator—both occurring on a monument in the church of which we are speaking; apostrophes highly appropriate on the Roman sepulchral altars from which they were adopted, these being placed by the side of the common highways, and consequently seen by every viator, or traveller, who passed along them; but altogether incongruous in a place of worship, whither people go for other purposes than to read the puerilities of vanity, or nonsense of pedantry.
Newton church stands upon a bed of white lyas, in which are imbedded astonishing quantities of the casts or impressions of that singular fossil the Cornu Ammonis. These accompany our road through Corston and Keynsham, exhibiting themselves of all sizes, from the dimensions of a half-crown to a diameter of twenty inches, forming a striking feature in the geology of this curious county. When we see around us such abundant marks of the former presence of an animal in these parts, that is not now found in a live state throughout the known world, curiosity is awakened, and we naturally enquire the cause of their present disappearance. Was their race extinguished when the continents were raised from the bosom of the great deep? or do they still reside, far removed out of the reach of human vision, at the bottom of the present world of waters? or has the whole race been extinguished by the increasing power of their enemies? or is it the nature of some animals to transmigrate into other forms, and in time to become new genera? These questions instinctively occur to the mind, with such a phœnomenon before us; but it ought to humble the pride of human knowledge, to reflect: that, deep and extensive as we proudly boast it to be, it is unable to give a satisfactory answer to any one of them.
Dropping again into the great road, we passed through the village of Keynsham, seven miles from Bath, famous formerly for its abbey, and afterwards for its woollen manufactory; both of which have fulfilled the doom of all sublunary things, and are now no more. Its name is said to have been connected with a miracle, which, if allowed to be authentic, would at once settle all the doubts of the naturalist with respect to the frequent appearance of the Cornua Ammonis in these parts, by accounting very satisfactorily for their production. A Welch lady, by name Keyna, daughter of the king of Brecknockshire, lived in the year 490, and being very beautiful as well as rich, suitors poured in to her from all quarters of Cambria. A rash vow, however, which she had made of living and dying a virgin, precluded the possibility of her listening to any of them; and in order to avoid solicitations which became irksome to her, and to indulge her fondness for meditation and solitude, she secretly quitted the court of her father, crossed the Severn, and wandering into the neighbourhood of Keynsham, pitched upon the banks of the Avon at that place for the scene of her solitary devotions. It was necessary, however, for her to request permission of the chieftain of the district to reside there; which he (too well bred to refuse the request of a lady) immediately gave, lamenting at the same time, that the place was so infested with serpents, as to render a residence upon it extremely dangerous. To this the virgin replied, that she had no doubt of being able to destroy the whole race in a short time by her prayers, the efficacy of which had often produced equal wonders. She accordingly took possession of the place, and setting actively to work, exorcised in a short time the whole family of snakes, and like another Medusa, converted them into the serpent-stones which now strew the surface of the country in this neighbourhood.
In after times Keynsham became again, for some centuries, the theatre of lying miracles and gross superstition; William Earl of Gloucester founding an abbey of Black Canons in the year 1170, which, being enriched by several earls of that family, disgorged its wealth into the coffers of Henry VIII, in the year 1539. No vestige of it remains at present, but the fine broad flat meadow in which it stood, washed by the waters of the Avon, evinces that it enjoyed a pleasing and judicious situation. After the destruction of the conventual buildings, a noble house was erected on its scite by a branch of the Bridges family, into whose possession Keynsham came by grant from Edward VI, in 1452. Chiefly constructed with the materials of the abbey-church, where the bodies of several of the earls of Gloucester and other great men were interred, the manor-house, "built in the eclipse," and marked by sacrilege, did not endure so long as its massiveness or grandeur promised or deserved, but was taken down, and every vestige of it removed, in the year 1776. Many of the former possessors of the manor of Keynsham, after it had passed into the Bridges' family, have been buried in the noble Gothic church placed in the centre of the town; a most immaculate race, were we to believe their epitaphs, each individual exhibiting a pattern of every human excellence! But sepulchral adulation is so common, that I will not tire you with any examples of what every tomb-stone may afford you; the following epitaph has another claim to your attention, that of singular quaintness and conceit. It is only to be regretted, that the tomb does not cover the remains of a butcher, as the wit would then be compleat:
"Grim Death the eater meate doth give;
"By that which did me kill, I live.
"The grave devours me, but I shall
"Live to see its funeral;
"After some ages more are spent,
"The gluttonous grave shall keep a Lent."
To that striking feature in the natural history of Keynsham, mentioned above, the profusion of Cornua Ammonis which it produces, may be added two other curious circumstances attached to it; the quantities of that precious dying plant the woad, produced round the town, and a luxury which its inhabitants occasionally enjoy in the early season of the year, when the tide, whose influence is perceived as far up as Keynsham, comes accompanied thither by that delicious little fish called the elver.
On passing through Brislington, two miles from Bristol, we could not help smiling at an instance of modern credulity which an inscription on an ancient stone in the church-yard hands down to posterity. About thirty years ago, the active churchwardens of Brislington, in clearing the church-yard and its accompaniments, discovered on an old tomb the following notification of a remarkable instance of longevity: "1542. Thomas Newman, aged 153." With due regard to the preservation of so curious a fact, they had the tomb repaired and brushed up, and the following inscription added to the original one: "This stone was new faced in the year 1771, to perpetuate the great age of the deceased" It was not till their official authority to repair and beautify, pull down and remove, had ceased, that they understood the figure 1 had been prefixed by a wicked wit; and themselves duped by this false addition, which gave an antediluvian age to an honest man who died before he had reached his grand climacteric!
Frequent evidences of the wealth of Bristol occur on all sides as we approach that city, in numerous handsome mansions, the quiet retreats of its successful citizens, forming a rich picture of rural decoration; in which, however, it must be confessed, that expence, generally speaking, is more predominant than taste. But all elegance is confined to the outside of the city, for its entrances are bad, and its streets for the most part ill-built and inconvenient, and rendered, indeed, in some degree dangerous by the formidable sledges which are used here instead of carts; and which, pursuing a zig-zag course, threaten to crush or over- turn any lighter carriage they may chance to encounter in their devious way. Standing partly in the county of Somerset, and partly in that of Gloucester, Bristol belongs to neither of those shires, but is a county in itself, and has its own magistracy and peculiar jurisdiction.
The situation of this place is at once pleasant and salutary, a rising ground between the rivers Avon and Frome, up the northern acclivity of which the city has gradually crept, and was still extending its progress, when some failures among the principal adventurers suddenly checked its growth, and left a large proportion of the most elegant edifices that Bristol could boast, in a state of incompletion. Nor is it probable that these additions to the parent city will ever be finished; the trade of the place having been in a state of gentle decline for some time past, owing to the inconvenience of its rivers, and the oppressive nature of its port-dues. Capital, however, will always command a certain quantity of commerce; and the riches of Bristol (larger in proportion to the size of the place than those of any other town in the kingdom) wafts into its ports, in spite of these disadvantages, a share of the West-India trade. More than a moiety of this traffic has indeed been enticed away from hence to Liverpool, by the superior convenience of the river and docks there; but if Bristol have relinquished to her rival the palm of honourable commerce, she has thrown into her arms at the same time a trade that tarnished her own mercantile character as long as she continued the favourite of commerce, (the African slave-trade) and thus revenged herself amply for her loss, by blasting the honour of the spoiler. Under a decreasing population she still contains seventy thousand inhabitants; is ornamented with nineteen churches, as many dissenting chapels; and exhibits a numerous catalogue of manufactories, amongst which are twenty glass-houses; several copper and iron foundries; two large speculations for fabricating floor-cloth; a patent shot manufactory; leadworks; brass-mills; potteries; a patent rolling-machine for paper; and a curious patent manufactory, which has for its object the facilitating the rotation and lessening the friction of an axis, by means of auxiliary wheels.
In the walks of literature, science, and natural philosophy, also, Bristol has made and still makes a respectable figure, vindicating her character from that charge of Bæotian dullness, and indifference to every thing but objects of interest and money speculations, which it has been the practice to attach to it. The gigantic intellect and sublime genius of Coleridge, which were here first publicly developed, evince that this city is not ungenial to the cultivation and encouragement of the higher gifts of the mind; Chatterton, second only to his monodist[2] in the rare endowment of lofty fancy, here first saw the light, and tuned his infant pipe; Southey's muse here, also, poured forth those beautiful effusions which rank the author of the Joan of Arc amongst the first poets of the day; and the two Cottles, "Arcades ambo" having given, from their own press, works which would add to the fame of any poets of the day. The justly-celebrated philosopher and physician Dr. Beddoes has proved that the Bristolians do not want that laudable curiosity in their character, which is the only parent of real knowlege, when a proper stimulus is held out to excite it, by the useful scientific institutions he has been able to establish under their munificent encouragement. This distinguished medical author held some years since the professorship of chemistry at Oxford; but circumstances occurring which induced him to resign his situation, he withdrew from the university, and established himself at Clifton. This situation he was induced to make choice of, as a place of all others best calculated to afford opportunities of trying some new modes of practice in consumption, deduced from ingenious and profound speculation upon that important subject. The same spirit of scientific and philanthropic investigation which turned his attention to the means of ameliorating this dreadful scourge of youth, innocence, and beauty, led him also to the formation of an establishment in Bristol, (by private subscripcription) called the Pneumatic Institution, for the purpose of ascertaining the peculiar medicinal properties of some new chemical agents, as well as for the general extension of chemical physiology and philosophic medicine. Here his exertions were seconded by the liberality of the citizens, and his labours assisted by the co-operation of extraordinary talent, in the person of a young man, Mr. Humphry Davy, (a phoenomenon in chemical knowledge and its adjuncts) who is since removed to a wider scene for the display of his genius, the chair of the Royal Institution, in Albermarle-street, London. Under the auspices of these two great philosophic characters, the Pneumatic Institution has made considerable progress in the discovery of new facts for the enlargement and improvement of medical science. To it we are indebted for the very ingenious and able analysis and application of a new gas, by Mr. Davy, called the nitrous oxyd; which is found to produce effects upon the nervous system and organs of sense equally extraordinary and delightful. It excites a flow of the most pleasurable ideas and exhilarating emotions, unattended with consequent debility, languor, or depression; effects which lead to the hope that it may be capable of restoring decayed nervous energy, and of arresting its premature diminution. The institution has also afforded a field for extensive trials of a new and valuable remedy in consumptions, the Digitalis or Fox-Glove; and with a degree of success that establishes its powers as incomparably superior to any means hitherto employed in this cruel and depopulating disorder. These and other particulars connected with the cure and prevention of consumption are developed in two admirable essays on the disease by Dr. Beddoes; publications which no parent or person entrusted with the care of youth should be without. The spirit of laudable curiosity, and the diffusion of useful and ornamental knowledge, are kept alive and assisted at Bristol by another establishment of a more general nature than the one I have been describing to you; a public Library, founded originally by an individual, who bequeathed his collection of books for that purpose, since enlarged, and at present supported by regulations the most liberal and judicious. To become a member of this institution, it is necessary to pay five-guineas in the first instance, and one guinea annually; which gives a property in the books, transferable by sale, or devisable by will. Two large commodious rooms contain the collection, which, disdaining to be fettered by party prejudice, receives volumes written on every side, provided they have merit for their recommendation. The ante-room, or first apartment, is fitted up after the manner of the Bodleian and Manchester libraries, having presses for the books at right angles with the side of the room, and accommodations for the reader in the divisions between them; here are placed the large collection left by the original founder, none of which, are allowed to be removed from the library on any account. The inner room, equally large with the other, contains the books purchased by the monies arising from the entrance deposit and the annual subscriptions; these are arranged against the sides, and divided into two parts by a gallery. The books in this room may be taken out by the subscribers, and carried home; returnable, however, after a certain time. Two librarians are appointed to regulate the establishment; the chief of whom has a house appropriated to his use, and a salary of 70l. per annum.
Nor should I forget, whilst thus enumerating the good points of Bristol, to mention its many humane establishments for the comfort, solace, and relief of poverty and sickness. The celebrated Colston, a second Man of Ross, has immortalized the character of the Bristol merchant by some of the most noble institutions that a private individual ever had either ability or liberality to establish. His school, in particular, which gives education, board, clothing, and subsequent settlement in life, to the children which it receives under its protection, does honour to his understanding as well as his heart; and at once attaches to his character the two most glorious titles of—wise and good.
Another most interesting chanty, only to be found, I believe, in this place and Liverpool, adds to the respect we feel for the Bristol character. It is a School of Industry for the Indigent Blind, formed in 1793, and supported by the voluntary contributions of the public. Here those unfortunate beings, who, (the blessing of sight being denied to them) may apply to themselves the pathetic lament of Milton:
"For with the year
" Seasons return ; but not to us return
" Day, nor the sweet approach of ev'n or morn.,
" Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose,
" Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine?
" But clouds instead, and ever-during dark
" Surround us? from the cheerful ways of men
" Cut off, and, for the Book of Knowledge fair,
" Presented with an universal blank!"
Here they are taught to earn their livelihood by the labour of their hands; and by these means relieved from that most distressing of all convictions, the conviction of being a burthen on society. Their employments are of several sorts; that of the males is chiefly basket-making; of the females spinning, and making laces for women's stays. No sight can be more interesting or affecting than this little seminary, its scholars busied in their respective avocations. All is cheerfulness, animation, and industry; escaped from that melancholy mental vacuity, that necessary inaction which the privation of sight induces, these unfortunate objects feel a felicity in employment not to be conceived by those who are in possession of vision. The eagerness with which they receive instruction, and the inflexible patience and perseverance they display in endeavouring to profit by it, strongly mark those natural principles engrafted in man, to the love of action, and the desire of independence. The institution only extends to the instruction of the blind in the manner of living by their own exertions, but the expences even of this limited plan, and of articles necessary for their work, amount to 500l. per annum. You will be pleased, however, to see by the following statement of the annual profits of their labour since the first formation of the establishment, that they have been gradually increasing in the yearly amount, and promise soon to be sufficient of themselves for the support of the school, without the aid of voluntary contributions:
| £ | s. | d. | |
| First Year | 18 | 3 | 6½ |
| Second Year | 82 | 17 | 11 |
| Third Year | 125 | 7 | 10½ |
| Fourth Year | 154 | 15 | 6 |
| Fifth Year | 188 | 12 | 7 |
| Sixth Year | 262 | 9 | 6¼ |
Last Year 391l. 10s.
Almost as soon as we have fairly quitted Bristol, and stretched beyond the heavy atmosphere of black smoke which generally involves it, we enter upon one of the richest spots of English ground—the Vale of Glocester watered by the Severn, and spreading before us a carpet of unbounded fertility, for twenty miles in length. Centuries back, before the bounty of nature had been aided here by judicious agriculture, the fertility of Glocester Vale was the theme of the historian's praise, and the subject of the poet's encomium. The honest and sensible William of Malmsbury tells us, that it produced in great abundance fruits and grain, the joint effects of its fine soil, and the labour of its hinds; who were stimulated to work, by having their exertions rewarded with a produce of one hundred fold. "In this favoured spot you may behold," says he, "the public highways shaded and adorned with trees loaded with fruit, not placed there by the hand of man, but by the generosity of nature. The earth spontaneously brings forth her gifts, fruits of the richest taste and brightest beauty; which, almost imperishable, may be preserved from the time of their being taken in, till the season of gathering again returns. Grapes, famous for their flavour, are here produced in quantities, and manufactured into wines of the highest relish, equally luscious with those of France. Numerous towns overspread the vale, which is further enriched with populous villages, and costly places of public worship." Drayton, too, in his Polyolbion, personifying this fertile tract of country, makes it boast an excellence, which it may assert with truth and justice:
" I which am the queene
" Of all the British vales, and so have ever been
" Since Goner's giant brood inhabited this isle,
" And that of all the rest myself may so enstile."
Divided, for the most part, into small farms, this happy tract of country has hitherto been preserved, in some measure, from that unnatural rise in the prices of the articles of life which those districts labour under, where, the land being thrown into a few hands, combination is easy, and the markets are at the mercy of a junto of overgrown farmers, whose only object is to fill their coffers at the expence of the country around them. Cheese, the boasted produce of the Vale, still sells as low as 43, 44, and 45s. per cwt.; and butter, equally excellent in its kind, at 10d. 11d. and 1s. per lb.
Little arable husbandry is to be seen as we pass through this extensive flat; and where it does occur, the bean seems to be the favourite seed of the husbandman; which is here dibbled or set by hand in rows, twelve inches distant from each other, and hoed and cleaned with a vigilance and care that place the Glocestershire farmers high on the list of admirable agriculturists. Best calculated for dairy farming, the land of this county for many miles is chiefly applied to this purpose; and the profits which accrue from it, may be best collected from the prodigious quantity of cheese manufactured in it, which is said to amount to between seven and eight thousand tons annually.
The advantages of this part of Glocestershire are greatly increased by the canal, which crosses the road at right angles near the eighth mile-stone from Glocester, and connects the Severn with the interior of the county; a communication that enables the manufacturers and dyers of the clothing country to import at a trifling expence the large quantities of coals consumed in their works, as well as to convey their cloths at a reasonable rate to the shore of the Severn, to be shipped for the foreign market. Begun forty years ago, when the advantages resulting from speculations of this nature were not so well ascertained as at present, the Stroud canal only proceeded a few miles towards the Severn, the place of its destination, and was then relinquished by the projectors, under the idea of its being a scheme, that, if persisted in, could turn to no profitable account. Fifteen years of neglect elapsed, when the attention of the undertakers being again roused by the prodigious success and advantage which attended the canal speculations in Lancashire, Staffordshire, and the northern counties of the kingdom, they determined to compleat their work; and proceeded seriously to its execution in the year 1775, under the sanction of an aft of parliament obtained for that purpose. In four years the cut was finished and opened, having been led to the point of its termination in so direct a line, part of the way, (from Walbridge to Framilode, about ten miles) as to be nearer by two miles than the turnpike-road. The result has answered the most sanguine expectations of the proprietors, as well as produced incalculable convenience to the clothing country through which it ramifies by different branches. At the point where it reaches the Glocester turnpike, Mr. Purnel, of Dursley, has established a large mill for the manufacture of iron wire.
But unqualified success is by no means the necessary consequence of canal speculations; various circumstances must combine to render them advantageous to the projectors, and many instances occur of immense sums having been lavished in schemes of this kind, without producing the expected lucrative return. An example of such a disappointment occurred to us when we came within two miles of Glocester, where the Stone canal, running from that city, approaches the road, and accompanies it in a parallel direction for some distance. The intention was to lead this cut through Berkley into the Severn, and a large sum was instantly subscribed for that purpose; but after proceeding four miles, the fund being exhausted, the sharers perceived too late, that they had over-rated the probable profits of the scheme; and considering the first loss as the best, they refused to involve themselves deeper by a further advance, and relinquished the prosecution of the work. The only purpose, therefore, to which the cut is now applied is the carriage of coal from Glocester to the parishes bordering upon its banks.
From this point we first caught a view of the city of Glocester, or rather of its rich ecclesiastical architecture, the summits of which shoot out from the surrounding wood, and present a beautiful and magnificent groupe of towers and spires; whilst the rising hills to the right (amongst which that of Robin-Hood is most conspicuous) cultivated to their tops, present a scene of uncommon splendour and variety. Under the shelter of these elevations Glocester is situated in the long extended vale called by its name, and washed by the majestic Severn, who rolls his waters to the left of the city. Founded originally by the Romans, (for the boasted British town upon its scite consisted only of a few wattled cottages) it presents an example of those sensible and judicious principles upon which all the military towns of this sagacious people were constructed. The Quadrivium, or center of the parallelogram which the walls described, where the four principal streets diverged towards the cardinal points, was the highest ground of the inclosed area, from whence all the other parts of the city fell by a regular and gentle descent; a plan at once calculated to produce salubrity and pleasantness. The form and extent of the Roman Glevum (for thus the station was called) may still be plainly distinguished; for notwithstanding the large additions of suburbs in after-ages, its ancient walls have invariably continued to mark the limits of the city.
The strength of Glocester has always rendered it an object of importance to partizans in the different tumultuous scenes which civil convulsion has excited in this country; but at no period does its military history make so conspicuous and memorable a figure, as during the struggles in the 17th century, between monarchy and republicanism. The successful resistance which it made against the attempts of the royal forces, who were frequently foiled before its walls, has been said to be the commencement of that train of misfortunes which followed the unhappy Charles with little interruption from the year 1643, and were only closed by his untimely death; and a parliamentarian orator of the time declared, that "the standing out of this place made it the vertical point in the civil war; for from that time the enemies more and more declined." Nothing, indeed, can evince the supineness and languor with which the royal cause was supported on this occasion, so much as the comparative advantages which the besiegers possessed over the citizens, and the miserable termination of their attempt upon the place—an army of thirty thousand men well appointed, and commanded by the king in person and the most celebrated of his generals, opposed to a garrison of fifteen hundred men, ill-conditioned, and worse supplied, which only possessed three barrels of gunpowder at the time of its relief; loitering five and twenty days before the walls of the city, losing one thousand men in its ditches, and at last retreating from the place in the night before a body of forces not equal to a third of its own number. Two or three other attempts were afterwards made to the same effect:, and with similar success, by the king's troops; and when force would not avail, the fidelity of its garrison was attempted to be shaken by bribery; but the plan being frustrated, by its discovery to the governor, all further endeavours to become possessed of the place were dropped by the royal party, and Glocester continued steady to the Commonwealth till the period of the Restoration.
The destruction of its suburbs during the troubles just mentioned had reduced Glocester to its original dimensions, as they had been marked out by the Romans; but as soon as the return of regular government and public order restored public confidence and the spirit of speculation, new buildings arose upon the scite of those which had been overturned, and the environs of the town gradually grew to the extent and beauty which they now exhibit. Including these in the calculation, the population of die city at present is estimated at eight thousand souls.
A languid manufactory of pins gives some little degree of life to the trade of Glocester, which, however, is only the shadow of what it was previously to its experiencing the paralyzing effects of war. Before our present contests, the markets of France, Spain, and Portugal, kept its pin-merchants in active employ, and poured a considerable quantity of money into the city; but the halcyon season is over, and four-fifths of the workmen formerly employed in this branch of business have long since been obliged to turn to other methods of labour for a subsistence.
The two most remarkable public edifices which arrest a stranger's attention here, are the cathedral and the gaol; the former a fine specimen of ancient architecture, the latter a noble instance of modern philanthropy. Nothing can exceed the beautiful lightness of the tower of the cathedral, relieved by open worked pinnacles at each corner; nor is a grander example of the fine Saxon style (as it is called) to be found, than in the nave of the building. These members are the most ancient of the structure, the one raised by abbot Henry Foliot in 1237, the other by abbot Serlo one hundred and fifty years before. Built by Norman architects, the form of the edifice is similar to that generally adopted by this people—a cross, consisting of a nave, two side-ailes, a transept, and choir, with a Lady's chapel afterwards added; a form suggested by that of the engine of torture on which the salvation of mankind was effected. Its length east and west is four hundred and twenty feet; north and south, one hundred and forty-four feet; the breadth of the body, eighty-four feet; the height of the choir, eighty -four feet; and that of the tower, two hundred and twenty-two feet. Eight enormous Saxon pillars on each side, upwards of twenty-one feet in circumference, separate the nave from the side-ailes. The most remarkable features of the structure are the grand East Window, said to be the largest in the kingdom; the Lady's Chapel, of extraordinary dimensions; the beautifully ramified Roof of the Choir; and the singular Whispering-Gallery, which stretches from one side of this part of the cathedral to the other, at the eastern end. Its form is a semi-octagon, and its length seventy-five feet; the phænomenon which we were directed to remark here, is the circulation of a whisper in a clear and distinct manner, delivered by a person placed at one end of the passage, and received by the ear of one placed at the other extremity. This effect is the more difficult to be accounted for, as the gallery-contains several openings in it, by which it should seem the volume of sound would be interrupted or dissipated. General opinion, however, attributes it to the repercussion produced by the angles which the form of the gallery occasions in its interior. Our ancestors observed the effect without troubling themselves to ascertain the cause, and applied it to the purposes of religious instruction, by inscribing the following lines upon the wall:
" Doubt not but God, who sits on high,
" When a dead wall thus cunningly
" Conveys soft whispers to the ear."
The cathedral contains several curious ancient monuments, surmounted by the effigies of the departed great; amongst the rest are, a crowned figure representing Osric king of the Huicii, with an inscription explaining the reason of his bones finding a resting-place in this hallowed spot: "Osricus Rex primus fundator hujus Monasterii, 681."—Robert, the unfortunate eldest son of William the Conqueror. Richard, his youngest son. Aldred, the builder of the first abbey church of Glocester, which was afterwards destroyed.—Parker, the last abbot of the monastery.—The alabaster effigy of Edward the Second, under a very handsome canopy of free-stone. A beautiful tomb and figure in alabaster of abbot Scabroke; and another of the great Humphry Bohun Earl of Hereford, who died 1367, and his lady. The cloisters form a large square of one hundred and fifty feet every way, of elegant architecture, and in the most perfect: preservation; the beauties of which are secured to posterity by an admirable little engraving published by Mr. Bonnor of Glocester, amongst others of different parts of the cathedral, and buildings connected with it.
Our visit to the gaol produced a mingled emotion of pity and gratification; commiseration for those whom the laws of society render it necessary to punish or to deprive of the inestimable blessing of personal liberty; and pleasure in observing the humane and judicious regulations adopted to rob the melancholy interval between commitment and trial of unnecessary rigors, and to render confinement the parent of industry and the nurse of reflection. Built a few years since on a plan suggested by the venerable philanthropist the late Mr. Howard, Glocester gaol embraces every accommodation and convenience of building, and every internal arrangement that sagacity united with humanity could contrive for the comfort and improvement of its unhappy inmates. The admirable disposition of the whole strikes the mind on the first glance; and an attention to its detail to the different parts of crime confirms the impression which it has received. Here we observe a due regard to the gradations of vice, in the manner of grouping the prisoners; nor are the more venial offenders at once taught to bid adieu to all remaining sense of shame by being mingled with villains of the deepest dye. One division of the interior part receives felons of the first class, or most atrocious description; another is appropriated to those of the second class, or the less hardened sons of enormity; a third confines the debtors; and a fourth is occupied by the penitentiaries, or those who are about to expiate their offences by death.
It was with pleasure we observed, that the unfortunate persons on the crown side were saved from the horrors of that gloomy vacuity of mind which complete inaction produces in the ignorant and unlettered, or prevented from that still more dangerous activity which too often pervades a community of rogues, by their all being occupied in some little manufactory or useful employment; thus making some amends to society for their former idleness or violences, and at the same time acquiring habits of industry that may protect them from temptations to plunder in future, should they be again turned loose among their fellow-citizens.
We could not, however, read the contents of the calendar without shuddering, which informed, us there were confined in the gaol no less than two hundred and six prisoners, one hundred and forty of whom were felons; a larger number than had ever been known to be imprisoned there before. In order to preserve cleanliness and health, each prisoner has his own separate apartment, containing an iron bedstead, a small oaken box, and other necessaries; and to prevent disorderly conduct amongst this large society, small dark cells are provided for the refractory, who there do penance in solitary confinement for a certain number of hours, according to their offences.
Traits of character, you know, occur as frequently in a gaol as on the outside of the walls; and V and myself could not help remarking a very singular one, which the little apartment of one of the debtors afforded. It belonged to a noted horse-jockey, who at the time was walking in the prison-yard. Peeping into it, we observed four volumes lying upon the window-seat; "Oh!" said V, " here is a philosophical prisoner; probably one who employs the hours of confinement in edifying reading, or serious contemplation;" when, opening one of the books, we perceived it was the "Racing Calendar," and lifting up the lid of the box, discovered in it two pair of nicely-blacked boots, and a polished pair of spurs. So true is it that no situation is able to destroy the ruling passion; for, as Horace has justly observed:
" Naturam expellas Furca, tamen usque recurrct."
The vast sum of forty thousand pounds was swallowed up in the erection of Glocester gaol; but I will venture to assert, that on attentively considering its arrangement and advantages, no rational or humane man will say the money has been injudiciously expended. Before we quitted Glocester, we paid a visit to its quay, to which vessels of one hundred tons may be navigated. The business of this port is subject to the management and supervision of a customer and comptroller, a searcher, surveyor, and two boatmen; a privilege conferred on the city by Queen Elizabeth, in the twenty-second year of her reign.
A similar rich flat to that which we had before passed through in our way to Glocester, continued to accompany us as we proceeded towards Tewksbury; offering the additional beauty of extensive orchards, which breathed their odours through the air, and enriched the scene with a widely-extended sheet of beautiful blossom. As we approached Tewksbury, our curiosity was naturally excited with respect to the scene of a battle which had proved fatal to the fortunes of the Lancastrian party, and fixed the doom of the unfortunate Henry VIth. On enquiry we found it in a field or meadow, called appropriately Bloody Meadow, about a quarter of a mile to the westward of the church. Here the undaunted Margaret exerted herself for the last time in behalf of her fallen husband, and fought one of the most bloody battles which the English annals record. The invincible spirit of this heroine, who could bear up against the shocks of disaster and the reiterated blows of misfortune, is well depicted in the address which Shakespeare has made her deliver to her troops previously to this decisive engagement; where, after urging every motive to animate and encourage that greatness of mind could suggest, she concludes with a magnanimous reflection, that ever actuated her own conduct, in the various and unparallelled trials to which her chequered fortunes had exposed her—
" Why, courage, then! what cannot be avoided,
" Twere childish weakness to lament or fear."
Seconded by the gallantry of her son, the ardour of Edmund Beaufort Duke of Somerset, who commanded the van division, and the devoted attachment of a considerable army, Margaret might have been hailed the victor of the day, had there been as much knowledge and judgment as courage and fervour in her generals; but the inexperience of the Prince, and the impetuosity of the Duke, threw the advantage of the battle into the scale of the more wary Edward and his abler chieftains. The cunning Glocester was directed to entice Somerset from his strong position, by the appearance of a flight. The Duke instantly fell into the snare, and rushing forward from his intrenchments in loose array, exposed his line to the attack of Glocester, who immediately forming his troops into a firm battalion, faced about, returned to the charge, and penetrated with ease the open files of his incautious adversaries, pursuing them into the very intrenchments with horrible slaughter. Thrown completely off his guard by this unexpected artifice, Somerset became mad with passion, and riding furiously up to the Lord Wenlock, (second to him in command) who had not advanced to the support of his line, he cleft him to the earth with a stroke of his battle-axe. The troops, astonished at this act of rashness, gave way on every side; the rout became general; three thousand Lancastrians were cut to pieces; and the Queen and her son taken prisoners. Somerset himself escaped the carnage, and, accompanied by a party of knights and gentlemen, cut his way through the enemy, and retired into the abbey-church. Protected by the sanctity of the place, they flattered themselves they should escape destruction, and be admitted to terms; but the passions which are called out in civil broils know no distinction of place or ties; they were forcibly torn from the asylum, and led to immediate execution. Prince Edward was reserved to be murdered in cold blood; Shakespeare, you know, with the truth of the historian, has handed down to us the high-spirited language which induced his assassination:
| "K. Edw. | Bring forth the gallant, let us hear him speak. What? can so young a thorn begin to prick? Edward,what satisfaction canst thou make, For bearing arms, for stirring up my subjects, And all the trouble thou hast turn'd me to? |
| Prince. | Speak like a subject, proud ambitious York. Suppose that I am now my father's mouth, Resign thy chair, and where I stand, kneel thou, |
| Queen. | Ah, that thy father had been so resolv'd! |
| Glo. | That you might still have worn the petticoat, And ne'er have stol'n the breech from Lancaster. |
| Prince. | Let Æsop fable in a winter's night; His currish riddles sort not with this place. |
| Glo. | By Heaven, brat, I'll plague ye for that word. |
| Queen. | Aye, thou wast born to be a plague to men. |
| Glo. | For God's sake take away this captive scold. |
| Prince. | Nay, takeaway this scolding crook-back, rather. |
| K. Ed. | Peace, wilful boy, or I will charm your tongue. |
| Clar. | Untutor'd lad, thou art too malapert. |
| Prince. | I know my duty ; you are all undutiful: Lascivious Edward, and thou perjur'd George, And thou misshapen Dick, I tell ye all I am your better, traitors as ye are. And thou usurp'st my father's right and mine. |
| K. Edw. | Take that, thou likeness of this railer here.
[Edw. Stabs him.
|
| Glo. | Sprawl'st thou ? Take that, to end thy agony.
[Rich, stabs him.
|
| Clar. | And there's for twitting me with perjury."
[Clar. stabs him.
|
It is worth remarking, that tradition preserves the recollection of the spot where this inhuman tragedy was acted; an house on the north side of the Tolsey. Margaret, after the loss of the day, had concealed herself in a waggon on the field of battle; but being discovered in nearly an insensible state, she was taken prisoner, and dispatched to the Tower; whence, after continuing there four years, the King of France ransomed her for fifty thousand crowns.
Most of the warriors who perished in this memorable conflict, or fell under the axe of the executioner after it, were buried in the adjoining church; a magnificent ancient structure which presents itself very advantageously to the eye, as we approach the town, the road taking a circuitous course in order to humour the flexure of a river. This edifice is almost the only remain of the mitred monastery of Tewksbury, whose lord-abbot sat in the House of Peers till its dissolution in the thirty-first year of Henry VIII. and conveys a grand idea of the former extent and splendour of this famous abbey. Its plan is cruciform, three hundred feet long; the transepts one hundred and twenty feet from north to south; and the body seventy feet in breadth. A massive square tower rises from the centre of the structure, to the height of one hundred and thirty-two feet, of pure Anglo-Norman architecture, (commonly called the Saxon style) ornamented with three tiers of small blind arches; the arches of each range intersecting one another, as is observable in the works of that age. The body of the church and part of the chancel are supported by eighteen pillars, nine on each side, plain and round, measuring in girth twenty-one feet. Above the crown of the semicircular arches which these pillars support, runs a triforium, or passage cut through the wall, which is surmounted by a range of Gothic arches, as they are generally called, though the style appears to be nothing more than a variety of the Anglo-Norman arch, suggested by the form which was produced by these semicircles interlacing each other. We admired the neatness and taste with which the choir is fitted up, wherein parochial service is performed. Two thousand pounds were expended in the work in 1796. A beautiful effect is produced in this member of the fabric by the hexagonal termination to the cast; at which end five fine windows of richly-painted glass throw "a dim religious light" over the choir, that fills the mind with the most solemn impressions. The exquisite ramifications of the roof here, and the tracery of the windows, sufficiently indicate a later period of erection.
I have before observed to you, that several of the gallant adherents of the unfortunate Henry and Margaret, who fell in the battle of Tewksbury, were buried within its church. Amongst them was their high-spirited son Prince Edward, over whose dust, in the centre of the choir, is the following inscription on a brass plate, commemorative of his melancholy fate:
"Ni tota pereat Mcmoria EDWARDI PMNCIPIS WALLIÆ, post prœlium memorabile in vicinis arvis depugnatum crudeliter occisi; hanc tabulam honorariam deponi curavit pietas Tewkcsburiensis, Anno Domini mdccxcvi."
A rich example of florid Gothic was shewn to us on the north side of the chancel; a small chapel, founded by Isabella Le De Spencer Countess of Warwick, to the Virgin Mary; singular in its plan, and curious in its ornaments, formerly supported by six marble pillars, but at present sadly dilapidated. An inscription round the top of it mentions the date of the Countess's death, St. John's-day, A. D. 1439. On the same side, within the rails of the altar, a still more beautiful piece of masonry occurs; a large table monument of free-stone, surmounted by an extraordinarily fine piece of tabernacle work, consisting of four tiers of arches, gradually diminishing to. one at the top, sculptured in the finest style of the filagree Gothic. Upon the monument rest the effigies of George Duke of Clarence, and Isabella his Duchess, in alabaster. Near this spot repose the remains of the great Norman Baron Robert Fitz-Hamond, the founder of the monastery; they are covered by a flat stone, formerly ornamented with brass effigies, of which sacrilege has long since despoiled it. On the south side of the chancel, near the altar, is a small chapel, dedicated to the Holy Trinity, and erected by Cecily Duchess of Warwick, to the memory of her husband; on the roof of which is the effigy of Richard Neville Earl of Warwick, in armour, large as life, on his knees, with clasped hands, and his person turned towards the altar. In the passage at the back of the altar, made for the purpose of admitting the solemn processions which the Romish ritual enjoyed on particular days, are several very ancient monuments of abbots of Tewksbury; and a beautiful free-stone tabernacle of Lord O'Brien, decorated with the scutcheons of his arms. Upon the whole, indeed, taking into account the external architecture of this edifice and the rich examples of masonry within it, we agreed that it was the finest parochial church we had ever seen; and only lamented that its beauties had never met the protection of taste till within these six years.
Tewksbury enjoys a situation similar to that of Glocester. A wide and flat extent of productive meadow, pasture, and arable land, stretches round it on all sides, intersected by four rivers, which nearly insulate the town. Of these the Severn is the chief, who follows the curvature of a meadow to the west of the town; but the little classical Avon, more affectionate, washes its walls, and admits in its channel vessels of seventy tons burthen. Its waters, together with those of the Swilyate, which are united to them, lose themselves in the Severn a small distance below the town. An active cotton-stocking manufactory finds employment for a great portion of the lower order of females here, who are animated to industry by the considerable profits which reward their exertions. Those who weave the plain stocking, make from 9s. to 12s. per week; and the manufacturers of the striped goods from 21s. to 25s. To the honour of the working classes of the fair sex, it must be admitted, that if their earnings do not amount to so large a sum as those of the male manufacturer, yet their exemplary management of them renders the pittance of more use to their families than the greater gains of the husband; and hence it is observable, that in all places (as at Tewksbury) where the women are actively and lucratively employed, there is more comfort, decency, and cleanliness, in the mansions of the working order, than can be found in those manufacturing towns, where are opportunities of larger earnings, but all on the side of the men:—the remark was made by V, who with the gallantry of a foreigner added, that the sex had as yet neither found their level nor their value in this country. The town is a corporate one, and returns two members to parliament, under a charter granted by James II. which confirms and extends the privileges of its more ancient deed of incorporation, and vests the elective franchise in the freeholders and freemen of the body corporate, which amounts to nearly six hundred, a number that almost renders Tewksbury an open borough. Its name is said to be a corruption of Dodo, the founder of the first monastery here; an etymology which puts us in mind of the French wit's derivation of lacquey, or the English one's of pipkin.
Many vestiges of antiquity are scattered through the town of Tewksbury; amongst the rest a compleat specimen of the domestic architecture of the time of Henry VIII. and Elizabeth, usually called the Brick-nog building, with projecting stones and pyramidal roof. Its population amounts to 4199 persons. An admirable House of Industry, built under an act passed in 1792, upon a good plan, and subject to wise regulations, gives comfort and finds employment for that unhappy class of society, the impotent and unprotected poor; and at the same time considerably lessens those assessments for their support which are so oppressive at other places.
On quitting Tewksbury, the champain country through which we had hitherto pursued our journey, swells into a hill, from whose summit we obtained a fine view to the left of the Malvern hills, which, starting suddenly out of a flat surface, carry their proud crest to a great height above the horizon for some miles, and then, dropping as rapidly as they rose, unite again with the level country. These summits form a line of incomparable beauty and variety; whilst their broad declivity to the east is overspread with the town of Malvern- Wells, seen from afar, and their roots are lost to the eye by the intervention of luxuriant woods. On each side of us we saw the pear, thickly powdered with its chaste blossom, and growing to an enormous size, promising an abundant supply of fruit for the manufacture of that delicious perry, whose praises would form a worthy subject, for the muse of a second Phillips. Far and wide also, on every side, the cherry is cultivated to that extent as to overwhelm completely the Worcester and neighbouring markets in the season with its produce.
As we proceeded, our interesting companions, the Malvern hills, assumed different situations in relation to us; sometimes bounding our view to the left, and at others lifting themselves in front, according as our road varied its direction; but on approaching the beautiful village of Severn-Stoke, and mounting to the head of another lofty rise of ground, we caught the extremity of their elevation, and threw our eye beyond them into the recesses of Worcestershire, over a magnificent sweep of country, bounded only by the distant heights of Shropshire. The imposition of a double toll at the turnpike-gate on entering Worcester from Tewksbury is recompensed in the improvement lately made in the city at this quarter, by which the traveller escapes the dangers of a narrow street and a sharp turning, and is led into the heart of Worcester through the Close, under the walls of its venerable cathedral.
We could not but allow that Worcester well deserved the praise of elegance which has been bestowed upon it; for no city has a greater appearance of comfort and neatness, owing to its uncommonly-large proportion of good private houses. Its chief street in particular, chequered with shops and handsome buildings, is striking even to the eye that has been accustomed to contemplate the architectural wonders of Bath. Amongst the shops which ornament the High-street, that of Messrs. Flight and Bar particularly engaged our attention, by the rich exhibition it affords of articles from their elegant manufactory; where that exquisite porcelain is made, generally known by the name of Worcester china, inferior to the French only in lightness and transparency. The civility of the proprietors allowed us not only to survey, at our leisure, the process which produces this ware, but also submitted to our inspection every article of any rarity or value which this large collection contains. Amongst others, we were presented with some coffee-cups, made by the order of the Grand Seignor, and intended to furnish a golden stand enriched with diamonds. Each contains about a third as much as a common tea-cup could hold, and its price is ten guineas; but the largeness of the sum dwindled, in our estimation, into nothing, when we observed the surpassing beauty of the paintings which cover their sides, and represent the brilliant success of Lord Nelson at the Nile, in different points of view. The set will consist of forty-six of these beautiful specimens of British china manufacture. The works, conveniently situated, close to the Severn, which flows by the city, are remarkable for their neatness and convenience; and display the whole process of making porcelain, from grinding the various articles to compose the clay used for the purpose, to packing the finished pieces for the market. Interesting as this manufactory is, you will excuse me forgiving you its detail:—The mixture above-mentioned consists of fifteen articles, the chief of which are, a white granite, from Cornwall, and a steatite or soap-stone, from Penzance in the same county, the whole quarry of which belongs to Mr. Flight, who employs his own men there. These articles being first ground separately are afterwards mixed, and then calcined; the product of this process is a quantity of small blue and white lumps, which being thrown into a mill, and ground with soft water, a liquid of the consistence of thick cream is produced, perfectly white. This is passed through a lawn sieve, and then poured into vats, heated by outside flues in order to consolidate; the degree of heat applied to them being kept under the boiling temperature. The water gradually evaporating by these means from the contents of the vats, an hard clay remains in the room of the liquid, which is brought into a stone apartment to be tempered, that is, wetted with water, beaten with a wooden mallet, and trodden by a man with his bare feet. The material is now fit for the thrower, who throws a mass of it upon his lathe, an horizontal wheel, set in motion by a boy, (turning a vertical one) and whirled round with a degree of swiftness, either greater or less, as the thrower sees occasion. To this a guage is attached, to ascertain exactly the dimensions of the article. The hands of the 'thrower being kept steady, the rotatory motion of the wheel being quick, and the clay soft but tenacious, the eye is agreeably surprized with the instantaneous creation of beautiful forms out of a shapeless mass of clay, which every moment change their appearance according to the motion of the finger and thumbs of the workman; now rising into a long cylinder, again sinking immediately, and approaching the rotundity of a sphere, and at length settling into the elegant shape of an ancient vase, a modern mug, or a fashionable tea-pot. The articles thus prepared are then dried upon flues to consolidate their texture, and render them fit for the vertical lathe of the turner. Placed upon this machine, they are reduced to their proper thickness and exact, form; and if their pattern require handles or spouts, they are here fitted with them by a work-man called the handler. From this workshop they are carried into the kiln-house to be burned, and placed in saggars, or circular pans, made of Staffordshire crucible clay, open at the top, and about eight inches deep, the flat bottoms of which are strewed with calcined flint, to prevent the adhesion of the articles to them. The kiln usually holds about one thousand five hundred of these saggars, and frequently from twenty-five to thirty thousand pieces of ware. Here they continue thirty-seven hours, exposed to such a violent heat as to render them red-hot, but carefully protected from flame. On coming out they are said to be in the biscuit state, that is, having the appearance of an unglazed tobacco-pipe. If any blue be in the pattern of the articles, the figures are traced upon them at this time with a hair pencil, dipped in a mixture of a purple colour; and being suffered to dry, they are then immersed in a red liquid, called the glaze, of the consistence of cream, chiefly composed of white lead and ground flint. This adheres to every part of the articles, which are placed to dry in a room of a certain temperature, from whence they come out with a ground of a pale pink colour, and the pattern of a dingy purple. Being perfectly dry, they are given to the trimmer, who smooths the surface of the article, and rubs off any little inequalities of the glaze; the most unwholesome part of the whole process, as he frequently inspires particles of the white lead, &c. to the great detriment of his stomach and lungs; which, indeed, he is obliged to relieve by frequent emetics. The articles are next placed in the glaze kiln, and remain there twenty-eight hours exposed to the fire; which being extinguished, the whole are suffered gradually to cool, and then taken out, when they exhibit a wonderful metamorphosis, effected by the chemical agency of fire. A vitrification having taken place on their surface, a beautiful glossy covering discovers itself within and without, in the room of the dull unpolished appearance they before had; and the figures of purple are converted into a vivid and beautiful blue. After passing through the sorting-room, they are given to the painters, who with colours properly and nicely prepared (for the hues are all changed by a subsequent firing) trace those beautiful patterns, figures, and landscapes, upon them, which almost rival the force and effect of the canvas. Again they are placed in the kiln, in order to fix the colours, and remain there for six hours. This compleats the process of such articles as have no gold in their pattern; but those which are ornamented with this superb addition, undergo another burning after the enamel is laid on. They are also carried afterwards into the burnishing shop, where this final decoration is given them by a number of women, who soon change the dull surface of the gold into a most brilliant appearance, by rubbing the gilt part of the pattern with little instruments pointed with blood-stones and other polishing substances. They are now ready to be introduced into the world, and are sent forth, to gratify vanity, decorate splendour, or accommodate luxury; to ornament the tea-table of high-life, the dressing-room of fashion, and the boards of the great; for the Worcester manufactory soars above the humbler articles in use amongst the happier tribes of common life. It would surprize a modern fine lady, were I to tell her, that the cup from which she sips her tea had been through the hands of at least twenty-three dirty workmen, before it met her lips ; but such is the fat, for if we retrace the process, we shall find the following croud employed for the purpose: the man who grinds the articles for the composition; the man that mills them; the person that calcines them; the grinder of the lumps; the sifter; theattender on the vats; the temperer; the thrower; the drier; the turner; the spout-maker, who forms the spouts and handles; the handler, who puts them on; the biscuit fire-man; the blue painter; the dipper, who immerses them in the glaze; the trimmer, who clears them from irregularities in the glazing; the gloss fire-man; the sorter; the painter; the colour fire-man; the gold enameller; the enamel fire-man; the burnisher.—It is to be observed, that many articles which could not be conveniently thrown, such as tureens, plates, and dishes, are made on moulds of plaister of Paris, and when dry are given to the turner, as above-mentioned. The earnings of the workmen in this manufactory, who are all paid by the piece, are very considerable; throwers and turners making about 25s. per week; dippers and glazers, 21s.; and painters from 30s. to two guineas. Pennington is the , inimitable artist who produces all those exquisite specimens of the perfection of the pencil, which the more expensive articles display.
Our visit to the cathedral was extremely interesting, from the beauty and singularity of its architecture, and from the monuments of some celebrated characters which it contains. Of this edifice, the great nave and side-ailes present a beautiful mixture of the Anglo-Norman and Gothic stiles; the two western arches, of the former—the remaining seven, (for the body of the church has nine) of the latter architecture; the capitals of the pillars supporting them are sculptured into the nicest fillagree-work, but each differing from the other in its pattern. Nothing can be more simple, elegant, and august, than the choir; at the same time its clustered columnar pillars, the open-worked mouldings of its arches, and its beautiful triforium, throw an inexpressible lightness over the whole. It is further adorned with a pulpit, whose front and body are stone, and back of curious wood-work; and several turn-up seats, the reverse of which are carved with grotesque and indecent figures—satyrical representations, emblematical of the mendicant orders of friars, with whom the lazy sons of the convent were always at open war.
The fane is also enriched with the curious roofed chapel of Prince Arthur, the eldest son of Henry VII.; and is marked by a singular architectural anomaly, which occurs in the third pillar on the north of the choir. This is constructed after one of the classical orders, but (strange proof of the workmen's ignorance) the plan is inverted; the upper members being next the ground! At the foot of the altar is the tomb of King John, said by Mr. Gough, whose splendid " Sepulchral Monuments" are a sufficient testimony of his knowledge in these matters, to be the oldest royal monument in the kingdom. On opening the tomb some time since, the body of the deceased monarch was discovered, contained in a cista or chest, enveloped in a robe, and having a quilted cap upon its head.
Amongst many other monuments, we considered the following as particularly worth remark:—That of Judge Lyttelton, who died 1481; the learned father of the law, as he is frequently termed by the earlier English historians. He was appointed one of the Judges of the Common-Pleas by Edward IV. in 1464, and afterwards created Knight of the Bath. Whilst on the bench, he published his " Tenures;" a work pronounced by his commentator Sir Edward Coke, to be the ornament of the common law, and the most perfect, volume ever written in any human science. His will, which is printed in Collins's Peerage, will afford you a curious specimen of the preciseness of this great man's character; being replete with circumstantial and minute bequests of trifles and trumpery, that would be now thrown into the chest of the surviving valet.—The tomb of Sir Thomas Lyttelfon, bart. the representative of Worcestershire in five successive parliaments, during the reigns of James and Charles I. To the last monarch his attachment was so great and well-tried, that on the breaking out of the civil wars he had the chief military command in Worcestershire entrusted to him; but falling by the chance of war into the hands of the Parliament forces at Bewdley, he was confined in the tower of London for some years, his estates sequestrated, and amerced in 4000l. for his delinquency. His epitaph fixes the time of his death to 1650.
We regarded with veneration the tomb of John Hough Bishop of Worcester, who died in 1743, at the advanced age of ninety-three, having filled the episcopal chair nearly fifty-three years. When the obstinate zeal of James II. prompted him to attempt the most violent measures for the introduction of Popery, he issued his mandate to the fellows of Magdalen college, Oxon, for the election of one Farmer, a catholic, to be their president. The society resisted the nomination, and elected Hough, urging Farmer's ineligibility according to the statutes; their choice was confirmed by the visitor, but disputed by th ecclesiastical commission, who deprived Hough, and suspended two of the fellows. This sentence was disregarded by the principals, and became a matter of party. The King, in order to avoid the question of Farmer's ineligibility, issued a new mandate in favour of Parker Bishop of Oxford: the electors remained firm, and declared the place full by the nomination of Hough. The King himself went to Oxford, and personally Reprimanded the fellows, threatening, that if further disobedient, "they should feel the weight of his hand." A new commission of victors was appointed, who entered the town with three troops of horse; but Hough, who was a man equally resolute and virtuous, still remained inflexible, and denied the power of deprivation. For this he was accused, by the King's proftor, of contumacy, and his name struck out of the college book. He sought redress in Westminster-Hall, but failed of gaining it; whilst, by order of the court, the lodge was broke open, and Parker installed by proxy. This matter had now become the subject, of general concern, and would probably not have ended here, but for the agitation of a more momentous question relative to the church establishment, which immediately succeeded it, viz. "the Bishops' Petition." Hough was elected Bishop of Oxford 1690, translated to Coventry 1699, and to Worcester in 1717.
The dimensions of the cathedral are, five hundred and fourteen feet in length, seventy-eight feet in breath, and sixty-eight feet in height. The tower rises one hundred and sixty-two feet from the pavement. Adjoining this edifice are the cloisters, and the chapter-house; the former in perfect preservation, measuring one hundred and twenty-five feet by one hundred and twenty; the latter of a decagonal form, its roof supported by a solitary central pillar. Here we find the library, a warm and comfortable room, with the very unusual appearance of being much frequented. It contains a copy of Rubens's famous Antwerp picture, the Descent from the Cross; several MSS. the property formerly of the monastery here; and a curious book, printed by Nicholas de Frampton in 1478.
Our attention was caught, as we proceeded to Droitwich, about half way between that town and Worcester, (a distance of seven miles) by the ancient mansion of Hendlip, standing a few hundred yards out of the turnpike-road to the right hand; an house built in Queen Elizabeth's time, and presenting all the peculiarities of the singular architecture that was fashionable at a period when neither taste, neatness, or convenience, were understood. John Abingdon, the cofferer of this queen, is said to have built the house. Thomas, his son, the next possessor of Hendlip, makes a conspicuous figure in the many plots entered into in the 16th century for the restoration of the Romish religion in this country, and twice owed his life to the clemency of the court—to Elizabeth and James I. Active in his endeavours to release Mary Queen of Scots from her confinement, he was at length discovered, and confined for six years in the Tower; nor would his punishment, probably, have stopped short of death, had not the queen compassionated her own godson, and held the memory of his father's faithful services in regard. But the more atrocious act of joining in the powder-plot would certainly and deservedly have subjected him to capital punishment, if Lord Morley, the father of his wife, had not interceded for a pardon, which was granted him upon the terms of his never quitting the county of Worcester during the remainder of his life. This confinement was rendered less irksome to him by his engaging in a labour, the result of which we enjoy at present—the collection of materials for the history of Worcestershire; since arranged, compleated, and published by Dr. Nash.
Lord Morley had some claim, it should seem, upon the mercy of James, with respect to Abingdon, as it was through the means of his daughter, the wife of the latter, that the plot in agitation was discovered. Anxious to save the life of her brother Lord Monteagle, she framed the obscure letter received by that nobleman the night before the catastrophe was to have taken place; the meaning of which our English Solomon has the merit of alone being able to develope. Perpetually implicated in such dark contrivances, as at once demanded secrecy in their arrangement, and means of escape if attended with ill-success, Thomas converted the House of Hendlip into a proper scene for both purposes; filling it with a variety of hiding-places, so ingeniously managed as to require more than common sagacity y and perseverance to discover them. Into two of these inscrutable recesses four of the powder-plot conspirators, after the failure of the plot, were thrust by pairs; Owen and Chambers into one, and Garnett and Hill into another: and so well were they concealed, that no less than eight days and nights were consumed in searching for them before they were taken. The following contemporary account will give you a compleat idea of the curious plan on which the house was constructed, or rather altered, by Thomas Abingdon, and now exhibits:—
" Sir Henrie Bromlie, on Monday January 20th last, by break of day, did engirt and round beset the house of Mayster Thomas Abbingdon, at Hendlip, near Worcester. Mr. Abbingdon not being then at home, but ridden abroad about some occasions best known to himself, the house being goodlie and of great receipt, it required the more diligent labour and pains in the searching. It appeared there was no want, and Mr. Abbingdon coming liome that night, the commission and proclamation being shewn to him, he denied any such men to be in his house; and voluntarily to die at his own gate, if any such were to be found in his house, or in that shire; but this liberal, or rather rash, speech, could not cause the search so slightly to be given over, the cause enforced more respect than that or words of any such like nature; and proceeding on according to the trust reposed in him, in the gallery over the gate there were found two cunning and very artificial conveyances in the main brick wall, so ingeniously framed and with such art as it cost much labour ere they could be found. Three other secret places, contrived by no less skill and industry, were found in and about the chimnies, in one whereof two of the traitors were close concealed. These chimney conveyances being so strangely formed, having the entrances into them so curiously covered over with brick, mortared and made fast to planks of wood, and coloured black like the other parts of the chimney, that very diligent inquisition might well have passed by without throwing the least suspicion on such unsuspicious places. And whereas divers funnels are usually made to chimnies according as they are combined together, and serve for necessary use in several rooms, so here were some that exceeded common expectation, seemingly outwardly fit for carrying forth smoke; but being further examined and seen into, their service was to no such purpose, but only to lend air and light downward into the concealments, where such as were inclosed in them at any time should be hidden. Eleven secret corners and conveyances were found in the said house, all of them having books, massing stuff, and Popish trumpery, in them, only two excepted, which appeared to have been found on former searches, and therefore had now the less credit given to them. But Mayster Abbingdon would take no knowledge of any of these places, nor that the books or massing stuff were any of his, until at length the deeds of his lands were found in one of them, whose custody doubtless he would not commit to any place of neglect, or where he should have no intelligence of them, whereto he could then devise no sufficient excuse. Three days had been fully spent, and no man found there all this while; but upon the fourth day in the morning, from behind the wainscoat in the galleries, came forth two men of their own voluntary accord, as being no longer able there to conceal themselves, for they confessed, that they had but one apple between them, which was all the sustenance they had received during the time they were thus hidden. One of them was named Owen, who C 63 ] afterwards murdered himself in the Tower, and the other Chambers; but they would take no other knowledge of any other men's being in the house. On the eighth day the before-mentioned place in the chimney was found; forth of this secret and most cunning conveyance came Henry Garnet, the Jesuit, sought for, and another with him named Hall; marmalade and other sweetmeats were found there lying by them, but their better maintenance had been by a quill or reed through a little hole in a chimney that backed another chimney into a gentlewoman's chamber; and by that passage, cawdle, broths, and warm drinks had been conveyed in unto them."
Of these conspirators, all except Garnett were executed in the country. He was superior of the order of Jesuits in England, and had been actively employed in forwarding the plot; administering the oath of secrecy, and encouraging the confederates, with holding out emancipation from purgatory and eternal felicity, as the rewards of their praiseworthy undertaking; an activity which he expiated on the gallows in London. In this singular mansion are the curious family portraits of
John Abingdon, cofferer to Queen Elizabeth, and builder of Hendlip-House.
Percy, one of the ganpowder-plot conspirators, a relation of the Abingdons'; and supposed by Guthrie, though without foundation, to have written the letter which occasioned the suspicions of James, and the discovery of the plot.
Thomas Abingdon, above spoken of, whom punishment rendered happy, by turning his attention from the distraction of politics to the tranquillity of literary pursuits.
Mary his wife, daughter of Lord Morley, and sister to Lord Monteagle; to whom she wrote the letter we have so often mentioned, which is now preserved in the Paper-office, Whitehall.
The dirty town of Droit wich would not have detained us a moment, had it not offered to our notice those natural curiosities, the salt springs or brine-pits, which have been known and made an article of manufacture for above one thousand years last past. Till the year 1689, this process had been monopolized by a few grantees under the crown, who raised a large annual in- come from their pits in Upwich and Netherwich: but at that time a Mr. Steynor, a bold speculator, and deeply skilled in the law of property, determined to break through a system which had neither equity nor reason for its foundation, and sunk some pits upon his own ground. The Corporation, who were the grantees, immediately brought an action against him for this interruption of their rights; but after several hearings and great expence, their monopoly was set aside, and a verdict recorded, that all such persons as possessed property without the limits of the royal grant, had a right to sink pits, and manufacture salt for their own profit without molestation. In consequence of this adjudication, the value of the original pits gradually dwindled away, till at length, in the year 1725, it vanished into nothing; a method being then discovered by Sir Richard Lane of increasing the product of the brine in a tenfold proportion, by boring through the stratum of gypsum, that hitherto had formed the floor of these springs. No sooner was this perforation made, than a stream of strong brine boiled up with such prodigious force as to destroy the workmen who were employed in the pit. After this successful experiment of Sir Richard, the whole neighbourhood adopted his plan, so that in a short time a considerably larger quantity of brine was produced than could possibly be consumed in the manufacture, to the total destruction of the old pits, and the utter ruin of many families and charties, which had the whole of their income secured upon them. The basis of the country hereabouts seems to be salt rock, which lies usually from one hundred and fifty to two hundred feet under the surface; the first spring is met with about one hundred and ten feet down, after which occurs a stratum of gypsum one hundred or one hundred and thirty feet in thickness; then a brine river of twenty-two inches deep, and finally a bed of salt rock of unknown thickness. In a search for the brine river made a few years since, the successive appearances in the earth were these—mould four feet, marl thirty-two feet, gypsum forty feet, a brine river twenty-two inches, another stratum of gypsum seventy-five feet thick, and then the salt rock. From the brine thus procured, which exceeds all others in strength and purity, is manufactured the Droitwich salt, by the following process:—A small quantity of water being previously poured into the boiling pan, to prevent the brine from burning at the bottom, it is then nearly filled with this strongly impregnated saline liquid; the pans are made of iron, broad, flat, and about fifteen inches deep, and placed over a furnace, with a high and wide chimney above them to assist the evaporation. A small lump of resin being thrown into the brine, to make it granulate, the process of ebullition and evaporation soon takes place; an incrustation of salt is presently formed on the face, which, after a short suspension, sinks to the bottom, and is then taken out by a man called the worler, who throws it into a wicker basket of a sugar-loaf shape, in order to drain. Having continued in these baskets for a few minutes, it is again turned out, and carried to the oven to harden; and is afterwards ready for sale. Previously to the American struggle, the salt-trade of this place returned to government in duty nearly 8o,oool. per annum. But tempora mutantur; and Droitwich, like all other commercial towns, has felt the fatal effects of dismembered empire and long-protraced war.
Our road from hence to Bromsgrove took in general an high level, and occasionally afforded us an extensive view; but it was of a different nature to the country we had passed. The rich luxuriance of vegetation and the fine fringes of wood skirting the pastures, which we had remarked on all sides in the southern parts of Worcestershire, were gradually disappearing as we proceeded to the north of the county; a nakedness and deficiency which were accounted for by the comparative poverty of the red sandy soil whereon we were now entered. With this changed picture the town of Bromsgrove was in unison; a large but dirty place, full of shops and manufactures, employed in making sheeting, nails, and needles.
The same uninteresting scenery accompanied us for five miles beyond Bromsgrove, when, on our approach to the classic ground of Hagley, the demesne of Lord Lyttelton, its face was suddenly changed into the lovely and picturesque. Here the road creeps through a deep hollow way cut out of the sand rock, that rises in a wall on each side crowned with shrubs and trees, and admits through the lengthened excavation a pleasing vista of diversified scenery at its termination. There could not have been a more happy introduction than this to a scene like Hagley, in which taste and imagination must always feel themselves deeply interested, had it been rather nearer to the house than nature has chosen to place it. But as a long mile intervenes between the park and the ravine, the impressions with which the beauty of the spot had filled the fancy, have time to evaporate; and we enter less enthusiastically upon the ground trodden by departed genius, than we should have done, had the circumstances of the country been such as to keep awake these evanescent feelings. The house of Hagley was built by the first Lord Lyttelton, near the scite of the ancient family mansion, an old-fashioned structure of the 16th century; which had been the hiding-place of two more of the gunpowder-plot conspirators, Stephen Lyttelton and Robert Winter. The term of their concealment, however, was but short, being betrayed by an under-cook belonging to the family. Humphrey Lyttelton, the owner at that time of the estate, who had received the traitors into his protection, and endeavoured to secrete them, was content to save his neck by discovering, as it is said, the unfortunate men that had taken refuge in Hendlip-house. The present mansion is a plain and simple but classical building, placed in the flat part of the park, the ground swelling into gentle hills on three sides of it. Its form is a parallelogram, and its chief front adorned with a double flight of steps on each side, from the platform of which is a fine extensive view.
The land rises majestically behind the house, but is utterly spoiled by those artificial decorations which the fashion of the day sixty years ago considered as additions the most elegant and appropriate; and which attached to Hagley-park almost the exclusive character of taste in the design, disposition, and ornament of pleasure-grounds. These decorations are a temple; a Gothic ruin; an obelisk; a pillar; a Palladian bridge; two or three trumpery grottos; and as many bits of water of diminutive size and accurate mathematic forms; quotations painted on tablets of wood, culled from poets, ancient and modern, with the most artful care, in order that every word may have its appropriate feature in the scene to which it applies, compleat the list of ornaments in the famed Hagley grounds—ornaments highly in vogue half a century since, an æra in the history of English gardening when a classical mania had seized upon our improvers, after their escape from the strait lines and clipped yews of the Dutch manner, but utterly exploded as soon as good taste and common sense taught our designers of pleasure-ground, that their proper business was to assist nature, and not to destroy her; to tame her extravagance and soften her harshness, without changing her simplicity, wildness, and variety, for the operose and studied productions of artificial skill. The ruin, however, is good in its kind, and being situated upon the summit of a lofty hill, gratifies the eye with a prodigiously wide and diversified scene. The urn, also, dedicated to Pope, with this short inscription—
"ALEXANDRO POPE, Poetarum Anglicorum elegantissimo dulcissimoque, vitiorum castigatori acerrimo, sapientiæ doctori suavissimo, sacra est. 1744."
"Ingenio immortali JACOBI THOMSON, Poetæ sublimis viri boni, ædiculam hanc in secessu quern vivus dilexit, post mortem ejus constructam, dicat dedicatque Georgius Lyttelton."
interest the imagination, and recall the recollection of those feasts of reason, in which the elegant Lyttelton indulged at Hagley with the author of the 'Rape of the Lock,' and the writer of the 'Seasons.' Contemplation is assisted likewise by the little parish church, which stands in the park, almost buried in trees; the plantations, indeed, are injudiciously luxuriant, as they entirely shut out this structure from the house; whereas, had a partial peep at its ancient tower or Gothic window been admitted, the object, would not only have been a pleasing one in itself, but have made an happy variety in the ornaments of the ground commanded from the principal rooms.
The first apartment into which we were introduced was the hall, where we found
Six antique Busts.—A relief over the chimney.—Pan courting Diana, by Vassali.—Casts of a Corybant, of Bacchus, of Mercury, and of Venus, in four niches, copies from the Florentine gallery.—Busts of Rubens and Vandyke, by Rysbrack.
In the parlour, a Landscape, the Villa Madama, near Rome, where the 'Pastor Fido' was first performed, by Wilson.—A little St. John, highly finished, the hands particularly fine, copied from Guercino, by B.le Jeune.—Madona and Child, by Rubens, the child laughing, animated, fleshy, and grand colouring.—In this room, also, we have the following portraits:
Judge Lyttelton, a picture pronounced by Mr. Granger to be a copy from the painted glass in the Middle-Temple hall, representing this great lawyer, whose name was held in such high veneration by the members of the Middle-Temple, that when one of his descendants applied for chambers within the house, it was resolved nem. con. by the benchers, he should be admitted without fine or the customary fees, in testimony of the great respect due from the whole society to the name of Lyttelton. Obiit 1481.
Lord Keeper Lyttelton, who, like his ancestor, was well skilled in the laws of the land, but too much inclined to meddle with the troubled politics of the day. On the recommendation of Archbishop Laud and Lord Strafford, he was raised to the high legal offices which he filled, for the purpose of furthering the wishes of Charles I.; and to the peerage, in order that he might serve the cause of that unfortunate nobleman; but at the commencement of Strafford's trial, he waved his privilege of voting, because he had been a commoner when the accusation was brought up. All parties justly considered this reason as an idle excuse, since others in the like situation voted undisturbed; indeed, his whole character, as drawn by Lord Clarendon and others, exhibits too much of (what should never be allowed to enter the breast of a judge) a spirit of party intrigue. He died 1645, and was at that time colonel of a troop of horse in Oxford.
Admiral Smith.
Sir Thomas Lyttelton, father of the present lord, was thrice chosen representative for the county of Worcester; appointed a lord of the Admiralty in 1727, which situation he relinquished in 1741, and retired from Parliament. Obiit 1751, ætat 66. The painting is by Van Somer.
Dr. Charles Lyttelton Bishop of Carlisle, third son of Sir Thomas; originally a member of the Middle-Temple, he practised as a barrister; but relinquished that profession for the church. He was appointed chaplain in ordinary in 1747, in the following year promoted to the deanery of Exeter, and to the see of Carlisle in 1762. Obiit 1768.
William Henry, the present lord, succeeded to the baronetage on the decease of his nephew Thomas (generally known by the title of the ghost-seer) without issue, with whom the barony became extinct; but was revived in 1794, in the present peer, who had previously been ennobled by the title of Baron Westcote of Ireland.
Lieut. General Sir Richard Lyttelton, by P. Battoni, fifth son of Sir Thomas; was early in life placed in the situation most likely to prove advantageous to those who have a turn for military affairs, being appointed page of honour to Queen Caroline; and regularly rose from an ensigncy in the Guards to the rank of lieut. -general, enjoying the offices of master of the jewel-office, governor of Minorca and Guernsey, and the dignity of a knight of the Bath. He married Rachael Powager Duchess of Brdgewater. Obiit 1770.
George Lord Lyitelton, by West, eldest son of Sir Thomas, was early initiated in the busy scene of politics, and distinguished himself in a violent opposition to Sir Robert Walpole. On the downfall of that great minister, Lyttelton reaped the advantage of his opposition, and in 1744 was nominated cofferer and privy-counsellor; and the following year made chancellor of the exchequer. In 1757 he retired from public life with a peerage. He has obtained a place in Johnson's 'Lives of the Poets,' though the biographer acknowledges, that if his poems be not to be despised, they can hardly be admired. He consoled himself for the loss of an affectionate wife by writing a long poem to her memory, full of grief and plaintive sorrow; but sought a different kind of solace at the expiration of two years, by a second marriage with Elizabeth daughter of Sir Robert Rich; and had not the like cause or opportunity to lament her decease. Perhaps, mindful how seldom true character can be found graven on the tomb, he was interred at Hagley, by the side of his Lady, with this plain inscription on his monument:
"This unadorned stone was placed here by the particular desire and express directions of the Right Honourable GEORGE Lord LYTTELTON, who died August 22d, 1773, aged 64."
Lucy first Countess of Lyttelton, daughter of Hugh Fortescue, of Filleigh in Devonshire, the subject of Lord Lyttelton's elaborate elegy. Of such public declarations of mental anguish it may be remarked, that their foundation is vanity, and their super-structure is affectation. The seriousness which embraces the heart, it has been well observed, is not the offspring of volition but of instinct. It is not a purpose, but a frame. The sorrow that is sorrow indeed, asks for no prompting; it comes without a call; it courts not admiration; it presses not on the general eye, but hastens under covert, and wails its widowhood alone; its strong hold is the heart, there it remains close curtained—unseeing, unseen. Delicacy and taste recoil at the publication of internal griefs. They prophane the hallowedness of secret sadness; and suppose selected and decorated expression compatible with the prostration of the soul. No man will give Lord Lyttelton credit for those feelings towards his first love, which the polished lines of his elegy breathe, who adverts to the circumstances and character of his second. But this composition was not the only poetical tribute to the memory of Lucy from the pen of his Lordship. The following Latin and English epitaphs upon her monument in Hagley church are succeeded by some laudatory lines in the highest strain of eulogium:
"M. S.
LUCIÆ LYTTELTON,
Ex antiquissimorum Fortescutorum generc ortæ
Quæ annos nata viginti novem,
Fornix eximiac, indolis optimæ,
Ingenii maximi,
Omnibus bonis artibus literisque
humanioribus supra ætatcm et sexum exculti, sine superbia laude florens, mortw immatura, vitam pie, pudice, sancte actarn; in tcrtio puerperio
sancte actam; in tertio puerperio calusit, decimo nono die Januarii, anno Domini 1746-7; fleta ctiam ab ignotis. Uxori dilectissimo quinquennio fclicissimo conjugii nondum absoluti, immensi amoris ac desiderii hoc qualicumque monumentum posuit Georgius Lyttelton, adhue cheu superstes, et in eodem sepulchro ipse olim sepeliendus. At per Jesum Christum salvatorem suum, ad vitae melioris diuturniora guadia, lachrymis in aeternum abstrusis, se cum ilia resurrecturum conridens."
The English Epitaph is as follows :
"To the memory of LUCY LYTTELTON, daughter of Hugh Fortescue, of Filleigh in the county of Devon, esq; father to the present Earl of Clinton, by Lucy his wife, the daughter of Matthew Lord Aylmer, who departed this life the 19th of January 1746-7, aged 29; having employed the short time assigned to her here in the uniform practice of religion and virtue.
"Made to engage all hearts, and charm all eyes;
Though meek, magnanimous; though witty, wise;
Polite, as all her life in courts had been,
Yet good, as she the world had never seen;
The noble fire of an exalted mind,
With gentlest female tenderness combin'd;
Her speech was the melodious voice of love,
Her song the warbling of the vernal grove.
Her eloquence was sweeter than her song,
Soft as her heart, and as her reason strong.
Her form each beauty of her mind exprest,
Her mind was Virtue by the Graces drest."
In the Gallery, (a fine room, but low in proportion to its length, though this aukward effect, is judiciously attempted to be counteracted by pillars at either end) we find a Virgin and Infant Christ by Old Stone; the child natural and easy, its head thrown back, and laughing face.
Two antique busts, without drapery.
Frances Duchess of Richmond, by Lely. A distinguished character in the memoirs of the lively Count Grammont, by her maiden name of Stuart. Her portrait is amongst the beauties at Windsor, and she was generally considered the brightest gem in the court of Charles II. who would gladly have divorced his queen, and raised her to his throne. She had the art of fascinating all classes; insomuch that Rotier the engraver was so passionately enamoured with her, as to display her face on various medals in the character of Britannia, and the resemblance is easily recogn'zed.
Sir William Fairfax, of Steton in Yorkshire, knt. father of
Catherine first wife of Sir Charles Lyttelton, by Lely. She died in Jamaica, and was buried in the church at Spanish-Town, 1662, aged 26.
Sir Charles Lyttelton in armour, with a black boy, by Le Fcvre; a steady adherent to the House of Stuart, and serving in the garrison at Colchester, when so severely besieged by Cromwell's forces. On its surrender, he escaped into France, but returned on Sir George Booth declaring in Cheshire for the King. The design failing, Lyttelton was imprisoned at the Gatehouse, Westminster, from whence he again repaired to Charles on being liberated, and was highly serviceable as a negotiator with his partizans in England. On the Restoration, he was appointed Governor of Jamaica, and built Port-Royal. Returning home, he was made governor of Sheerness and Landguardfort, with various other employments, which he enjoyed till the Revolution, when he relinquished them, and died at Hagley 1716.
Mary Duchess of Buckingham, by Vandyck; daughter of Thomas Lord Fairfax, and wife of George Villiers Duke of Buckingham. Obiit 1705. Æt. 66.
John Lyttelton, by Zucchero; married to Bridget daughter and coheiress of his guardian Sir John Packington, with whose fortune he rebuilt his seat at Frankley; which was afterwards destroyed by Prince Rupert, to prevent its falling into the hands of the Parliament forces. He was in equal estimation with Mary and Elizabeth, though a catholic. Ob. 1590. it. 69. The motto on this portrait is
"Heu mihi cui nee vicisci
"Nee tantum qvieri licet."
Countess of Exeter, by Vandyck.
William Lord Erouncker, by Lely, stiled by Bishop Burnet " a profound mathematician, " was Chancellor to Queen Catherine, and in the commission of Lord High- Admiral. On the first institution of the Royal Society, he was appointed president, and his picture is still preserved with other distinguished characters in the apartments allotted to the Society in Somerset-House. Ob. 1684. Æt. 69.
Countess of Suffolk, by Lely.
Miss Brown, sister to Sir Geo. Brown, by Lely.
Anne Countess of Bedford, sole daughter of Car Earl of Somerset, by the profligate divorced Lady Essex, and wife of William Earl of Bedford, who was created Duke 1694. Ob. 1680. Æt. 64. (Vandyck.)
Anne Countess of Southesk, daughter of William Duke of Hamilton. Some lively traits of her disposition may be found in the secret memoirs of Charles the Second's court, by Count Grammont; but a graver historian has detailed her amours with the Duke of York, and the extraordinary steps adopted by her lord to punish his Highness.— Vide "Burnet's own Times," vol. i. p. 319.
James Duke of Monmouth, an uncommonly fine picture by Lely. The handsome, restless, and ambitious son of Charles II. by Lucy Walters. He attempted to conquer a kingdom with the assistance of a band of raw undisciplined troops, collected from the farmers and mechanics in the West, where he landed in 1685. After the defeat at Sedgmoor, he was found in a wood, with a few pease in his pockets, disguised as a peasant; carried to London; executed on Tower-Hill, July 15th, 1685; and his headless body was deposited beneath the communion-table in the adjoining church of St. Petrus ad Vincula.
Oliver Cromwell, with Sir Peter Temple, knt. and bart, a copy, by Jarvis, from the original in the possession of the Rich family. Sir Peter was one of the members of the High Court of Justice for the trial of Charles I. but appears by the Journal not to have acted. He was author of "Man's Master-Piece," to which his head, by Gay wood, is prefixed.
Sir Christopher Minns, by Zonst; son of an honest shoemaker in London, and one of the many instances which the naval register of England furnishes, of men who have been the architects of their own fortune. Whatever might have been the necessary recommendations to favouritism during the reign of Charles II. yet no period of our history teems more fully with details of gallant and heroic naval exploits; and at no æra do the commanders appear to have been more liberally or honourably rewarded. Kit Minns, as he familiarly stiled himself, was one of the admirals engaged against De Ruyter and Tromp, in the memorable action which begun on the first of June 1666. On the fourth day he received a shot in his neck, but remained at his post, holding his wound with both hands in great pain, till another ball pierced his throat, and laid him for ever at rest.
Princess of Orange, mother to William III. by Gerard Honthurst.
Lady Barrymore and Son, by Lely.
Sir Thomas Clifford, Lord Treasurer, by Old Stone. He was one of the famous, or rather infamous, administration, chosen by Charles II. and denominated the Cabal, from the initials of their names, viz. Clifford, Ashley, Buckingham, Arlington, Lauderdale. Perhaps the English History does not offer a junto more noted for wicked councils. All writers agree that Clifford had gained his situation by his eloquence and influence in the House of Commons; consequently, his disregard of principle became more alarming. He was a man of undoubted courage and intrepidity, and during the Dutch wars had volunteered his services under Prince Rupert and Albermarle. On his return home he was successively appointed comptroller of the household, secretary of state, and lord high treasurer, with the title of Lord Clifford of Chudleigh. Being a catholic, the staff of office was struck from his hands by the famous Test-act againt popery, passed in 1672; soon after which he retired into the country, followed by the execrations of the whole nation, and died 1673, aged 43.
The Drawing-Room is hung with superb old tapestry, and contains the following portraits:
William Pulteney Earl of Bath. Ob. 1764.
Over the door on the left,
Philip Dormer Stanhope Earl of Chesterfield, by Vanloo. An accomplished gentleman, elegant in his prose, lively in his verse, brilliant in his wit, and fascinating in his eloquence; capable of shining in any society, notwithstanding the remark of Dr. Johnson, that "he might be a wit amongst lords, but would be only a lord amongst wits." But in this observation, the lexicographer seems to have made his own gigantic intellect the standard of comparison. Anxious to make his talents appear hereditary, the Earl bestowed great pains on his son; but with as little success as the Protector Cromwell, whose heir was content to return to the plough. Ob. 1773. Æt. 78.
Richard Temple Viscount Cobham, by Vanloo; he was founder of the Grenville family, by the marriage of his sister Hester to Richard Grenville, 1710. Ob. 1749.
Henry Pelham, Chancellor of the Exchequer; by Shackleton. Ob. 1754.
Philip first Earl of Hardwicke, by Ramsay; raised by splendid talents and great legal knowledge, to the dignified situation of Lord Chancellor, in which his integrity and impartiality were exemplary and imimpeached. Ob. 1764. Æt. 73.
In the Saloon are,
Charles I. by Old Stone; and his
Queen Henrietta Maria; whose counsels are said to have had too much sway with her unfortunate consort. It is a curious fact, that her bigotry would not allow her to assist at the ceremony of her husband's consecration in a protestant church; and in consequence she appeared there only as a spectator.
Family of Charles I. five children by Vandyck.
The Marriage of Neptune with Cybele; or Earth and Water producing Plenty. The joint work of Rubens and Teniers; in which the grand style of the former easily marks his share of the labour. The laughing countenances of two children contrast finely with the severity of Cybele.
Jacob and his Family journeying; by Jacomo Basano.
James Hay second Earl of Carlisle, by Vandyck.
Frances Stuart Countess of Portland, wife to Jerome Weston, and daughter to Esme Duke of Richmond.
Venus reconciled to Psyche; a fine picture by Titian.
In the Dressing-Room next the Saloon—
Charles II. and his queen Catherine of Braganza.
Sir Henry Littelton, by Greenhill. He represented Lichfield in Parliament A. D. 1660, and was one of the jury for the trial of the regicides. The ever wakeful suspicion of Cromwell fixed upon this gentleman; and for seventeen months he was confined in the Tower. Obiit 1693. Aged 69.
Arcadian scene, sun-set, by Nicholas Poussin; the light let in grandly through a ruined arch.
A beautiful Dead Christ; affecting and sublime, by Vandyck.
In the India Paper Dressing-Room.
Sir Thomas Lyttelton, by Van Somer; of whom I have spoken under Worcester cathedral. Obiit 1650, having married
Catherine, daughter of Sir Thomas Crompton, by whom he had twelve sons and four daughters. Obiit 1666. Æt. 67.
Mr. John Lyttelton, one of the council who met at Drury-House in London, to further Essex's treasons, which cost the leader his head, and Lyttelton his estate. Having been convicted of the conspiracy, he would probably have been executed, had he not died in the King's-Bench prison in 1601, aged 39, having left three sons and five daughters.
Mr. Edw. Lyttelton, by Greenhill, sixth son of Sir Thomas, who was killed in a duel at Worcester.
George, youngest son of Sir Thomas Lyttelton, a major in the army. He married the daughter of the famous Sir Thomas Brown of Norwich.
Ferdinando, eleventh son of Sir Thomas Lyttelton; groom of the bedchamber to James Duke of York. He was killed, whilst leading on a regiment of horse in the French King's service.
In the Green Bedchamber—
Two Misers, a grand picture by Quintin Matzis. The same subject, and equally fine, with the painting at Windsor.
Venus and dead Adonis; the latter figure superlatively fine, the relaxation of the muscles quite natural.
Lot and his Daughters, by Luca Giordano. The figure of Lot better than that of the females. The coming out of his legs is particularly striking.
Holy Family in Egypt, by Le Serve.
View on the river Cherwell, by Greenhill.
In the Scarlet Bed-chamber—
Sir Charles Lyttelton, and a black boy, by Le Fevre.
Louise de Querouaille Duchess of Portsmouth, a luxuriant portrait, by Le Fevre. This female was a favourite mistress of Charles II. artfully introduced to him by Louis XIV. when he wanted to bind the English Monarch to the French interest; and events fully justified the selection, for at no period was the business of the British Court carried on with a greater subserviency to that of France. She died at Paris 1734, ætat 89.
George Lord Lyttelton, by Sir J. Reynolds.
The Woman taken in Adultery, by Varotari, the best scholar of Paul Veronese.
Spanish Soldiers playing at Dice, by Mr. Patour, an imitation of Giorgeani's manner; a fine picture, the figures prodigiously animated.
In the scarlet dressing-room—
The hero William of Nassau, founder of the Dutch Republic, by Miravelt; a heavy squat figure, thoughtful, dark, and melancholy, but with a sagacious, expressive countenance, and eyes of fire.—Sir Alexander Temple, by C. Janssen.
Sir John Lyttelton, by Zucchero, 1557.
Sir Thomas Lyttelton, knight and baronet, father to Sir Charles, by Van Somer.
Catherine his wife, daughter of Sir Thomas Crompton, by C. Janssen.
Sir Edward Carew, by Old Stone.
Sir Francis Vere, a gallant knight of the 16th century; who, as a recompence for repeated marks of valour, was appointed governor of Flushing 1596, by Queen Elizabeth. Obiit 1608.
Ferdinand Lyttelton, brother of Sir Charles, by Zoust.
Muriel, by C. Janssen, daughter of Sir Thomas Bromley, lord chancellor. On the accession of James I. she received, as an act of mercy, the forfeited estates of her husband Mr. John Lyttleton, who had been condemned to death, and had his estates confiscated, for the part he bore in Essex's plot. Her rational piety was evinced in carefully educating her children in the Protestant faith, the Lyttelton family, previously to that time, having been bigotted Papists; and her humility was displayed in her choice of a place of sepulture in the centre of the church-yard, amongst the croud of "unhonoured dead." There her remains repose under a plain tomb, bearing the following inscription:
" 16 (Christ is my life) 30
" and
" Death my advantage.
" I trust to see the Lord
" In the land of the living."
Prince Maurice, when young, by Dobson. He was third son of the King of Bohemia, and brother to Prince Rupert; and signalized himself by his military exploits during the civil wars of Charles Ist's reign. If he wanted his brother's fire, he greatly surpassed him in prudence and discretion, in well knowing how to follow up any advantages which he had gained over his enemy; an important species of military knowledge, which the impetuous spirit of Rupert prevented him from ever acquiring.
Lady Paget, by C. Janssen.
Lady Crompton, wife of Sir Thomas Crompton, daughter to Lady Paget, and mother of Catherine lady of Sir Thomas Lyttelton; by C. Janssen.
The Queen of Bohemia, by C. Janssen.
Christ with his Disciples at Emmaus, supposed by Le Brun.
In the library, over the chimney we find Pope, with his dog Bounce; by Richardson. If the painter has failed in his likeness of the faithful companion of our celebrated poet, we have a full description of the favourite by his master, in one of his epistles to Mr. Cromwell, where he reports him "little, lean, and none of the finest shaped. He is not much a spaniel in his fawning, but has a dumb surly sort of kindness that rather shews itself when he thinks me ill-used by others, than when we walk peaceably and quietly by ourselves."
Gilbert West, the intimate friend and companion of George Lord Lyttelton, and the great Earl of Chatham. By the patronage of the latter nobleman, he was nominated to the office of treasurer of Chelsea Hospital in 1752; a sinecure, which, in addition to one of the lucrative clerkships of the privy council, enabled him to pass in affluence and ease a life too short for the wishes of his friends. Grief for the loss of an only son provoked a stroke of the palsy, which brought him to the grave, Anno Domini 1756.
James Thomsonson of a dissenting minister in Scotland. Soon after his arrival in London, he was engaged as travelling tutor to the son of Chancellor Talbot, by whom he was made secretary of the briefs. On the death of his patron, our poet, was either too proud or too timid to solicit a continuance of the employment, and his affairs again fell into a poetical posture. By the recommendation of George Lord Lyttelton, he obtained a pension of one hundred pounds per annum from Frederic Prince of Wales; and under the same influence gained the appointment of surveyor-general of the Leeward-Islands. As a poet, he may almost be styled the child of nature; when we read his 'Seasons,' we see around us all that he describes, and wonder that the view has so long escaped us. Obiit 1748. Æt. 47.
Over the bookcases are four good marble Busts, by Shremaker, representing Milton, Shakespeare, Spenser, and Dryden. They are the more interesting, from the circumstance of their having been the property of Pope, and bequeathed by him to George Lord Lyttelton.
From most of the rooms the views are agreeably diversified; and a still greater variety might have been introduced, had the little parish church (as I have before observed) been allowed to make a feature in the scene. In the time of George Lord Lyttelton, who was not ashamed of such a neighbour, its ivied tower and Gothic windows peeped prettily from the woods that now encircle it, and threw into the pleasing impressions which the surrounding scenery excited, the agreeable idea of public social worship. But this did not symphonize with the feelings of his successor; to him the house of God was a bugbear, and as such he determined to conceal it from his sight. He, therefore, thickened his plantations; and so effectually, as to preclude all appearance of the little picturesque structure, till it be nearly approached. As we listened to this fact, recorded by an old inhabitant of the place, we could not but advert to the singular and powerful opposition of character exemplified in the two successive possessors of Hagley-park Lord George, and his son. The former a man of the highest intellectual powers and acquirements, and at the same time of the warmest piety and most exalted virtue; the champion of the Christian cause, and the able assert or of the truth of the Gospel; whose treatise on the Conversion of St. Paul will ever remain a monument of his religion and his talents; a composition clear in style and irresistible in argument, at once calculated to confirm the believer, to convince the sceptic, and to silence the infidel. The latter, also, of lofty intellect and splendid attainments, but of equal profligacy and irreligion; the fascinating seducer of innocence, and the shameless contemner of every thing sacred; whose short, but pernicious, life was passed in scoffing at the obligation of virtue, and violating the sanctions of morality; but who, after all his bold impiety, was at last literally frightened to death, by the horrible fantasies of his own imagination. The ghost story, to which I allude, is too generally known to render it necessary for me to trouble you with it at present. Let it be sufficient for me to remark, that the family continue to believe the reality of die supernatural appearance to his lordship; and a very near relation of his has had a painting made of the occurence, wherein Lord Lyttelton is represented in bed, at the foot of which stands a little female figure, bearing upon her finger a small bird, whilst several demoniacal figures are fluttering about his head; such being the vision (according to his account to his valet) that had appeared, and notified to him he should die at a particular hour. To afford encouragement and corroboration to virtue, it may be well for it to recoiled!:, that there is no guilt without horror, no vice without remorse.
Amidst all those corruscations of wit, and flashes of merriment, which incessantly emanated from this young and gallant nobleman, his heart was wrung with everlasting care, and his soul harrowed by superstitious alarms. Of the truth of this assertion the following is a remarkable instance:—A few months before he died, he made a visit to the seat of Lord, an old friend and neighbour. The mansion is old and gloomy, and well calculated to affect an imagination that could be easily acted upon; the spirits of his lordship appeared to be agitated on entrance, but after a time his accustomed hilarity returned, the magic of his tongue enraptured the circle; and all, apparently, was festivity and delight. As the night waned and the hour of repose approached, his lordship's powers of conversation became still more extraordinary; the company were rivetted to their chairs, and as often as the clock admonished them to depart, so often did he prevail upon them to forget the admonition, by a fresh stock of anecdote, or a new chain of witticisms. At length, however, the party broke up, and retired to their rooms; where, after a short time, Lord was surprised by the intrusion of his friend Lord Lyttelton, who, with a countenance of horror and consternation, requested that he might be allowed to sleep in the same room with him, as he had been frightened by the creaking of the floors when he first entered the house, and was not able to conquer the alarm which the noise had excited in his mind!
In our way to Stourbridge, the noble charity of Thomas Foley, esq; ancestor of the present lord, lying a little out of the road to the left hand, attracted our notice. An estate devised by this philanthropic character, now netting about eight hundred pounds per ann. supports the establishment; which educates, clothes, and feeds, sixty poor children belonging to the parish of Old Swinford, wherein it is situated, and the neighbouring parishes, and at a certain age places them in the world as apprentices to different callings. Their dress is similar to that of Christ's-Hospital, and the regulationsof the college in a great measure the same.
The glass manufactories are the only objects of curiosity at Stourbridge; great quantities of white glass are made at them, but there is nothing particular in their process or produce. Shortly after quitting this place, we dropped the sandy soil which had accompanied us for several miles, and entered upon a stiff clay, the external covering to these productive mines of coals, and that peculiar nodulated iron ore, which now began to appear on all sides of us.
The locality of coal and ore in these parts is somewhat singular, since they only extend to the distance of about six miles round Dudley, and are then lost, and succeeded by sand. Indeed, the whole geology of this district is curious, and well deserves the attention of the naturalist. Fortunately for the lovers of science, its peculiarities have been ably developed by Mr. Keir, the celebrated chemist and natural philosopher; whose paper on this subject makes the most valuable feature in the History of Staffordshire. A constant resident on the spot, and an attentive observer of the phenomena it presents, his observations form a complete history of local geology, and afford an admirable model for writers on the same subject who, instead of extending their remarks so widely as they are accustomed to do, and attempting general geological histories, would do well to embrace merely the district within their own constant observation; and when facts have thus been sufficiently multiplied, to begin the erection of systems on their broad and solid foundation, rather than on the unsubstantial basis of airy hypothesis.
Your's, &c.