Notes in England and Italy

Front matter

This "0-P Book" Is an Authorized Reprint of the Original Edition, Produced by Microfilm-Xerography by University Microfilms, Inc., Ann Arbor, Michigan, 1965

NOTES

IN

Preface

I THINK it necessary to say that these "Notes/* written twelve years ago, were never meant for publication ; but solely for my own reference, and for a means of recalling to my friends what had especially interested me abroad. Many of these friends have repeatedly urged me to print them, from a too partial estimate of their value ; and I have steadily resisted the suggestion, until now, when I reluctantly yield. If, however, they will aid any one in the icast to enjoy, as I have enjoyed, the illustrious works of the Great Masters in Architecture, Sculpture, and Painting, I shall be well repaid for the pain it has cost me to appear before the public.

S. H.

DRESDEN, August, 1809.

ENGLAND.

I. SKIPTON CASTLE. — BOLTON PRIORY. — YORK Mix-

STER, 7

II. LINCOLN CATHEDRAL, 31

III. OLD BOSTON AND ST. BOTOLPH'S, . . 50

IV. PETERDORO CATHEDRAL, 69

V. NEWSTEAD ABBEY 85

VI. ON THE WAY TO SCOTLAND, .... 106

SCOTLAND.

I. BURNS' REGION, 119

II. GLASGOW, 146

III. DUMBARTON, 156

IV. LOCH LOMOND AND THE BENS, ... 163

V. INVK.RSNAID AND LOCH KATRINE AND THE

TROSACHS, 173

VI. BRIDGE OF ALLAN, 190

Contents

ITALY.

MM

I. ROMAN JOURNAL, . 197

I. Skiptox Castle.— Boltox Priory

SKIITOX, YoitKsniiiE, April 10th.

* * * * As we approached Yorkshire, we found stone walls for the first time in England, instead of green hedges. But they were nice and pretty stone walls, and not such rude structures as ours in America. The stones were as smooth and even as those of a house, and battlemented along the top. After the low sandhills of Southport, it was tmiy refreshing to see the Yorkshire "Wolds. (Wolds is the Yorkshire name for hills.)

"We saw some very ugly, small, manufacturing towns in Lancashire, in which I do not understand how any one can consent to live. In one was a monument that seemed to be erected to the honor of the Smoke-Demon, — a lofty, symmetrical stone column, resting on a .square base, net near any manufactory ; and close against the sky a long plume of black smoke continually floated from its summit, like the incense of a bad heart. Dear me ! at what a cost come forth, so clean and splendid, all our pivtty prints, and silks, and velvets ! How is it that the grimuess of the workmen and of the atmospheVe never sullies them ? They look as if the tidiest of fairies fashioned them in ivory palaces, where there is never a stain in the air.

We crossed the river Darwen twice, and arrived at Skiptou soon after five. It proves a larger town than I thought, and is beautifully situated in a hollow between thrice three hills. We found a tolerably pretentious station, and a nice man, who politely attended us to what he called " a 'Bus," which ho said belonged to the first hotel in town, called " The Devonshire Arms." So hither we drove. It was

what J considered " a jolly little 'Bus," being

ouly as large as a cab, yet the seats arranged like tlibse of omnibuses. The landlady, glorious in cherry ribbons, received us at the door, and iishered us up into a front sitting-room, comfortable with a lounge, and a large fireplace, in which the maid soon kindled a blazing fire.

We were all so restored by our refection, that wo concluded to take a walk. I asked the maid whether there were any pleasant places, and she saitl, " Skipton Woods is very pleasant, and not far off." So we went toward Skipton Woods ; but met a fine old castle on the Avay. A stout John Bull, with a rubicund visage, who was piously pushing his child about in a perambulator, on his leisure Good Friday, I took the liberty to accost. I asked him whether we could see the castle ; and ho was very smiling and kind, and replied, " Yes ; as it wag Good Fridu}r, he thought we could : that the family was not there, but the housekeeper was."

SKIPTON CASTLE. 9

So we entered the grand, towered gateway, with "DESORMAIS" sculptured iu open stone-work on the top, flanked by a donjon-keep on each side, and found ourselves in a fine park, within the walls — a small park, perhaps a garden rather. A group of girls, keeping holiday, emerged from an arch, and I asked them where wo could find the housekeeper. One said that I " must go into a door by the bushy trees." These " bushy trees" were mammoth boxtrees, more than six feet high, and of great circumference, cut in the shape of globes. Lawn and flower-clumps, with gravel walks, filled the enclosure, and the perpetual ivy climbed the inner surface of the high walls. It looked very inhabitable, and not vast, like the environments of many castles we have seen, and, though statety, not a kingdom, as is Knowesly."" We found a low-arched door, leading through the thickness of the castle, and out upon a staircase on the other side, high above a moat. Looking over, wo saw a waterfall and a stream and clustering trees, far down beneath. But, alas ! this was not one of Nature's waterfalls, but what the housekeeper called " a wash" only, which now turns a mill. The sound of rushing water, however, was just the same, and very refreshing. We ascended the staircase, and at my knock, a neat, florid, thin woman opened the door, and civilly acceded to my request to be shown the castle. The first room was

* The Earl of Derby's domain.

the housekeeper's kitchen, as clean and bright as possible. "Whatever speck of dust might have had the rashness to think of settling on any part of that immaculate kitchen, must at once have hidden its diminished head, after peeping in. It was scrubbed and whitewashed into snow. We followed the dame first into the dining-room. I ought to tell you, however, that this castle was built in 1100, and for five hundred years tras possessed by the Cliffords. It was erected, soon after the Norman Conquest, by ilobert do llomeli, and was tho birthplace of the celebrated Anno Clifford, Countess of Dorset, of Pembroke, and of Montgomery, the lady having mhrricd three earls successively with these titles. Cromwell battered it with his guns, when it was garrisoned for Charles I., and we saw the hill where h« established these guns. The Countess's last descendant was the Earl of Thanet ; and the present possessor is Sir Richard Tufton, who represents the last earl. One portion only is made habitable. Tho dining-room was lighted at one end by a bo\vwindow, set with small panes. It was hung with crimson and white-, and had tables and sideboards of oak, and the ceiling was frescoed in arabesque patterns. From the dining-room wo went up a broad staircase into tho drawing-room. This was the size of tho whole round tower. It was hung with gobelin tapestry, worked by the ladies of the Clifford famil}'. Over the fireplace was a portrait of Oliver Cromwell, in early manhood, a much fairer

SKIPTON CASTLE. H

and handsomer face of him than I had seen before. "

Two portraits of the renowned Countess, one in perfect womanhood and one in old age, also adorned the walls. Opposite the fin- pi ace was a large family picture of the Duke of Cumberland and his Duchess and two sons. These were the father ajid mother and brothers of the famous Countess. The Duke was in armor, and just taking leave- for a battle ; and his wii'e stands pointing to her children, as much as to say, " What will they do without their father V" From the very broad windows of this drawing-room are beautiful views of the hills and country. From the drawing-room AVO ascended to the state bedchamber. This was quite in disarray. There were some tall folding-doors, leaning against the walls, which once adorned the dining-room, and upon them the Countess was again painted in full length ; and round her, in small sixe, hung her three husbands. Here also was a little child's portrait, in what looked to have been once a gorgeous dress, holding an apple in his hand. The housekeeper said that his lordship had choked himself to death with that apple ; and then she remarked, " He was not very wise !'' and soon she added, " He was an idiot." These walls also were hung with gobelin tapestry, representing the various tortures of the Inquisition ! What a subject for art ! Crowds of monks and nuns were present, the monks and familiars administering the various tortures, and the mns looking on! These tapestries were wrought by nuns. In this room stood a chair of state, a sort of throne once belonging to Mary, Queen of Scots, an<J. so we sat down on it. It was superb once with richly gilded leather and crimson cloth. Two bedsteads, without furniture, stood on one side, and the housekeeper said they were memorable for something, but she did not know what. No doubt some royal personages had occupied them aforetime. On the floor, against tho wall, stood the portrait of a young girl, a sister of Cromwell. Wo do not know why Cromwell seems to prevail in tho castle. Sir Richard Tuftou resides mostly in Paris, and is seldom here except for a few days at a time. We then passed through another bedchamber, furnished as if it *ould bo slept in, and with no legend to it ; and after a short sojourn again in tho dining-room, wo proceeded to the more ancient, or rather unniodernizod, parts of the castle ; — to the guard-room, kitchens, apartments with no distinctive name, and to the vast judgment-hall, where now, once a year, tho tenants dine. The fireplace is enormous, and along the entire length was a row of chandeliers to light the revellers. We crept up a narrow, dark stairway to the roof of one tower, and had a splendid view of tho whole country. Skipton is in quite a hollow — in an amphitheatre of high hills. From tho battlements J stooped, and plucked a branch of a tall,

old yew-tree (a bit of which I enclose). It is eight hundred years old.

SKIPTON CASTLE. 18

P. S. — It is noon of Saturday the llth. We have just returned from Bolton Abbey, and are on the wing for York. We passed through an inner court of Skipton Castle, in the centre of which the great ancient yew-tree stands. By the side of it is a very old stone font. Over the pointed arched doors ara the escutcheons of the Cliffords and of the Earl of Thanct, carved in stone. Green, damp moss covers the stones of the pavement and the old, old walls. One grander arched doorwny opens from what was once the chief entrance, now closed up. Wo peeped down the dungoona, but did not descend into them. The castle is lower than any other I have seen, only three stories high !

So wo returned to our hotel, and found a glorious fire, and nn extraordinary bookcase of books ; for these books are choice. There is Pickering's beautiful edition of Spenser, a grand volume of all Scott's poems, including our long-sought Bridal of Triermain ; man}' old standard English works, Sterne, etc. ; American novels too, " The Wide, Wide World," and " Queechy," ah me ! and every variety — science, poetry, romance, essays. Good-bye.

LEEDS, April llth.

JlY DEAR :

Wo arrived at this unlovely town at three, and we have lunched and walked out a few moments, ard we have seen a statue of Sir Robert Peel. Everything is grimy in Leeds, and poor Sir Robert looks like a collier. We did not know which way to turn, nothing looking inviting, and so I thought I would write to 3*011, sitting at a very big table, in a Yery big ladies' saloon. It was a pleasant country from Skiptou to Leeds, through the valley of the Aire, a narrow river, which serpentines about so much that we crossed it five or six times. All around arc high hills, one of them a picturesque crag, which I thought to be a castle, but found it was only a group of rocks called the Druids' Altar. 2^o more time.

YORK. — The Black-Swan Hotel — 8 o'clock, evening. Hi're wo are, then, safe and comfortable in this oldest of cities — rather, this exceeding old city — this wailed Roman town, with its glorious Minster, and on i lie eve of Easter Sunday. We have had " the Qucon's weather """" all the time, and the su~ shone cheerfully as wo drove beneath the great arch under the walls. But now I must go back to Bolton Abbey. We stepped into our barouche at ten. J

*As Her Majesty usually has fine weather when she travels or appears on any great clay, a lair clay is called *' the Queen's weather."

THE PRIORY. 15

begged to mount the box with the coachman, so I wrapped him in papa's great gray shawl, and the white horses started on our winding way. We drove by Skipton Castle's strong walls, and I observed the lower part of a tower, with its buttresses at one angle ; but the upper portion has fallen. The Yorkshire wolds looked bare and hard after the lovely, soft forms of the southern countries ; but they are mostly cultivated, and present delicious, green tints of that golden, sunny shade which we so often see in English lawns.

The orderly stone-walls help to give a hard expression to the country. I hoped there were no such things in England. They look unsympathizing and surly, and as if they bruised nature's fair face. The roads were so up-and-down-wise, that the coachman was perpetually putting on and taking off the drag.

At last wo approached the Priory. First we saw an old inn, apparently very old, and called " Devonshire Arms ;" but we did not stop there. It was but six miles that wo had come, and the horses could perfectly well take us to the Abbey before- resting. Therefore we went on, and drew up at the " Hole-inthe-wall." Through this Hole — a rough gateway — we entered the enchanting valley of the AVharfe. It is said to be the loveliest situation, as regards natural beauty, without help from art, which is to be seen in England. It is indeed of wonderful beauty. Soft, velvet, rolling lawns, round three parts of i6 NOTES TN ENGLAND.

which flows the TVharfe, quite a broad, clear river. Its banks are high, and on the side opposite the lawns rise into lofty hills, and down one of these a silver waterfall made delicious music. As in all these monastic retreats, we seemed, after entering tlie gates, in a safe paradise, with the world shut out, and the peace of heaven around us. No sound but of silver waterfalls and songs of birds. How well the old abbots and priors knew where to ci-ystallize their magnificent ideas of state, repose, and worship into stone ! Thomas a Kempis might here have written his divine sentences, each one so like a translucent drop of that singing, shining fall — including also the infinite serenity of the lawns, and the slumbering sunshine's dim gold. These lawns went waving far away, till they were lost in a broad gleam of the river, toward the west ; and again beyond the river rose the hills, so as to shut all in securely from earthly confusion. The ruins are at the eastern extremity of the site. Of the Abbey, in which the priors and monks lived, not an atom, not a-cruiub remains standing, except one mighty chim- Da^ with its fireplace. All alone and apart it stands, the hearth-stone even gone.

April 12th. — I did not bring my sketch-book ; and, to be sure, if I had, there would not have been time to accomplish anything with the pencil, but yet it seemed impossible to leave the spot without some record. I should like to have drawn each transept, and the beautiful chancel, with its superb, arched

BOLTON PRIORY. 17

window, yet not to be compared to that of Furnesa Abbey. One or two lovely pinnacles were left in this part, from which the ivy hung in wreaths, with a marvellous grace.

We went to the edge of the banks of the "Wharfe to look at the whole effect of the church, and we found the banks delightfully steep, and the river of really good width — a fresh, clear, enchanting river. It is a favorite place for anglers, for of course the monks wished for nice fish for Fridays and Lent, and selected their dwelling-place accordingly. We saw some of the world's young men enter by the " Hole-in-the-wall," with basket and line, and disappear among the rich undulations of the lawn toward the west, while wo stood by the church. After examining the ruined chancel and transepts, we found a man to open for us the porch and nave. The nave is still used for services. I saw the most ancient of men, with another more modern-looking person, digging in a small enclosure, and I asked for a showman. The ancient, who was a bundle of wrinkles, held together by a velvet jacket and smallclothes, rested on his spade, and gazed at me out of his queer little eyes, but spoke never a word. Ho resembled one of the gothic gurgoyles which are carved on the cloisters and at the springing of . the arches of cathedrals. A very cheerful, jolly verger came, with his key, from a house quite near the ruin, and a great blemish to tho scene. We entered the nave, which is entirely peculiar in my experience ; for it has columns only on one side, heavy, vast columns, — and but thrde, supporting almost round arches, so that to rue it looked like half a nave, or a church cut down the middle and half gone. Five or six tall windows, filled with brilliantly painted glass, were opposite the columns. The roof was of unceiled, dark oak, with carved, heraldic devices at the crossings of the vaulted arches. Over the altar hung an oil-painting of Christ bearing the cross, very poor ; and upon the altar hung a heavy, crimson velvet cloth, just like a pall. On one side of the altar was a small chapel, under which bodies were found buried upright. Wordsworth probably referred to this when he sung,

" Look down and see a grisly sight — A vault, where the corpses are buried upright ; There, face by face, and hand to hand, The Claphams and Maulevcrcrs stand. And there, in his place, betwixt son and sire, Stands John dc Clapham, that fierce Esquire, A valiant man and a man of dread, In the ruthless wars of the "White and Red ; Who dragged Earl Pembroke from Banbury church, And smote off his head on the stones of the porch."

No other chapel is left entire. There is a part of a piscina remaining in that one. After we had seen everything else, the verger went mysteriously into a private nook, and with tender care brought out two pieces of ancient, painted glass. On one was a lamb, and on the other a dragon. The colors were

BOLTON PRIORY. 19

of wonderful richness, especially the greens, like the soul of an emerald. There was one stain of ruby-red, also very gorgeous, and a yellow, like sunshine. I wish I could have taken at least the lamb ; but, dear me ! I might as well have laid my head on the block at once. It seems papa was in fear that I would drop this lamb on the stone pavement, at which catastrophe he looked to have the great nave explode, and blow us all into fragments. But both bits were safely restored to their hiding-places, and then wo were invited into a tiny vestry, and requested to record our names. The man, with great pride, exhibited to me, in a former volume of names, that of the late queen Adelaide. I asked where Victoria's was, but he said Her Majesty had never been there. In the porch lay several finely sculptured bits of stone, and one of them was beautified with moss in a marvellous manner.

Certainly beauty seems to haunt these old abbej'S, and to place her magic finger, in especial love, where decay encroaches. My earnest hope always is that all may remain as it now is. This church and property, for six miles, belongs to the Duke of Devonshire, and it is a perpetual curacy. He skilfully restores a little at times to keep it extant, and if he would only raze the house I mentioned as being a blemish, and would kindly demolish the modern part of his own hunting-lodge, I could ask no more of him. The centre of this hunting-lodge is the very grand old gateway of the Priory, which would look altogether magnificent if it stood alone, as it ought. But the duke has built two wings of apartments, of no particular order of architecture, and of a most impertinent, brave newness. How his grace could be so wanting in taste and sense of fitness, I cannot imagine. If I had been a fairy, with a wand, not one moment longer would those intrusive, yellow wings have spread themselves out on cither side the stately gateway, as if to fly away with it. It should again become the entrance to the grounds ; and after that were accomplished, my wand should annihilate every trace of the dwellinghouse. It was the greatest pity in the world, that we had not time to go to the Strid, a narrow passage rent by the river Wharfe through a bed of solid rock. It was there that the boy Egremont was drowned, of whom Wordsworth speaks in the poem called " The White Doe of Kylstone." Also he has written a poem, " The Force of Prayer ; or, the Founding of Bolton Priory," in which is the story of this disaster.

" Young Romilly through Bordcn Woods

Is ranging high and low ; And holds a greyhound in a leash To let slip upon buck or doe.

" The pair have reached that fearful chasm,

How tempting to bestride !

The lordly AVIiarfc is there pent in "\Vilh rocks on either side.

" The St riding-place is called THE STRID, A name which it took of yore:

BOLTON PRIORY. 21

A thousand years has it borne that name, And shall a thousand more.

" And hither is young Romilly come ;

And what may now forbid That he, perhaps fur the hundredth time, Shall bound across THE STUID?

"He sprang in glee, for what cared ho That the river was strong, and the rocks were steep? — But the greyhound in the leash hung back, And chocked him in his leap.

" The boy is in the arms of Wharfc,

And strangled by a merciless force; For never more was young Itomilly seen Till he rose a lifeless corse."

And BO his mother founded this Priory in memory of her sorrow. The Strid was but a mile from the Abbey, but our hour was spent, and we were obliged to lose it, as well as a ruined fortress of the Cliffords, near by.

Thus wo left this paradise through the " Hole-inthe-wall ;" and as our barouche had not come, we walked on, and sent J to order it to be in readiness at the inn upon our arrival there.

There was a thousand-year-old yew-tree in the road, with enormous gnarled trunk ; and on one side the head of a great lion has grown out — a very perfect head, viewed from one side. The mouth is open, and some wag has put between its gaping jaws a large, flat, oval paving-stone, to represent a tongue. It would be better away, for doubtless the old lien is roaring, and there is no occasion for a tongue lopping out, like that of a thirsty clog. It looks as if it were cut by art, it is so expressive, and ti *ort of yellow moss represents the mane.

The carriage met us before wo arrived at the inn, and just before a few diamond drops fell through the sunshine. Our carriage was filled up from Skipton to Castlefort. At Castlcfort several persons alighted, and at another station we took in a man who told us a great deal. Ho pointed out to us the beautiful ruins of Kirkstall Abbey, this side of Le.eds, very near the railway track. If it ever had seclusion, it is open to the tumult, noise, and grimness of the world now, just on the wayside. What an object was Leeds ! Thousands of monumental chimneys belching the blackest, foulest smoke — the atmosphere laden with abominations — multitudes of churches, endeavoring to shoot up their spires and tower above defilement — endless rows of ugly houses for the work-people — not a handsome house for anybody— piles of manufactories, heaps of coal and brick and rubbish of all kinds — and a hopeless look of there being no end to it, and that nothing could ever be clean any more. This was Leeds, as we saw it, till we rushed into an enormous station, and could see nothing else for the present.

Five minutes after four, we came on to York. The country grew very much flatter as wo approached the city. Vast plains stretched out on every side, so unvarying, that I began to read the " Illustrated Times." Before this, however, I observed that the

YORK.— THE CATHEDRAL. 23

birch-trees had put forth their pale, lovely, green leaves, which rejoiced my heart. I read till I was summoned to see the walls of York, and immediately the train was swallowed up in a station three times as large as that at Leeds. We entered through the Tudor arch. A cabman, with a face exactly like dough just beginning to become bread, still quite white, took us to the " Black Swan," which he affirmed was one of the best York hotels. The Black Swan arches its dusky neck over the door, and the landlady, in trailing black-silk robes, enacted the Black Swan in the hall, and consigned us to a maid, who was to show us our rooms. We had a nice large parlor, with a bow-window; and two chambers contiguous, and a good little dressing-room with a fireplace.

April 13/A. — We ordered a sort of dinner-tea, and then walked out on Saturday evening to look at the Cathedral — outside, at least. It is quite near the Black Swan. I was at first disappointed that it was not in tho midst of a vast close, like Salisbury Cathedral, because it was nearly impossible to get a complete view of it all at once. It is mighty in size, and needs a respectful distance from which to view it ; anc\ I had an idea that its spires pierced the stars, and found that they seemed low in proportion to the extent of tho building. Here my growling ends. It is sufficiently magnificent to satisfy any reasonable mortal. York should not have crowded round it so intrusively. On one side only is there

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24 JVTOT£» JflT ENGLAND.

any space, and therein stand the houses of the Dean and of the resident Canon, one of them quite palatial. I think it was the Dean who cleared away this breathing-place, thanks be to his memory. It is wonderful how much these stupendous works owe to individuals. The exterior is all incrusted with sculptures, gurgoyles, and statues. Yet there are liimimerable niches and stalls with no statues. Some may have fallen, but some were never filled. I hope \ future Archbishop or Dean may fill them all, beif-use it would make it so gorgeously rich. Fretted pinnacles rise from every part, and borders of foliage uid arabesque mouldings, and very singular projectng figures — animals and human half-forms, rushing )ut hcri/ontally like waterspouts. An old man acjosted us before the south entrance, and asked us £ wo had ever seen their fiddler. Thinking he must some poor ancient, still alive, we told him wo tad not time to see him now, it was so late in the ivening. " Oh, but you must look at him," he urged, hobbling along before us ; and when we were it tho right spot, ho turned and pointed to the ugliest pinnacle over tho marigold window. There, o bo sure, in remote solitude, stood tho fiddler, nth his fiddle snug under his left ear, and the bow u his right hand. I do not know how many foot ho eally measures, but ho looks about eighteen inches ligh. " Many a person conies to York," said tho >U1 man, " who never sees tho fiddler." Bo, then, we came home to dinner, and were served

YORK MINSTER. 25

by a grave butler, instead of by a maid as at Skipton ; having been received at the door, also, by a youthful waiter with immaculate neck-tie, shining hair, and spotless black body-coat.

The Black Swan haunts the hall and staircases, and whenever I meet her she says some polite thing ; but she is not lovely, and I think she makes even the grave butler hop and run sometimes ; for she is evidently a fierce swan, beneath her folding shawl and long train.