Chapter II: Part 2

The difficulty of raising trees where there two such enemies as the cutting winds from the sea and a numerous breed of rabbits, deters the proprietors of estates from planning the number of hills which at present lay waste; there is, also, another unfortunate circumstance that attends planting, which is the slow growth of timber. The first expence is considerable and there is certainly some hazard, particularly where there are such enemies as before-mentioned, but if it was attended to with care, there is no doubt, but in time, it would much more than repay the cost.

It is true, that the profits to the present possessor of an estate are not very great. He seldom begins to plant till half his life is spent, but admitting that he begins at the age of thirty or forty, and chuses to sell his estate at fifty or sixty, the growth of twenty or thirty thirty years, even if it was little better than underwood, would certainly considerably augment its value, betides the improvement on the score of picturesque beauty, which is by no means inconsiderable and not to be overlooked.

On a hill called Toll's-Hill, not far from the house, is a very fine echo. This spot, literally speaking, is only a small portion of a range of hills running towards Syderstrand; they command at all points a good view of the sea, and in particular parts come into very decent composition. By descending into the vallies, the hills are brought to fold over each other, and the land between them and the sea, which forms the second distance, being interspersed with cottages and a few trees, (though the latter are scarce articles so near the sea) renders the situation in many parts very picturesque.

These hills are situated a small distance out of the beaten track, but the lover of nature in order to see her to the greatest advantage must often deviate from the high road, where indeed he will seldom see her to his taste; not but a high road, under some circumstances, has the power of affording much amusement and of making an excellent picture, but, generally speaking, beautiful nature like humble modesty, retires from the general gaze and must be sought for in seclusion.

_Section the Eighth_.

BLICKLING, late the seat of the Earl of Buckinghamshire, but now of the Honourable Asheton Harbord, must from its external appearance command the attention of the passing traveller, as also from its having been the birth place of a Queen of England, Anne Bulleyn wife of Henry the Eighth. It is a noble old building in the gothic taste, having a square turret at each corner and one more lofty in the center with a cupola and clock. The entrance from the court yard (on each side of which are ranged the offices in the same stile of building with the house) is over a bridge, of two arches, across the moat, through a gate house and small inner court, and is very striking in its appearance; from this you enter the hall 42ft by 33ft and 33ft in height. The staircase, which is ornamented with small figures carved in wood, branches off to the right and left having a gallery of communication at the top, where are full length statues of Anne Bulleyn and Queen Elizabeth.

From the hall you proceed to the anti-room 22ft square, where are portraits of Sir John Hobart, Sir Henry Hobart, Sir Robert Rich, Sir William Lemon, General Cope and Sir John Maynard. The portrait of Sir John Hobart is exceedingly fine, that of Sir Henry is striking as it brings to our memory his unfortunate death, occasioned by a duel with Mr. Le Neve, upon Cawston Heath, where a square monumental stone marks the spot where the event took place.

The portrait of Sir Robert Rich is singular by a black patch over one of the eyes. From this you proceed to the dining room, over the chimney piece of which are the arms of the family well carved with this motto

_Qua supra Anno Do_. 1627.

Lady Buckingham's dressing room is adorned with prints; adjoining to it is Lord Buckingham's bed room in which is a double size chintz bed with a curtain falling down in the center. This bed is placed in an alcove, supported by four pillars.

THE STUDY,

33ft by 21ft is a charming room, entirely calculated for comfort, being furnished with a selection of the best authors, some excellent drawings and a piano forte; out of this apartment is the

ORGAN ROOM,

in which is a carved chimney piece rather curious; from this room you again enter the hall and proceed upstairs to the tapestry room. The tapestry from which it takes its name does not appear to be remarkably fine. The next apartment is the

OLD DINING ROOM,

on each side the fire-place are portraits at full of the present King and Queen, by Sir Joshua Reynolds. The late Lord Townshend, Sir Charles Brighthead, the Countess of Suffolk, the Earl of Leicester and Sir Robert Walpole. In this room is the chair of state, in which James the second sat when at Dublin, it was given to the late Lord Buckingham when at Clanbrassil, in 1792. To look at this chair, which by the bye, certainly conveys an idea of state in poverty, one can scarcely suppress a smile; it is made, I believe, of no better materials than wainscot, covered with a common crimson stuff, and so high that unless James had been possessed of the legs of an O'Brien, it is utterly impossible they should ever have reached the floor. From this room you pass through two dressing rooms the latter is Lady Caroline's, adorned with prints, from which you proceed to the

NEW DRAWING ROOM,

42ft by 25ft and 22ft in height; it is hung with pink sattin, the ceiling stucco, richly but lightly ornamented, having the four corner compartments with that in the middle (from which is suspended a beautiful glass chandelier) stained with a delicate pink which has good effect; and harmonizes well with the other parts of the room. One end of this charming apartment is adorned with a figure in tapestry, as large as life, of the Czar Peter, whose attitude with that of the horse is excessively spirited and fine; the back-ground to this noble performance, which is said to be needle-work, represents all the confusion of a battle, which the Czar is supposed to be directing, he is without a hat, his hair is black and bushy and his eyes which are black and uncommonly piercing, added to a well-turned head, have given all that fire and animation to his countenance which his situation would seem to call forth. This superb ornament was given to the late Lord Buckingham by the Empress of Russia.

At the other end, of the same size, is a very fine painting of George the Second, also, on horse-back. On each side the fire-place are whole length portraits, of Lord and Lady Buckingham, by Gainsborough. The chimney piece is very fine. Adjoining this room is the

STATE BED CHAMBER,

33ft by 21ft which is fitted-up upon an equal scale of magnificence; the bed which is of crimson damask, ornamented at the head with the arms of the royal family, is placed under an alcove, supported by four fluted pillars of white and gold, corresponding with the other parts of the room, which is hung with white tabby, the mouldings, cornice, ceiling, &c. richly ornamented with gilding.

Under a very splendid looking-glass stands a beautiful marble table, on a gilt frame, and over the chimney-piece (which is unfortunately not in a good situation) is an exceeding fine portrait of Judge Hobart, in his robes; this, with the portrait of Sir John Hobart before mentioned, I think carries every appearance of having been executed by Holbein.

From these two truly beautiful apartments, you are carried to the library, which does not in my opinion answer the ideas which we are led to form from its general character. Its length, which is 125ft, when compared with its breadth, which is only 22ft, renders it merely a strip; it is, however, well calculated for a dancing-room, to which purpose, I believe, it has been chiefly applied. The ceiling is stucco, divided into five compartments, which are relieved with emblematical figures of the five senses.

Having particularized the principal things within, you proceed to the park, which is very extensive and profusely adorned with wood. It has the advantage, also, of a fine piece of water, nearly a mile in length and in its broadest part four hundred yards; the northern bank is richly fringed with wood, from which you view the opposite side of the lawn, which rises gradually for a considerable space, broken at intervals by large plantations of oak and beach. A banqueting room, to which is attached a tower commanding an extensive prospect, terminates the view very agreeably.

About a mile from the house stands the mausoleum, a freestone building in the form of a pyramid, in which are deposited the remains of the late Lord Buckingham and his first lady. Its situation is very happily chosen in the midst of a large and venerable wood, whose solitude appears only to be broken by the prying curiosity of the stranger or the foot-steps of the nimble deer.

In the church, which stands very near the house and contiguous to the public road from Aylsham to Holt, are many inscriptions and effigies in brass, some few monuments and a handsome tomb of the Clere's and the Boleyn's. In a vault, under the north aisle, are deposited nineteen of the relations and ancestors of the late Earl of Buckingham, amongst whom are his father and mother, with the Honourable Henry Hobart before mentioned; the coffins are placed in upright positions and most of them covered with black or crimson velvet. The late Lady Buckingham was interred in a vault in the chancel, but upon the death of her lord her remains were taken up and conveyed to the mausoleum.

Blickling is distant but a mile and a half from Aylsham, a neat market-town, with an excellent neighbourhood; it is situated on the river Bure, which is navigable to Yarmouth, for boats of thirteen tons burthen; its distance from Norwich, over a turnpike road, is, eleven miles, and the same from Cromer and Holt.

The road from Aylsham to Cromer is very pleasing, the country all the way rich, woody and fertile. In Erpingham field the views are extremely pleasing, and within a mile of Cromer the road is highly picturesque, it winds through a hollow way well ornamented with trees, whose long arms meeting across the road frequently form themselves into arches, through which the sea breaks in at intervals with the finest effect.

A lane often presents the painter with admirable studies for foregrounds, they are, more generally than any other parts of nature, set off with rugged old pollards, stretching their long arms athwart the road, their furrowed trunks and twilled branches being enriched with stains and mosses of all hues, from the light grey and brilliant yellow to the dark green approaching to black. The bank it shelters at the same time, affording a cool retreat to the cow, the sheep and the ass, any of which are highly picturesque; and the relief given to them, particularly if the bank is rather steep and broken, by the richness of the soil, which is, also, sometimes hollowed into little recesses overhung with moss, roots and trailing plants, is beyond conception. With materials as simple as these does Morland produce the most enchanting effect; indeed, we are always inclined to be pleased with a performance in proportion as it approaches nature, provided the objects are well selected. Morland's pictures are her very counterpart, they possess so much character and are handled with such spirit, that it is impossible for the spectator, fond of rural scenes, to examine them without feeling the most lively interest in the subject.

The opposition between the foliage of young and old trees, the colouring of their barks and the ramification of their boughs, are circumstances of great picturesque effect. A beautiful young ash, for instance, never appears to greater advantage than when, tinged with the autumnal frosts, it is opposed to the dark green foliage of the venerable oak, from whose robust form it seems to implore protection; heightened by contrast, the beauties of each are set forth in the strongest point of view, and afford an instance where the greatest opposition, both in form and colour, are exhibited in nature, and may be equally so in a picture, without in the smallest degree violating the principles of harmony.

Figures in a road are another great source of amusement, and whether in motion or at rest, are equally pleasing; they create an interest in the mind by being strongly contrasted with inanimate objects. If at some distance, we are naturally led to enquire who they may be or what their employment; and if a single figure happens to be reclining upon the bank or leaning upon his staff, we probably form in our imagination the subject of his thoughts.

The devious and irregular windings of a lane, well stored with such picturesque appendages, keep up a continual expectation; something new opens at every step, the form of every object is varied, the lights and shadows, also, are varied in the same proportion; sometimes through a fortunate opening in the fence a cottage displays its humble roof; at other times a rich distance bursts upon the view, receiving a double charm from its unexpected appearance.

Such accidental circumstances give the lane a considerable advantage over the more extended prospect, to obtain which it is perhaps necessary to travel over many miles of uninteresting country.

_Section the Ninth_.

WOOLTERTON, the seat of the Right Honourable Lord Walpole, is an elegant, modern built, mansion, situated in a large park, well ornamented with wood and water, but too flat to be possessed of very great beauty. At a short distance from the house, is a ruin highly picturesque, the tower of a church, of which no part else remains; it is a beautiful small fragment, but appears to be too much skreened by the ordinary fir trees with which it is encompassed, and which seem worse than they really are, by being every where surrounded with fine timber.

The house is said to be ornamented with a considerable quantity of tapestry, of superior excellence, particularly some chairs, upon the seats of which are exhibited the fables of AEsop.

I have never seen the inside of Woolterton, and, indeed, of the park I am qualified to say but little, having surveyed it in a very casual way; but from what I have seen and from the report of others, it appears to be a residence worthy of its noble owner, who generally resides on the spot, and whose private character is highly estimable.

_Section the Tenth_.

IN returning from Holt to Cromer, the traveller is merely brought through Upper Sherringham, which is distanced something more than a mile from that which is denominated Lower Sherringham, situated upon the edge of the cliff.

So miserable are both these places in themselves, that they could hardly be supposed to contain any thing worth the attention, but as it frequently happens that those things which at first so much disgusted, afterwards upon a familiar acquaintance, put on a more favourable appearance, and in the end become objects of delight, I flatter myself that if the villages of Upper and Lower Sherringham are so unfortunate as to be incapable of claiming attention, their environs, in point of scenery, will amply make up the deficiency.

Passing through Upper Sherringham from Cromer, leaving the Holt road on the left, the traveller is carried past the house of Cooke Flower, Esq. the proprietor of the beautiful estate which affords the materials that serve to compose this section. The situation of which is by no means a letter of recommendation to the scenes he is approaching. It is not the house but the grounds about it that demand attention, therefore it is to be hoped that his disappointment, if symptoms of that kind are excited, will vanish as he proceeds.

This estate, properly speaking, comes under the denomination of an adorned farm, by which declaration, I have to request that my readers will not be alarmed by the fear of being led through a succession of scenes too frequently disgusting, by an ostentatious display of trifling puerilities; the nicest taste will not be offended, yet it is adorned, but it is adorned after nature's model.

Like the rest of this part of the Norfolk coast, it consists of uneven ground rising into bold swells, which by the assiduity and perseverance of the late Mr. Flower are now richly clothed with wood from their summits to their base, and united by the most elegant slopes to the rich vallies that divide them.

Some of these woods appear thick and impenetrable, while others more open discover through their foliage the most luxuriant and inviting turf, tempting the traveller oppressed with the heat of a summer's sultry sun, to exclaim in the language of THOMPSON

"Still let me pierce into the midnight depth
Of yonder grove, of wildest largest growth;
That, forming high in air a wood land quire,
Nods o'er the mount beneath. At every step,
Solemn and flow, the shadows blacker fall,
And all is awful listening gloom around."

Among these truly sylvan scenes the sea unfolds its ample bosom; under every circumstance of variation it is an object of awful grandeur; but, perhaps, in its more peaceful moments, when its surface is unruffled by the wind, it is best adapted to scenes like these, where all is harmony and repose.

Here too, at certain seasons of the year, the flock roams at large; the wood, the hill, and the valley, are alike subject to the impression of its wandering feet, and scattered in groupes over the landscape add greatly to its beauty.

The picturesque figure of the shepherd attended by his dog, the faithful companion of his solitary hours, in whatever situation we find him, whether collecting his scattered flock or indolently stretched at ease upon the verdant turf, are circumstances of the most pleasing kind.

"Amid his subjects safe,
Slumbers the monarch-swain, his careless arm
Thrown round his head, on downy moss sustain'd;
Here laid his scrip, with wholesome viands fill'd;
There, lift'ning every noise, his watchful dog."

Neither must we forget the rural situation of the shepherd's cottage; this subject has often been the theme of authors, both in fiction and reality; here happily it has in reality the very situation we should wish it to enjoy, sunk in the bosom of its wood crowned hills, it appears though a lowly cot, the very mansion of peace.

By this description, I do not mean the cottage placed by the hand of art, and made merely to suit the situation, but the real residence of humble industry, solely for use, not ornamented, and which time has naturalized to the soil it occupies. This gives it double value; its moss-grown thatch and time-stained walls are both in colour and form in perfect harmony with the objects that surround it, and, the knowledge that it is really the habitation of the peasant, though we see not its inhabitants is congenial with our feelings, and aid the delusions which such scenes impress upon the senses. Connexion of objects which ought to be the prevailing principle in every kind of decoration, is too often the last circumstance that is attended to; by connexion I mean that objects ought to be adapted to the situation they are intended to occupy, both in form and colour; and this principle holds good almost in an equal degree in the internal parts of a house, as in those decorations which are employed about the pleasure grounds.

In painting it is a general rule that no invention, drawing or execution, can make amends for want of harmony; a single predominant colour out of place destroys the effect of a picture. It is the same in a real landscape, any object out of place, or that does not connect with the scene, or even admitting that it is well situated if its construction be disagreeable, or what is worse its colour, it becomes offensive, it fixes the attention to the spot and disgusts in proportion as it has the power of obtruding itself on the view.

The approach from hence to Weybourn, another village upon the sea coast, is highly picturesque. An ancient ruin of part of the monastic church, adjoining the parish church, from its peculiar stile of building may be worth the attention of the curious in the researches of antiquity, though it is capable of affording but little to the sketch book of the artist.

From Weybourn instead of returning to Cromer by the same road, the traveller will keep along the edge of the sea coast, having on his right hand the woods which he had before passed between.

By this route he is carried to Lower Sherringham, where there is a good house of entertainment, with rooms so delightfully situated, that at high water you may actually conceive yourself at sea; indeed, there is scarcely a foot path left between the house and the cliff, and no little care has been taken to exclude it from the rude embrace of that boisterous element.

Hither parties are frequently formed for the purpose of eating lobsters, where they are to be had in the same perfection as at Cromer. A small share of that variety is also furnished for which human nature pants so eagerly.

The beach spreads before its wanderers the same inviting surface and the sea as noble an expanse as at Cromer. Here, too, they may either invoke the Nereides or admire the sublime and splendid beauties of a summer's sun, setting in the ocean, a circumstance which Thompson has noticed with exquisite accuracy and equal elegance.

"Low walks the sun, and broadens by degrees
Just o'er the verge of day; the shifting clouds
Assembled gay, a richly gorgeous train,
In all their pomp attend his setting throne.
Air, earth, and ocean, smile immense. And now,
As if his weary chariot fought the bowers
Of Amphitrite and her tending nymphs;
(So Grecian fable sung) he dips his orbs;
Now half immersed; and now a golden curve
Gives one bright glance, then total disappears."

[Picture: Decorative graphic of a tree and tombstone with Finis on it]

ERRATA. {82}

Page 8 For the autumnal equinox, read _in_ the autumnal,
&c.
-- 14 For water, read _waters_.
-- 29 For obsurity read _obscurity_.
-- 37 For massed with age, read _mossed_.
-- 38 For in is read in _his_.
-- 42 For composes, read _compares_.
-- 54 For distance, read _distant_.
-- 68 For set of, read set _off_.
-- 76 For wildest, largest growth, read _of_ wildest, &c.

* * * * *

PRINTED BY JOHN PARSLEE, HOLT.

FOOTNOTES.

{9} I wish it was in my power to say, that scenes of this nature always terminated so favourably; but a most fatal instance happened to the contrary at Cromer, in the afternoon of the 2nd of February, 1799. About three o'clock a boat with a number of men was seen making toward the shore--the surf on the beach was dreadful, and it was the general opinion that the boat could not live through it--and it was but too just!--for it no sooner came amongst the breakers than the first sea half filled it, and another quickly following before it could right, it carried the boat, in an instant, with its unfortunate crew, to the bottom. A boat from the shore had before been launched to give them assistance if possible--but it was in vain; the hazard was so imminent that the trial was ineffectual; only two out of twelve souls escaped; the captain and a poor boy--the latter was taken up to all appearance dead and was with great difficulty recovered. These unfortunate men were Danes, their vessel laden with timber had struck upon a sand the night before this melancholy catastrophe, and they had taken to their boat as a desperate resource to save their lives, which were almost exhausted for want of sustenance, not having been able to come at any food from the state of the ship for the two preceding days.

{33} Ruinated structures (says Shenstone) appear to derive their power of pleasing from the irregularity of surface, which is variety, and the latitude they afford the imagination to conceive an enlargement of their dimensions or to recollect any events or circumstances appertaining to their pristine grandeur.

{36} All trees have a character analogous to that of men. Oaks are in all respects the perfect image of the manly character. In former times I should have said, and in present times I think I am authorised to say, the British one, as a brave man, is not suddenly either elated by prosperity or depressed by adversity;--so the oak displays not its verdure on the sun's first approach nor drops it on his first departure. Add to this its majestic appearance, the rough grandeur of its bark and the wide protection of its branches.

A large branching oak is, perhaps, the most venerable of all inanimate objects.

_See Shenstone's Essay on Gardening_.

{41} By this I do not mean to insinuate that Beckham Church Yard has any claim to the honour of having given birth to that beautiful elegy, but to infer that its merits as an elegant ruin, joined to its sequestered solitude, might place it upon the footing of no mean rival to those that have disputed the pre-eminence.

{45} Whoever has seen King's College Chapel or any other building where there is a profusion of painted glass and where the other parts are fitted up with Norway oak, the colour of which is dark brown, must have perceived a visible effect produced by the solemnity of its appearance. In all churches having any claim to antiquity the light appears to have been sparingly introduced, and to me it has always a very pleasing effect.

{52} An accident in painting is an obstruction of the sun's light by the interposition of clouds in such a manner that some part of the earth shall be in light, and others in shade, which, according to the motion of the clouds, succeed each other, and produce such wonderful effects and changes of the claro-obscuro as seem to create so many new situations.

This is daily observed in nature and as this newness of situations is grounded only on the shapes of the clouds, and their motions, which are very inconstant and unequal, if follows, that these accidents are arbitrary; and a painter of genius may dispose of them to his own advantage when he thinks fit to use them.

_See Mons. du Piles_.

{82} The errata has been applied to this eBook.--DP.