MISCELLANY
28
THOMAS
FROGNALL DIBDIN’S CULTURAL TOUR OF LINCOLNSHIRE (1818): II
A
Day’s Expedition from Grantham to Belvoir Castle, Lincolnshire. Dibdin is staying at Carlton Scroop, a little
village just outside Grantham.
Reverting to our plans, it was resolved that
Belton, Syston, and Belvoir Castle, should occupy one long and entire morning.
We rose, if not quite with the lark, yet in time to pay our respects at Belton
Rectory, the residence of the Hon. and Rev. Richard Cust, (Earl Brownlow's
brother)—at the distance of four miles—by ten o'clock. And what a residence
!" What a rectory!" exclaimed my young friend; "but we ought not
to envy." There was no need: for my friend's quarters were snug, in
excellent condition, well stored in larder and cellar comforts, and only
standing in need of... to render it in all respects attractive. His windows in
front want something like architraves . . . but "Rome was not built in a
day." The reader must go back to Belton, and to its truly elegant, and
sweetly situated, Rectory. A small serpentine stream—the Witham —intersects the
grounds, which are gently undulating, and well covered with goodly trees :—
Umbram hospitalem consociare amant Ramis.
Qua pinus ingens albaque populus
And then the limited, but well laid out
dress-garden in front, where stately holyoaks, and thick clustering roses,
alternately catch and cheer the sight. The house (of which the owner is the
architect) is a recent structure, admirably adapted, on a scale not too
extended, to answer every purpose of domestic comfort. Still, however, like the
residence of the Rector of Carlton Scroop, it seemed to stand in need of... Mr.
Cust was so obliging as to chaperone us round the village, to the church, and
to the residence of his brother, the Earl. It was, in all respects, a most
gratifying little excursion.
On a nearer acquaintance with the village, the
houses seemed to be more interesting and appropriate: all evidently conformable
to the master-direction of the noble landlord. The trellised rose or
honeysuckle usually adorned their fronts. It was agreed to visit the small, but
ancient church, where the ashes of the Brownlow Ancestry repose. In fact, from
its extreme smallness, owing to the scanty population— which occupies but few
benches and pews—this church may be considered the Mausoleum of Earl Brownlow's
family. On entrance, the antiquary will be well pleased to see a fine sturdy
specimen of the Norman shaft of a pillar, on the support of which the whole
roof should seem to depend. Two recesses, or oratories, or chapels,
repositories for the dead, (call them as you will) face the visitor on his
entrance. In one of these stands the matchless piece of sculpture of Canovds
figure of Religion : being the exact model for a colossal statue, twenty-five
feet high, to have been placed upon the summit of a chapel at Rome; a plan
which was never carried into effect. Here, the figure is quite lofty enough;
measuring six feet nine inches in height: but, placed upon a pedestal, looking
scarcely above six feet. It is the most enchanting and spirit-moving figure I
ever beheld: but I own that I could have wished the gilt radii, encircling the
head, away. They are intrusive; discomposing the simplicity and solemnity of
all the other parts of the figure. The right hand is raised to heaven, and the
left arm receives a cross, which leans against it for all in all, and it were
useless to look abroad for its rival in this country. It is all over sweetness
and piety, mingled with reverential awe. It is itself a temple, where
devotional ardour may be kindled, and holy resolutions formed. When you leave
such a spot, to mingle with the gross and annoying realities of life, your soul
seems to be cast down and disquieted, "and your spirit to be vexed within
you." You feel something like an indescribable inspiration, on looking
long and steadily upon the statue of Religion chiselled by Canova. Below it is
an impassioned inscription, by the present Earl Brownlow, to the memory of his
first Countess. In the adjacent recess there is a piece of monumental sculpture
of a very different character, and description. It is that of Sir John
Brownlow, Bart, and his wife, executed in 1679. The upper halves of the figures
only are seen, with something like the pediment of a balcony below. This
affectionate couple are shaking hands with each other, in the most hearty
manner, as if one of the parties had just returned from a long absence; and it
is joyous to behold them in such good humour with each other. The head-dresses,
rigidly faithful to the time, help to increase the interest taken on a
contemplation of this "loving couple." From the church, the worthy
Rector was so good as to conduct us to the house, through the garden. The day
was unpropitious to appreciate the latter correctly, for the clouds began to
gather, the winds to blow, and the external beauties of nature seemed likely to
be soon enveloped in rain and mist. I would now be understood to speak of the
flowergarden and conservatory, of which the laying out of the former was by the
present Earl's first wife, and the latter was the work, and may be well deemed
the boast, of Sir Jeffry Wyatvile. Nothing can be more sweetly conceived and
perfectly executed. The trellis-work is at once tasteful in form and delicate
in execution. Here are "flowers of all hue," from the graceful
convolvulus, in its varied and deepening tints, to the pigmy pink. Here they
fill up the interstices, with a sort of crowded and bespangled gaiety, which
cannot be surpassed: and then, how the ground-surface is gemmed with everything
which may rivet the attention, and delight the imagination !—for here you shall
fancy the fairies to resort by moonlight; now skimming over the pellucid
fountain in the centre, now revelling upon the adjacent lawn, and now reposing
within the resplendent cactus, protected by its curtains of scarlet velvet, and
its fringes of deep virgin gold. Larger and more costly flower-gardens I have
seen; but none of a more tasteful arrangement, or composed of more interesting
materials. We proceed to the House. Its roof and battlement (the latter
judiciously restored by the present Earl) are of the style as well as the time
of Louis XIV. It is throughout a roomy, comfortable, family mansion. All the
chambers are well assorted together, and the entrance-hall is spacious, without
being preposterously large. There are some good family pictures, amongst which
the Rt. Hon. John Brownlow, Viscount Tyrconnel, by Jervase, does not make the
figure which, from the eulogy of Pope, one would be led to expect. I had never
before seen a production of Jervase; and it is well that it is not placed by
the side of Sir Joshua's full-length portrait of the Speaker Brownlow. There is
a wholelength figure of William III. in the room adjoining that in which he
slept, and where his bed and its furniture, eighteen feet in height, quickly
arrest the attention,—of which I do not remember any engraving. His majesty
stands, on looking, to the right of a table, with both arms extended towards
the crown, which lies upon it. The whole is painted in a low and somewhat
ochery tone; but it is the most animated and intellectual head of the monarch
with which I am acquainted. He is, for once, without armour, and without a
truncheon. Here are some good Sir Godfrey Knellers; and above stairs a small
head of Henry VII. in oil, upon panel, of remarkable delicacy and force of
expression. It is evidently from life, and must be deemed of considerable
interest and value. There is also an excellent Flemish picture of an old man
laughing, on discovering that some one had made away with the contents of a
pie, on which he should seem to have fixed his affections. The chapel, of
cedar, is chaste and correct throughout; while the stately old red velvet
chairs are worthy of cardinals to occupy. The diningroom, much superior to that
in its immediate vicinity, is at once spacious and commodious. We will conclude
enriched with sparkling illuminations: of which I had hoped to have gratified
the reader by a fac-simile of the decapitation of St. John ... treated quite in
a sui generis style: but the gratification was not allowed me. Here is a fine
old illuminated missal, perhaps of 1310; but the generality of book-collectors
may prefer opening a copy of Holland's Heroologia, 1600, folio: being a
presentation-copy, by the author himself, To the Right Worsh. Mr. Richard
Brownlow, Esquire. In me morte Of
divers his deceased honorable and Reverend ffriends in this Book. HE. HOLLAND
humbly presents this Booke. Vivit post
funera virtus. One would have
supposed that, if any copy of this very beautiful, but very faithless, work,
had the engravings without the text at the backs of the portraits, it would
have been this copy. But it is not so.
The late
Mr. Clark of Bond Street, the bookseller, had a good deal to do with the
arrangement of this library; and it has been well done. If its noble owner will
only place a few Etruscan vases on the summit of the bookcases, the effect need
not be more perfect. Mr. Cust readily admitted the suggestion to be orthodox.
"Away, away to the mountain's brow!"—and in three minutes we are off
for Syston, close at hand, the residence of Sir John Thorold, Bart, who has
just attained his age of manhood. His grandfather was the builder of the
mansion, and the founder of the library. When a young man, and tingling all
over with bibliomaniacal excitement, how often have I seen, and inserted with
crow-quill, the name of Thorold, as that of a purchaser of precious tomes! What
a figure it cut at the sale of the Pinelli library! And how often did the son
of that founder, the late occupant, invite me to a month's residence with him,
midst the Editiones Primaries and large paper copies of other days! But that
was not to be; and yet, from a recent event, such a visit had been doubly
delectable. Sir Robert Heron, one of the trustees of the property till the
present baronet should attain his majority, was so obliging as to facilitate
every wish expressed; and having long specting Mariette's copy divested of
letter-press; with a notice of the several collections where the original
pictures were to be found.
On quitting Belton Park, we began quickly to ascend,
and, unfortunately, the wind ascended or rose with us. Violent gusts betrayed
an approaching storm; and as we continued to mount precipitously, we began to
have too convincing proofs of the deluge in which we should be shortly
submerged. The horse preserved his footing, sharp and slippery as were the
different ascents; and we neared the residence at a moment when the elements
seemed to have lashed themselves into a whirlwind. The sun was veiled in
darkness, and the distant landscape shrouded in rain. It might have been called
an approach to the temple of the winds, so loftily is the house situated, and
so loudly did the blast blow. But perseverance is a virtue; and my friend, who
held the reins and plied the whip, told me to "take courage, for no danger
was at hand: his Bucey\ possess it coloured. I indulge a fond, and, I trust,
not futile, hope, that the present Baronet will give us an impression of this
latter print, executed in the line manner, as a prefix to a beautifully printed
catalogue of his Library .. which well merits an exclusive notice. f Quasi
" Bucephalum" dicemus. The front facade of Syston house is imposing,
from its extreme length, which includes a noble conservatory, surrounded by a
luxuriant garden. The house stands on the very summit of the hill, for so would
the grandfather of the present baronet ordain it: in studied opposition to the
site of the previous mansion, which, agreeably to the fashion of the more olden
time, was placed in the valley below. Syston, indeed, with some slight
adaptation of poetical expression, may be said, like the Andes in Mr.
Campbell's Pleasures of Hope, to "Look from his throne of clouds o'er half
the shire. For the first quarter of an hour, we could see nothing of the
immense stretch of landscape before us, which was obscured by rain. But, had
the sun shone ever so brightly, there was, to me, "metal more
attractive" within. Hurrying through the hall, dining room, and drawing-room,
(which latter is beautifully arranged and beautifully furnished, full of light
and pleasantsomeness I hurried to the Library. It is perhaps one of the most
splendid and taking book repositories in Europe. I know of no library of which
the taste of the architecture, and the splendour of the furniture, exceeds it:
vases, bronzes, gilt architraves, a painted cieling, and an encircling gallery,
presenting that sort of coup-d'ceil which can scarcely be surpassed. Its length
is sixty feet; its breadth, to the extreme termination of the central bay
window, thirty-two; and its height, to the top of the circular lantern, thirty.
These are noble and well-proportioned dimensions; and although I have seen
longer and broader libraries, I know of none of which the tout-ensemble is more
striking and more resplendent. The sun has got the mastery of the clouds. The
wind is lulled; and a broad and bright stream of sunshine envelopes the
glittering landscape before us. The Books brighten, and seem to put on a look
of joyaunce. They are worthy of the furniture about them, and richly repay a
careful survey and minute examination: both of which I bestowed upon them for
the better part of an hour. I had long known of this library by report; but
fame, so usually apt to exaggerate, had not even rendered it justice. The
Editiones Primaries were necessarily my first object of attack; and rarely have
I encountered a more powerful and serrated phalanx. I singled out one of the
most efficient chieftains,—the Capital Lettered Callimachus, and admiration and
delight increased on every gaze. It is not necessary to particularize at
length, but at the head of the Aldine corps, I place the largest and finest
copy I ever saw of the Greek Septuagint of 1518. Indeed, I may say, that it is
the Only real large paper copy of the book with which I am acquainted; and I
speak from a tolerably long and intimate acquaintance with this noble volume.f
I had only to express Why it was, I know not; but for several years past, and
particularly some fifteen years ago, the late Sir John Thorold was in the habit
of " throwing out" many Aldine volumes of great beauty and marginal
amplitude. Could such have been replaced? This fine book was obtained of
Messrs. Payne and Foss, at the reasonable sum of £36. 15s. my wishes, and a
very intelligent and obliging cicerone, the head valet, gratified them to the
utmost, by spreading out the volumes in succession, as I asked for them. It was
both a goodly and a glorious sight. The ou-spread tail of no peacock could match
it. Here were the early Mentz Bibles, there tbe early Venetian Plinies ; the
Roman Lives stood here, and at hand was the Strasbourg Virgil, by Mentclin.
The Greek Anthology, of 1494, in all its membraneous grandeur, (the successive
property of James Payne, Mr. Robert Heathcote, and Mr. Dent) only wanted its
rival, the Apollonius Rhodius of 1496, in the same materials, to stand by its
side. Of Virgil and of Ovid there was a goodly store of the earlier editions;
and I was pleased to find the late Earl Spencer's first Azoguidi copy of the
latter poet (although in an imperfect state) to be in the circle of such
first-rate society. Although, to an eye accustomed to a twenty-five years'
acquaintance with the Spencer Library, there were here many libri desiderati to
acknowledge, yet, upon the whole, the Syston Collection greatly exceeded my
expectations; and, from leaving, and returning to, my place of his printed
treasures. The more costly its garniture, the better. The closer Art and
Bibliography are entwined, the more delectable the reader's treat. And what
Monument can be more honourable and durable to leave behind? During this close
converse with books, two huge macaws, in the adjacent conservatory, and clad in
such gorgeous plumage as I had scarcely ever seen, were screaming in all the
horrors of dissonance, at the clatter of wind and rain above their heads, upon
the glass casements. At length, the weather seemed likely to settle, and we
caught a glimpse of Belvoir Castle in the distance, while the spire of Grantham
gave interest and effect to the landscape more immediately within view. It was
resolved that no time was to be lost, for Belvoir was full ten miles before us;
and who could tell how the day would close?
The
landlord of the principal inn was told to produce his best tackle, in the
character of a chaise and pair, for Belvoir Castle,—and off we darted, as if
upon the wings of the wind.
To be continued
