1842.] 



THE CIVIL ENGINEER AND ARCHITECT'S JOURNAL. 



I S3 



though he is pleasant on the subject of his flimsy battlements, of which 

 he says he had outlived three generations, he seems unconscious of 

 the vulgar and cockney t.iste displayed in stici;ing up such paltry 

 things at all. In point of taste, indeed, the exterior looks just such 

 another sheepishly-fierce and frowning piece of "femlal castle" archi- 

 tecture as that boK of battlements which has imposed upon no less 

 learned an antiquary than John Britton himself, who — not having, per- 

 haps, a promjiter at his elbow at the moment — has pronounced it, in 

 his publication on Edinburgh, to be — btauti/ul .' 



We will now proceed to examine the Strawberry Hill mansion more 

 methodically and minutely. There is, indeed, one thing in its favour, 

 namelv, that neither externally nor internally does the entrance make 

 any fallacious promise. So very far, indeed, is it from exciting expec- 

 tations to be afterwards succeeded by disappointment, that it rather 

 damps them altogether. You reach the entrance door through a little 

 narrow alley, on oue side of which are three paltry arches in the star- 

 vation-Gothic style, forming what is by courtesy termed a cloister, in 

 which is — perhaps we siiould now say was^<ieposited a queer-looking 

 piece of old crockery ware, which, you are told, was the identical 

 china vase on which the " pensive Selina reclined," the feline female 

 whose memory is embalmed in the stanzas of Gray. We almost 

 wonder, therefore, that this cloister was not called the Cu.'-acomb, a 

 title that might have been bestowed upon it with as much or more 

 propriety than it is upon some of the passages and corners of the 

 Soanean Museum. The mention of the last is, perhaps, somewhat 

 unlucky, since it irresistibly leads us to remark that Soane and Walpole 

 resembled each other in the architectural taste they displayed in their 

 own houses, both of which seem as if put together from fragments 

 picked up at different times at some curiosity shop, and whose several 

 parts, even to mere passages and closets, are dignified with fine names. 

 If in the Soanean one we have the Monk's Parlour, the Monk's 

 Garden, the Shakspeare Recess, the Catacombs, &c., in the other we 

 have the Refectory, Armoury (a landing of the staircase), the Shrine 

 the Cloister, the Abbot's Garden, and so forth; an admirable system 

 for even a blue band box might thus be converted into a Bluebeard' 

 Blue Closet. Let us, however, boldly make our escape from th 

 temptation to say more upon that head. Let us, if we possibly can 

 restrain our pen, and compel it to be less frisky. Just now we talked 

 of being methodical ; alas for promises! There is more madness in 

 our method, we fear it will be thought, than method in our madness. 



As cloister there was to be, it would have been better to have 

 planned it so as to be of some real service, which it would have been, 

 had it been extended and continued (from e in the plan, which indicates 

 the situation of the entrance-door to the house in the ground plan 

 below,) as far as the entrance from the road, nearer than which a 

 carriage cannot come up to the house ; for in that case a comfortable 

 sheltered approach would liave been formed the whole way, oue also 

 that would have contributed — at least, might easily have been made 

 to contribute — very materially to architectural effect as well as con- 

 venience. Or, putting both positive effect -^nd convenience out of the 

 question, the present skulking appearance of the entrance, which hides 

 itself, as it were, in a comer, would have been got rid of. Having 

 passed the threshold, we see little to announce architectural character 

 and style of any sort, until advancing a few paces and turning to the 

 left, we perceive the staircase, and there behold Gothic run mad, and 

 ugly quatre-foil holes for windows, than which nothing can be more 

 unlike anything to be met with in the pointed style, except perhaps 

 here and there in some very rude and uncouth examples. Such things 

 are no better than caricaturing the style pretended to be adopted : 

 ugly in themselves, they have not even the humble merit of being 

 passable copies — well-intentioned, but bunglingly executed. The 

 same may be said of the rest, and the whole is no better than a mere 

 patching together of incoherent bits of design, the only consistency 

 observable being that all is nearly alike paltry, insignificant, and mean 

 in taste ; and how the possessor of Cellini's bell could tolerate such 

 vapid architectural stuff — such mockery of Gothic art — is to ourselves 

 incomprehensible. Passing up a flight higher than the first landing, 

 or that level with the other rooms shown in the plan, we reach a I 



broader one, extended by what is called the Armoury (A), but which 

 may be said to form part of it, it being only a sort of lobby, divided from 

 it merely by three open arches. Of the armour we speak not, but in 

 regard to the Armoury itself, it dues not call up visions of the days of 

 feudalism .ind chivalry, but is likelier to put to flight any dreams about 

 Olranto. The transition from warlike to literary stores is here sudden 

 enough, for, taking leave of helmets and suits of mail, we find ourselves 

 the next moment among books. The library (B) may be termed "a 

 fayre and goodly chambre" as to size, )-et unguodly or bad enough in 

 all reason as to the taste shown in its fittiugs-up. The design of the 

 bookcases is said to be taken from that of the stalls of old St. Paul's, 

 and sure enough, they do look as if the pattern of them had been 

 taken from some ill-drawn old engravings, so meagre and wirv is it in 

 all its lines, so hard and harsh in all its forms. The chimney-piece is 

 borrowed from a tomb in Westminster Abbey ; and the window is 

 borrowed from nothing, but rather looks as if it were itself the original 

 model or type of veritable cockney or carpenter's Gothic. Of such 

 superfluities and encumbrances as mullions and tracerv — which only 

 serve to keep out daylight, and were, therefore, quite in character 

 j during the dark ages — it is perfectly innocent. Still it is in the pointed 

 style, because it forms a great pointed opening in the wall. Besides 

 j this window, there are two little quatre-foil ones over the bookcases 

 at that end of the room, vhich at first sight have very much the 

 appearance of being holes or gaps made by cannon shot. The ceiling 

 is flat, and being painted all over with heraldic devices and compart- 

 ments, looks very much as if it were covered with a Turkey carpet 

 nailed to it. Surely our English Horace might have learnt both from 

 his Roman namesake and from his brother peer Chesterfield, that 

 paltry inconsistency is inexcusable in such matters ; for if it is worth 

 while to do them at all, it is worth while to do them well. Yet 

 Walpole seems to have bad no or little idea of architecture, beyond 

 that of bringing in bits here and there piecemeal, just as if it was not 

 at all necessary to observe any sort of keeping in the design of a 

 room, but doors, windows, chimney-pieces, &c., might look as if they 

 had been picked up at auctions, and afterwards patched up against the 

 walls in the best manner they could. To say the truth, the old- 

 curiosity-shop taste seems to have taken such strong hold of Walpole, 

 that it predominated even in his notions of architecture; and we even 

 sospect that his friend Bentley must have sneered aside occasionally, 

 when he found into what strange sort of architectural companionship 

 his chimney-piece compositions from tombs and Holbein gateways 

 were brought. 



This library, together with the "Refectory" or dining room beneath 

 it on the ground floor, and of the same dimensions, were among the 

 first made by Walpole to the old house ; but although two of the 

 largest among what may be called the sitting-rooms, they are both so 

 detached from the others on the same floor, that thev cannot at any 

 time be made part of the general suite thrown open for company. We 

 must, therefore, descend again, and passing through the small ante- 

 room, C, called the Star-Chamber, from the [lattern on its walls, reach 

 the Holbein chamber, D, so named from its chimney-piece, one of 

 Bentley's compositions above alluded to. In other respects there is 

 nothing particularly Holbeinish in this room, or that confers upon it 

 distinct character of any kind. Lady Morgan, indeed, says of it that 

 it looks like a pet-room of Catherine of Arragon ; but to us it looked 

 rather like one exceedingly petty in taste, in which no attempt has 

 been made to keep up with tolerable consistency any one style. Di- 

 viding off the alcove in which the bed is placed, is a screen of three 

 pointed arches, the centre one left o;)en, the others filled with per- 

 forated foliage — the whole altogether different in design from the 

 chimney-piece and every thing else; and withal of rather too gim- 

 crack and toyish appearance in itself. As to the "royal -looking bed " 

 which Lady Morgan was so fortunate as to behold here, that must 

 have since disappeared, for the one we lately saw struck us as being 

 particularly mean, small, and shabby. Among the "sights" in this 

 room was the Cardinal's hat, a most interesting relic no doubt, and 

 perhaps quite as authentic as some of the highly prized and carefully 

 treasured-up rags of the Virgin Mary's gown ; in short one of those 



