windows, bay windows, I think, of the kind his lordship describes in his essay Of Building . This house cost nine or ten thousand pounds to build. There are good chimneypieces, the rooms very lofty and all very well wainscoted. There are two bathing rooms, where his lordship used to retire in the afternoon. All the chimney tunnels run into the middle of the house and there are seats round about them. The kitchen, larder, cellars, etc. are underground. In the middle of the house is a delicate wooden staircase, curiously carved, a pretty figure on the posts of every interstice: a grave divine with his book and spectacles, a mendicant friar, etc. – never the same thing twice. The doors of the upper storey are painted dark umber, and decorated with the figures of the Gods of the Gentiles: Apollo, Jupiter with his thunderbolt, bigger than life-size and done by an excellent hand. The heightening is of hatchings of gold, which make a glorious show when the sun shines on them. The top of the house is well leaded, and looking out from the leads there is a lovely prospect to the ponds, opposite the east side of the house, and the stately walk of trees that leads to Gorhambery House. The view over that long walk of trees, whose tops afford a most pleasant variegated verdure, reminded me of tapestry works in Irish-stitch.
I felt myself a marvelling stranger in this house. When I had at last finished looking at the entertaining view from the top balcony, I turned to return into the room, and was mighty surprised to see another prospect of ponds, walks and countryside through the house. The servant who was showing me around had quietly closed a mirrored door behind me, so thus was I gratefully deceived by a looking glass. This was his lordship’s summer-house – he says in his essay Of Building that one should have seats, like clothes, for summer and winter: ‘Lucullus answered Pompey well, who, when he saw his stately galleries and rooms so large and lightsome in one of his houses, said, “Surely an excellent place for summer, but how do you in winter?” Lucullus answered, “Why, do you not think me as wise as some fowl are, that ever change their abode towards the winter?”’
The ponds are now overgrown with flagges and rushes, but in his lordship’s time they were filled with clear water, through which coloured pebbles arranged in the shapes of fishes, etc. could be seen. If a poor person brought his lordship half a dozen pebbles of curious colour, he would give them a shilling, so interested was he in perfecting his four acres of fish-ponds. In the middle of the middlemost pond, on the island, is a curious banqueting house of Roman architecture, paved with black and white marble, covered with Cornish slate, and neatly wainscoted.
Then I went a further mile to Gorhambery to see Lord Bacon’s winter-house and park. The way ascends easily, inclining no more than a desk. Three parallel walks run between the two houses: through the middle one, three coaches may pass abreast, two through each of the wing-walks. Stately trees of similar growth and height line the walks: elms, chestnuts, beeches, hornbeams, Spanish ash, cervice-trees, etc. Their leaves form the variegated verdure pattern I saw from the balcony. At this time of year, the colour of their leaves is most varied.
Gorhambery House is large 12 , well built, and Gothic; I think his lordship’s father, Sir Nicholas Bacon, built it. His lordship added a grand portico, which fronts the garden to the south. Inside every arch of this portico are emblematical pictures. One of the most striking is a ship tossed in a storm, with the motto: Alter erit tum Tiphys (there will be another Tiphys). Above the portico is a stately gallery, all its windows are painted: each pane of glass with several figures of beast, bird or flower. The gallery is hung with pictures of King James, his lordship, and other illustrious figures of their time. These figures, like the Gods on the doors at
I felt myself a marvelling stranger in this house. When I had at last finished looking at the entertaining view from the top balcony, I turned to return into the room, and was mighty surprised to see another prospect of ponds, walks and countryside through the house. The servant who was showing me around had quietly closed a mirrored door behind me, so thus was I gratefully deceived by a looking glass. This was his lordship’s summer-house – he says in his essay Of Building that one should have seats, like clothes, for summer and winter: ‘Lucullus answered Pompey well, who, when he saw his stately galleries and rooms so large and lightsome in one of his houses, said, “Surely an excellent place for summer, but how do you in winter?” Lucullus answered, “Why, do you not think me as wise as some fowl are, that ever change their abode towards the winter?”’
The ponds are now overgrown with flagges and rushes, but in his lordship’s time they were filled with clear water, through which coloured pebbles arranged in the shapes of fishes, etc. could be seen. If a poor person brought his lordship half a dozen pebbles of curious colour, he would give them a shilling, so interested was he in perfecting his four acres of fish-ponds. In the middle of the middlemost pond, on the island, is a curious banqueting house of Roman architecture, paved with black and white marble, covered with Cornish slate, and neatly wainscoted.
Then I went a further mile to Gorhambery to see Lord Bacon’s winter-house and park. The way ascends easily, inclining no more than a desk. Three parallel walks run between the two houses: through the middle one, three coaches may pass abreast, two through each of the wing-walks. Stately trees of similar growth and height line the walks: elms, chestnuts, beeches, hornbeams, Spanish ash, cervice-trees, etc. Their leaves form the variegated verdure pattern I saw from the balcony. At this time of year, the colour of their leaves is most varied.
Gorhambery House is large 12 , well built, and Gothic; I think his lordship’s father, Sir Nicholas Bacon, built it. His lordship added a grand portico, which fronts the garden to the south. Inside every arch of this portico are emblematical pictures. One of the most striking is a ship tossed in a storm, with the motto: Alter erit tum Tiphys (there will be another Tiphys). Above the portico is a stately gallery, all its windows are painted: each pane of glass with several figures of beast, bird or flower. The gallery is hung with pictures of King James, his lordship, and other illustrious figures of their time. These figures, like the Gods on the doors at
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