has gnawed one of the stones, you see the mark of his
tooth just as plainly in the sunken reflection. Each is so
perfect, that the upper vision seems a castle in the air,
and the lower one an old stronghold of feudalism, mirac-
ulously kept from decay in an enchanted river.
A ruinous and ivy-grown bridge, that projects from the
bank a little on the hither side of the castle, has the effect
ABOUT WARWICK
59
of making the scene appear more entirely apart from the
every-day world, for it ends abruptly in the middle of the
stream, so that, if a cavalcade of the knights and ladies
of romance should issue from the old walls, they could
never tread on earthly ground, any more than we, ap-
proaching from the side of modern realism, can overleap
the gulf between our domain and theirs. Yet, if we
seek to disenchant ourselves, it may readily be done.
Crossing the bridge on which we stand, and passing a
little farther on, we come to the entrance of the castle,
abutting on the highway, and hospitably open at certain
hours to all curious pilgrims who choose to disburse half
a crown or so toward the support of the earl's domestics.
The sight of that long series of historic rooms, full of such
splendors and rarities as a great English family neces-
sarily gathers about itself, in its hereditary abode, and in
the lapse of ages, is well worth the money, or ten times
as much, if indeed the value of the spectacle could be
reckoned in money's-worth. But after the attendant has
hurried you from end to end of the edifice, repeating a
guide-book by rote, and exorcising each successive hall
of its poetic glamour and witchcraft by the mere tone in
which he talks about it, you will make the doleful dis-
covery that Warwick Castle has ceased to be a dream.
It is better, methinks, to linger on the bridge, gazing at
Caesar's Tower and Guy's Tower in the dim English
sunshine above, and in the placid Avon below, and still
keep them as thoughts in your own mind, than climb to
their summits, or touch even a stone of their actual sub-
stance. They will have all the more reality for you, as
stalwart relics of immemorial time, if you are reverent
enough to leave them in the intangible sanctity of a
poetic vision.
From the bridge over the Avon, the road passes in
front of the castle-gate, and soon enters the principal
street of Warwick, a little beyond St. John's School-
house, already described. Chester itself, most antique
of English towns, can hardly show quainter architectural
shapes than many of the buildings that border this street.
They are mostly of the timber-and-plaster kind, with
60 OUR OLD HOME
bowed and decrepit ridge-poles, and a whole chronology
of various patchwork in their walls; their low-browed
door-ways open upon a sunken floor; their projecting
stories peep, as it were, over one another's shoulders, and
rise into a multiplicity of peaked gables ; they have curi-
ous windows, breaking out irregularly all over the house,
some even in the roof, set in their own little peaks, open-
ing lattice-wise, and furnished with twenty small panes
of lozenge-shaped glass. The architecture ot these
edifices (a visible oaken framework, showing the whole
skeleton of the house, as if a man's bones should be
arranged on his outside, and his flesh seen through the
interstices) is often imitated by modern builders, and
with sufficiently picturesque effect. The object:'-: n is,
that such houses, like all imitations of bygone styles,
have an air of affectation ; they do not seem to be built
in earnest ; they are no better than playthings, or over-
grown baby-houses, in which nobody should be expected
to encounter the serious realities of either birth or death.
Besides, originating nothing, we leave no fashions for
another age to copy, when we ourselves shall have grown
antique.
Old as it looks, all this portion of Warwick has over-
brimmed, as it were, from the original settlement, being
outside of the ancient wall. The street soon runs under
an arched gateway, with a church or some other vener-
able structure above it, and admits us into the heart of
the town. At one of my first visits, I witnessed a mili-
tary display. A regiment of Warwickshire militia, prob-
ably commanded by the Earl, was going through its drill
in the market-place; and on the collar of one of the
officers was embroidered the Bear and Ragged Staff,
which has been the cognizance of the Warwick earldom
from time immemorial. The soldiers were sturdy young
men, with the simple, stolid, yet kindly, faces of English
rustics, looking exceedingly well in a body, but slouching
into a yeoman-like carriage and appearance, the moment
they were dismissed from drill. Squads of them were
distributed everywhere about the streets, and sentinels
were posted at various points; and I saw a sergeant,
ABOUT WARWICK 61
with a great key in his hand, (big enough to have been
the key of the castle's main entrance when the gate was
thickest and heaviest,) apparently setting a guard. Thus,
centuries after feudal times are past, we find warriors
still gathering under the old castle-walls, and commanded
by a feudal lord, just as in the days of the King-Maker,
who, no doubt, often mustered his retainers in the same
market-place where I beheld this modern regiment.
The interior of the town wears a less old-fashioned
aspect than the suburbs through which we approach it ;
and the High Street has shops with modern plate-glass,
and buildings with stuccoed fronts, exhibiting as few
projections to hang a thought or sentiment upon as if an
architect of to-day had planned them. And, indeed, so
far as their surface goes, they are perhaps new enough
to stand unabashed in an American street ; but behind
these renovated faces, with their monotonous lack of ex-
pression, there is probably the substance of the same old
town that wore a Gothic exterior in the Middle Ages.
The street is an emblem of England itself. What seems
new in it is chiefly a skilful and fortunate adaptation of
what such a people as ourselves would destroy. The
new things are based and supported on sturdy old things,
and derive a massive strength from their deep and im-
memorial foundations, though with such limitations and
impediments as only an Englishman could endure. But
he likes to feel the weight of all the past upon his back ;
and, moreover, the antiquity that overburdens him has
taken root in his being, and has grown to be rather a
hump than a pack, so that there is no getting rid of it
without tearing his whole structure to pieces. In my
judgment, as he appears to be sufficiently comfortable
under the mouldy accretion, he had better stumble on
with it as long as he can. He presents a spectacle
which is by no means without its charm for a disinter-
ested and unencumbered observer.
When the old edifice, or the antiquated custom or
institution, appears in its pristine form, without any
attempt at intermarrying it with modern fashions, an
American cannot but admire the picturesque effect pro-
62 OUR OLD HOME
duced by the sudden cropping up of an apparently
dead-and-buried state of society into the actual present,
of which he is himself a part. We need not go far in
Warwick without encountering an instance of the kind.
Proceeding westward through the town, we find our-
selves confronted by a huge mass of natural rock, hewn
into something like architectural shape, and penetrated
by a vaulted passage, which may well have been one of
King Cymbeline's original gateways ; and on the top of
the rock, over the archway, sits a small, old church,
communicating with an ancient edifice, or assemblage
of edifices, that look down from a similar elevation on
the side of the street. A range of trees half hides the
latter establishment from the sun. It presents a curious
and venerable specimen of the timber-and-plaster style
of building, in which some of the finest old houses in
England are constructed ; the front projects into porticos
and vestibules, and rises into many gables, some in a
row, and others crowning semi-detached portions of the
structure ; the windows mostly open on hinges, but
show a delightful irregularity of shape and position ; a
multiplicity of chimneys break through the roof at their
own will, or, at least, without any settled purpose of the
architect. The whole affair looks very old, so old,
indeed, that the front bulges forth, as if the timber
framework were a little weary, at last, of standing erect
so long ; but the state of repair is so perfect, and there
is such an indescribable aspect of continuous vitality
within the system of this aged house, that you feel con-
fident that there may be safe shelter yet, and perhaps
for centuries to come, under its time-honored roof.
And on a bench, sluggishly enjoying the sunshine, and
looking into the street of Warwick as from a life apart,
a few old men are generally to be seen, wrapped in long
cloaks, on which you may detect the glistening of a
silver badge representing the Bear and Ragged Staff.
These decorated worthies are some of the twelve brethren
of Leicester's Hospital, a community which subsists
to-day under the identical modes that were established
for it in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, and of course
ABOUT WARWICK 63
retains many features of a social life that has vanished
almost everywhere else.
The edifice itself dates from a much older period
than the charitable institution of which it is now the
home. It was the seat of a religious fraternity far back
in the Middle Ages, and continued so till Henry VIII.
turned all the priesthood of England out-of-doors, and
put the most unscrupulous of his favorites into their
vacant abodes. In many instances, the old monks had
chosen the sites of their domiciles so well, and built
them on such a broad system of beauty and conven-
ience, that their lay-occupants found it easy to convert
them into stately and comfortable homes ; and as such
they still exist, with something of the antique reverence
lingering about them. The structure now before us
seems to have been first granted to Sir Nicholas Le-
strange, who perhaps intended, like other men, to estab-
lish his household gods in the niches whence he had
thrown down the images of saints, and to lay his hearth
where an altar had stood. But there was probably a
natural reluctance in those days (when Catholicism, so
lately repudiated, must needs have retained an influence
over all but the most obdurate characters) to bring one's
hopes of domestic prosperity and a fortunate lineage
into direct hostility with the awful claims of the ancient
religion. At all events, there is still a superstitious idea,
betwixt a fantasy and a belief, that the possession of
former Church-property has drawn a curse along with
it, not only among the posterity of those to whom it
was originally granted, but wherever it has subsequently
been transferred, even if honestly bought and paid for.
There are families, now inhabiting some of the beautiful
old abbeys, who appear to indulge a species of pride in
recording the strange deaths and ugly shapes of misfor-
tune that have occurred among their predecessors, and
may be supposed likely to dog their own pathway down
the ages of futurity. Whether Sir Nicholas Lestrange, in
the beef-eating days of Old Harry and Elizabeth, was a
nervous man, and subject to apprehensions of this kind,
I cannot tell ; but it is certain that he speedily rid him-
6 4
OUR OLD HOME
self of the spoils of the Church, and that, within twenty
years afterwards, the edifice became the property of the
famous Dudley, Earl of Leicester, brother of the Earl
of Warwick. He devoted the ancient religious precinct
to a charitable use, endowing it with an ample revenue,
and making it the perpetual home of twelve poor, honest,
and war-broken soldiers, mostly his own retainers, and
natives either of Warwickshire or Gloucestershire. These
veterans, or others wonderfully like them, still occupy
their monkish dormitories and haunt the time-darkened
corridors and galleries of the hospital, leading a life of
old-fashioned comfort, wearing the old-fashioned cloaks,
and burnishing the identical silver badges which the
Earl of Leicester gave to the original twelve. He is
said to have been a bad man in his day ; but he has suc-
ceeded in prolonging one good deed into what was to
him a distant future.
On the projecting story, over the arched entrance,
there is the date, 1571, and several coats-of-arms, either
the Earl's or those of his kindred, and immediately
above the door-way a stone sculpture of the Bear and
Ragged Staff.
Passing through the arch, we find ourselves in a quad-
rangle, or enclosed court, such as always formed the
central part of a great family residence in Queen Eliza-
beth's time, and earlier. There can hardly be a more
perfect specimen of such an establishment than Leices-
ter's Hospital. The quadrangle is a sort of sky-roofed
hall, to which there is convenient access from all parts
of the house. The four inner fronts, with their high,
steep roofs and sharp gables, look into it from antique
windows, and through open corridors and galleries along
the sides ; and there seems to be a richer display of
architectural devices and ornaments, quainter carvings
in oak, and more fantastic shapes of the timber frame-
work, than on the side toward the street. On the wall
opposite the arched entrance are the following inscrip-
tions, comprising such moral rules, I presume, as were
deemed most essential for the daily observance of the
community : " Jfytmtn all iHnt " " jpear @ot) " " ^cmor tfye
ABOUT WARWICK 65
" "!L0&e tfje 23r0tfjErfj00fc "; and again, as if this latter
injunction needed emphasis and repetition among a
household of aged people soured with the hard fortune
of their previous lives, " 38e femtilg affecttonEti one to
another." One sentence, over a door communicating
with the Master's side of the house, is addressed to that
dignitary, " ^e tfyat rulctfj c&er men must be just." All
these are charactered in old English letters, and form
part of the elaborate ornamentation of the house. Every-
where on the walls, over windows and doors, and at all
points where there is room to place them appear
escutcheons of arms, cognizances, and crests, emblazoned
in their proper colors, and illuminating the ancient quad-
rangle with their splendor. One of these devices is a
large image of a porcupine on an heraldic wreath, being
the crest of the Lords de Lisle. But especially is the
cognizance of the Bear and Ragged Staff repeated over
and over, and over again and again, in a great variety
of attitudes, at full-length and half-length, in paint and
in oaken sculpture, in bas-relief and rounded image.
The founder of the hospital was certainly disposed to
reckon his own beneficence as among the hereditary
glories of his race ; and had he lived and died a half-
century earlier, he would have kept up an old Catholic
custom by enjoining the twelve bedesmen to pray for the
welfare of his soul.
At my first visit, some of the brethren were seated
on the bench outside of the edifice, looking down into
the street ; but they did not vouchsafe me a word, and
seemed so estranged from modern life, so enveloped in
antique customs and old-fashioned cloaks, that to con-
verse with them would have been like shouting across
the gulf between our age and Queen Elizabeth's. So
I passed into the quadrangle, and found it quite solitary,
except that a plain and neat old woman happened to be
crossing it, with an aspect of business and carefulness
that bespoke her a woman of this world, and not merely
a shadow of the past. Asking her if I could come in,
she answered very readily and civilly that I might, and
said that I was free to look about me, hinting a hope,
66 OUR OLD HOME
however, that I would not open the private doors of the
brotherhood, as some visitors were in the habit of doing.
Under her guidance, I went into what was formerly the
great hall of the establishment, where King James I.
had once been feasted by an Earl of Warwick, as is
commemorated by an inscription on the cobwebbed and
dingy wall. It is a very spacious and Harn-like apart-
ment, with a brick floor, and a vaulted roof, the rafters of
which are oaken beams, wonderfully carved, but hardly
visible in the duskiness that broods aloft. The hall may
have made a splendid appearance, when it was deco-
rated with rich tapestry, and illuminated with chande-
liers, cressets, and torches glistening upon silver dishes,
where King James sat at supper among his brilliantly
dressed nobles ; but it has come to base uses in these
latter days, being improved, in Yankee phrase, as a
brewery and wash-room, and as a cellar for the breth-
ren's separate allotments of coal.
The old lady here left me to myself, and I returned
into the quadrangle. It was very quiet, very handsome,
in its own obsolete style, and must be an exceedingly
comfortable place for the old people to lounge in, when
the inclement winds render it inexpedient to walk abroad.
There are shrubs against the wall, on one side ; and on
another is a cloistered walk, adorned with stags' heads
and antlers, and running beneath a covered gallery, up
to which ascends a balustraded staircase. In the por-
tion of the edifice opposite the entrance-arch are the
apartments of the Master; and looking into the win-
dow, (as the old woman, at no request of mine, had
specially informed me that I might,) I saw a low, but
vastly comfortable parlor, very handsomely furnished,
and altogether a luxurious place. It had a fireplace
with an immense arch, the antique breadth of which
extended almost from wall to wall of the room, though
now fitted up in such a way that the modern coal-grate
looked very diminutive in the midst. Gazing into this
pleasant interior, it seemed to me, that, among these
venerable surroundings, availing himself of whatever
was good in former things, and eking out their imperfec-
ABOUT WARWICK 67
tion with the results of modern ingenuity, the Master
might lead a not unenviable life. On the cloistered
side of the quadrangle, where the dark oak panels made
the enclosed space dusky, I beheld a curtained window
reddened by a great blaze from within, and heard the
bubbling and squeaking of something doubtless very
nice and succulent that was being cooked at the
kitchen-fire. I think, indeed, that a whiff or two of
the savory fragrance reached my nostrils ; at all events,
the impression grew upon me that Leicester's Hospital
is one of the j oiliest old domiciles in England.
I was about to depart, when another old woman, very
plainly dressed, but fat, comfortable, and with a cheer-
ful twinkle in her eyes, came in through the arch, and
looked curiously at me. This repeated apparition of
the gentle sex (though by no means under its loveliest
guise) had still an agreeable effect in modifying my
ideas of an institution which I had supposed to be of
a stern and monastic character. She asked whether I
wished to see the hospital, and said that the porter,
whose office it was to attend to visitors, was dead, and
would be buried that very day, so that the whole estab-
lishment could not conveniently be shown me. She
kindly invited me, however, to visit the apartment occu-
pied by her husband and herself ; so I followed her up
the antique staircase, along the gallery, and into a small,
oak-panelled parlor, where sat an old man in a long
blue garment, who arose and saluted me with much
courtesy. He seemed a very quiet person, and yet had
a look of travel and adventure, and gray experience,
such as I could have fancied in a palmer of ancient
times, who might likewise have worn a similar costume.
The little room was carpeted and neatly furnished; a
portrait of its occupant was hanging on the wall ; and
on a table were two swords crossed, one, probably,
his own battle-weapon, and the other, which I drew half
out of the scabbard, had an inscription on the blade,
purporting that it had been taken from the field of
Waterloo. My kind old hostess was anxious to exhibit
all the particulars of their housekeeping, and led me
68 OUR OLD HOME
into the bedroom, which was in the nicest order, with a
snow-white quilt upon the bed ; and in a little interven-
ing room was a washing and bathing apparatus, a
convenience (judging from the personal aspect and at-
mosphere of such parties) seldom to be met with in the
humbler ranks of British life.
The old soldier and his wife both seemed glad of
somebody to talk with ; but the good woman availed
herself of the privilege far more copiously than the
veteran himself, insomuch that he felt it expedient to
give her an occasional nudge with his elbow in her well-
padded ribs. " Don't you be so talkative ! " quoth he ;
and, indeed, he could hardly find space for a word, and
quite as little after his admonition as before. Her
nimble tongue ran over the whole system of life in the
hospital. The brethren, she said, had a yearly stipend,
(the amount of which she did not mention,) and such
decent lodgings as I saw, and some other advantages,
free ; and, instead of being pestered with a great many
rules, and made to dine together at a great table, they
could manage their little household matters as they
liked, buying their own dinners, and having them
cooked in the general kitchen, and eating them snugly
in their own parlors. " And," added she, rightly deem-
ing this the crowning privilege, " with the Master's per-
mission, they can have their wives to take care of them ;
and no harm comes of it; and what more can an old
man desire ? " It was evident enough that the good
dame found herself in what she considered very rich
clover, and, moreover, had plenty of small occupations
to keep her from getting rusty and dull ; but the veteran
impressed me as deriving far less enjoyment from the
monotonous ease, without fear of change or hope of
improvement, that had followed upon thirty years of
peril and vicissitude. I fancied, too, that, while pleased
with the novelty of a stranger's visit, he was still a little
shy of becoming a spectacle for the stranger's curiosity ;
for, if he chose to be morbid about the matter, the estab-
lishment was but an almshouse, in spite of its old-fashioned
magnificence, and his fine blue cloak only a pauper's
ABOUT WARWICK 69
garment, with a silver badge on it that perhaps galled
his shoulder. In truth, the badge and the peculiar
garb, though quite in accordance with the manners
of the Earl of Leicester's age, are repugnant to
modern prejudices, and might fitly and humanely be
abolished.
A year or two afterwards I paid another visit to the
hospital, and found a new porter established in office,
and already capable of talking like a guide-book about
the history, antiquities, and present condition of the
charity. He informed me that the twelve brethren are
selected from among old soldiers of good character,
whose other resources must not exceed an income of
five pounds ; thus excluding all commissioned officers,
whose half-pay would of course be more than that
amount. They receive from the hospital an annuity of
eighty pounds each, besides their apartments, a garment
of fine blue cloth, an annual abundance of ale, and a
privilege at the kitchen-fire ; so that, considering the
class from which they are taken, they may well reckon
themselves among the fortunate of the earth. Further-
more, they are invested with political rights, acquiring a
vote for member of Parliament in virtue either of their
income or brotherhood. On the other hand, as regards
their personal freedom or conduct, they are subject to
a supervision which the Master of the hospital might
render extremely annoying, were he so inclined; but
the military restraint under which they have spent the
active portion of their lives makes it easier for them to
endure the domestic discipline here imposed upon their
age. The porter bore his testimony (whatever were its
value) to their being as contented and happy as such
a set of old people could possibly be, and affirmed that
they spent much time in burnishing their silver badges,
and were as proud of them as a nobleman of his star.
These badges, by-the-by, except one that was stolen and
replaced in Queen Anne's time, are the very same that
decorated the original twelve brethren.
I have seldom met with a better guide than my friend
the porter. He appeared to take a genuine interest in
7 o OUR OLD HOME
the peculiarities of the establishment, and yet had an
existence apart from them, so that he could the better