Читать книгу The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 10, No. 279, October 20, 1827 - Various - Страница 1

On the borders of Ashdown Forest, in the county of Sussex, stands the above picturesque ruin of Brambletye House, whose lettered fame may be dated from the publication of Mr. Smith's novel of that name, in January, 1826. The ruin has since attracted scores of tourists, as we were, on our recent visit, informed by the occupier of the adjoining farm-house; which circumstance coupled with the high literary success of Mr. Smith's novel, has induced us to select Brambletye House for the illustration of our present number.

Brambletye, or, as it is termed in Doomsday Book, Brambertie House, after the conquest, became the property of the Earl of Mortain and Cornwall, forming part of the barony then conferred upon him, and subsequently denominated the honour of the eagle. Passing into possession of the Andehams, Saint Clares, and several others, it came into the occupation of the Comptons, towards the beginning of the seventeenth century; and from the arms of that family impaling those of Spencer, still remaining over the principal entrance, with the date 1631 in a lozenge, it is conjectured that the old moated edifice (represented in the annexed vignette) which had hitherto been the residence of the proprietors, was abandoned in the reign of James I., by Sir Henry Compton, who built the extensive and solid baronial mansion, commonly known by the name of Brambletye House.

"From their undaunted courage and inflexible loyalty to the Stuarts," says the novelist, "the Comptons had been heavy sufferers, both in purse and person, during the eventful progress of the civil wars. The Earl of Northampton, the head of the family, and nephew to Sir Henry, the presumed builder of Brambletye, had four sons, officers under him, whereof three charged in the field at the battle of Hopton Heath, and the eldest, Lord Compton, was wounded. The Earl himself, refusing to take quarter from the rascally Roundheads, as he indignantly termed them, even when their swords were at his throat, was put to death in the same battle; and the successor to his title, with one of his brothers, finally accompanied the royal family in their exile. Sir John Compton, a branch of this family, having preserved much of his property from the committee of sequestration, displayed rather more splendour than fell to the lot of most of the cavaliers who took an equally conspicuous part against the parliament armies. Although never capable of any regular defence, yet the place being hastily fortified, refused the summons of the parliamentarian colonel, Okey, by whom it Was invested; but it was speedily taken, when sad havoc was committed by the soldiery, all the armorial bearings, and every symbol of rank and gentility, being wantonly mutilated or destroyed."

In the time of the commonwealth, Brambletye was the focus of many a cavalier conspiracy. "From its not being a place of any strength or notice, it was imagined that Brambletye might better escape the keen and jealous watchfulness, which kept the protector's eye ever fixed upon the strong holds and defensible mansions of the nobility and gentry; while its proximity to the metropolis, combined with the seclusion of its situation, adapted it to any enterprize which required at the same time secrecy, and an easy communication with the metropolis."

In the novel just quoted, which is altogether a pleasant assemblage of historical facts, aided by the imaginative garniture of the author, the denouement is brought about by the explosion of a gunpowder vault which destroyed part of the mansion; and on the marriage of his hero and heroine Brambletye House was abandoned to its fate; "and the time that has intervened since its desertion," says our author, "combining with the casualty and violence by which it was originally shattered and dismantled, has reduced it to its present condition of a desolate and forlorn ruin."

A visit to Brambletye was the immediate object of our journey, and though a distance of thirty-three miles, we considered ourselves amply requited by the pensive interest of the scene and its crowded associations. In our childhood we had been accustomed to clamber its ruins and tottering staircases with delight, not to say triumph; heedless as we then were of the historical interest attached to them. After a lapse of a score and – years, the whole scene had become doubly attractive. A new road had been formed from East Grinstead to Forest Row, from which a pleasant lane wound off to Brambletye. We are at a loss to describe our emotions as we approached the ruin. It was altogether a little struggle of human suffering. Within two hundred years the mansion had been erected, and by turns became the seat of baronial splendour and of civil feuds,—of the best and basest feelings of mankind;—the loyalty and hospitality of cavaliers; the fanatic outrages of Roundheads; and ultimately of wanton desolation! The gate through which Colonel Lilburne and his men entered, was blocked up with a hurdle; and the yard where his forces were marshalled was covered with high flourishing grass; the towers had almost become mere shells, but the vaulted passages, once stored with luxuries and weapons, still retained much of their original freshness. What a contrast did these few wrecks of turbulent times present with the peaceful scene by which they were surrounded, viz. a farm and two water-mills—on one side displaying the stormy conflict of man's passion and petty desolation—and on the other, the humble attributes of cheerful industry. We strove to repress our feelings as we entered the principal porch, where by an assemblage of names of visiters scribbled on the walls, and not unknown to us, we learnt that, we were not the first to sympathize with the fate of Brambletye!

Within these few years, through a sort of barbarous disregard for their associations, the lodge and the greater part of the wall represented in our engraving, has been pulled down! and the moated house has lately shared the same fate—for the sake of their materials—cupidity in which we rejoiced to hear the destroyers were disappointed—their intrinsic worth not being equal to the labour of removing them: the work of destruction would, however, have extended to the whole of the ruins had not some guardian hand interfered. It will be seen that the moated house was furnished with a ponderous drawbridge and other fortifying resources; from the licentious character of its founders it was consequently haunted many years before its removal.

In East Grinstead we learned that the Comptons were a noble family, and traditions of their hospitality are current amongst the oldest inhabitants of that town.1