ture,

Is hugely turn'd to architecture."

But Vanbrugh possessed, undoubtedly, the elements of a bold and daring genius.

Among the places that immediately recur to the memory, should be mentioned Cassiobury Park. The gardens were arranged by Le Notre, the disposer of the gardens of Versailles, and the planter of our own parks of St. James's and Greenwich.

"No man," says Evelyn, "has been more industrious than this noble lord in planting about his seat, adorned with walks, ponds, and other rural elegances. The gardens are very rare; and cannot be otherwise, having so skilful an artist to govern them as Cooke, who is, as to the mechanical part, not ignorant in mathematics, and pretends to astrology. There is an excellent collection of the choicest fruit."

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Evelyn adds, with innocent irony, My lord is not illiterate beyond the rate of most noblemen of his age." Lord Essex entered actively into horticultural pursuits, assisting to prune the trees. Loudon says that the buildings and garden-scenery harmonise with each other, being venerable in age, rich in design, and admirable in execution. One singular feature at Cassiobury should not be forgotten-a Chinese garden. It contains a conservatory, a sort of low pagoda, and other ornamental buildings, full of Chinese porcelain, mandarins, figures, paintings, fountains, and gold fish. Very large plants of green and black tea aid the illusion. We may also, although in a digression, notice at the seat of the Marquess of Salisbury, Hatfield House, a beautiful antique flower-garden, "with walks arched over with clipped lime-trees." A terrace-walk of turf separates it from the mansion.

The grounds at St. Anne's Hill were laid out under the eye of Fox, with great taste and beauty; and by the affectionate care of Mrs. Fox, they are kept in excellent order, and some valuable plants are still to be found there. Among the trees are some fine cedars; one was brought by Mrs. Fox, a small plant, in her carriage from Lee's Nursery, about five-and-thirty years ago. Here, also, is one of the very few cone-bearing

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is said to be a most beautiful tree, with pendant branches sweeping the lawn. The cypresses at Percy Cross, Lord Ravensworth's seat, are between seventy and eighty feet high, In that garden, also, is the largest Salisburia in Europe. To return to St. Anne's Hill. The kitchen-garden is happily arranged, being " blended on two sides with the pleasureground; on the opposite two, enclosed by beech-hedges, concealed from the exterior by evergreens." The garden is intersected by grass walks, which give it a very fresh and rural appearance. Upon these interesting subjects Loudon, in his numerous productions upon trees and gardens, should, of course, be diligently consulted. I am indebted to his pen for the following very curious description of a rock-garden, belonging to Lady Broughton :

"The length of the flower-garden, within the rocky boundary, is sixty yards, and the breadth thirty-four yards. The baskets, twenty-seven in number, are in five straight rows; and each basket is a circle, nine feet five inches in diameter. They are made of iron, worked on an iron rod; the rod being placed upon small pegs, to keep the basket to the level of the grass; and they are painted a yellow stone colour, to harmonise with the rocks and the verandah. They stand eight inches above the ground, the grass coming close to the iron rod. The design of the rock-work was taken from a small model representing the mountains of Savoy, with the valley of Chamouni. The walls and the foundation are built of the red sandstone of the country; and the other materials have been collected from various quarters, chiefly from Wales; but it is now so generally covered with creeping and Alpine plants, that it all mingles together in one mass. The outline, however, is carefully preserved; and the part of the model that represents La Mer de Glace is worked with grey limestone, quartz, and spar. It has no cells for plants; the spaces are filled up with broken fragments of white marble, to look like snow, and the spar is intended for the glacier."

This curious rock-work was formed under the direction of Lady Broughton, who devoted nearly eight years to its composition. Rare and beautiful Alpines delight the eye. There is at Red-leaf, near Penshurst, a still lovelier specimen of a rock-garden, to which Nature has herself contri

buted. Mr. Wells has spent a large portion of thirty years in adorning this place. A very interesting account of Red-leaf-the only one, indeed, which I have seen-appeared in the Gardener's Magazine for July 1839. But however ingenious these adaptations or imitations of nature may be, we sometimes almost involuntarily remember the lines of Payne Knight:

"But let no servile copyist appear, To plant his paltry imitations here; To shew how Baalbec dwindled to the eye,

And Pæstum's fanes, with columns six feet high."

It is impossible even to name the English gardens or seats which are or were remarkable for extent, or beauty, or richness of decoration. Cannons Park, at Edgware, promised to be the superbest place in the country. The Duke of Chandos proposed to purchase land from Little Stanmore to his town-house in Cavendish Square, so as to plant an avenue of nine miles in length; and it is said that, if he had lived, he would have accomplished this magnificent design. The garden of the Rev. William Herbert at Spofforth contains many exceedingly beautiful and rare flowers; and some choice bulbs bloom in the borders. Mr. Herbert is not only a scientific florist, but a very elegant poet; having contributed an epic, on the Miltonic principles of rhythm, to our own degenerate days. Frognals, near Bromley, has obtained a reputation for its white figs.

“The grounds of White Knights," says Mrs. Hofland, “exhibit every specimen of gardening in the most extensive sense of the term, with all the peculiar characteristics and appropriate embellishments which belong to each." They were laid out under the direction of the Duke of Marlborough, who resided at White Knights for many years. But Mr. Loudon says, that the grounds contain little variety of surface, and their chief beauty results from the artificial display of exotics and thatched hues.

One great charm of an English garden is the extreme freshness of its turf. Some of the most delicious turf in England may be seen at Cambridge; there flourish in fragrance

and freshness the trim grass-plats of Milton. The lawn at King's is in excellent condition; but Neville's Court, in Trinity, has a peculiar charm of stillness and repose. The meadows behind Trinity and Clare are beautifully bright with verdure. Here ruminates the shining cow under the shadowy boughs; and here wantons the college hackney,— "His sleek sides bathing in the dewy green."*

Little cares he for discussions on the corn-laws, watched over by the beneficent eye of the Bursar. Happy in his seclusion and in his life, no ecclesiastical commission disturbs his stall. Railways trouble him not, he still keeps to the road; and, often in the soft hour of a June sunset, may his feet be heard leisurely pattering along beneath the dim avenue of limes.

Foreign gardens surpass ours in odour. The gardens of the Tuileries are famous for their walks bordered by orange-trees in tubs; but the blossoms, being a perquisite of the gardener, are always plucked off and sold. This is a great pity, and deprives the visitor of one of the most delicious charms of which the senses are susceptible. Mr. Loudon, who visited Paris in 1830, and paid, as was to be expected, particular attention to its gardens and trees, expressed his opinion, that by the judicious distribution of orange-trees, and other odoriferous shrubs and plants, or even by the common mignonette alone, the air not only of Paris, but of any city, might be rendered sweet and fragrant as that of a garden. Every traveller knows that the country round Genoa and Naples is richly scented with orange-flowers: and Milton's beautiful description of "Araby the Blest" is often remembered by the scholar, as he sails along these delicious shores.

There is very little green turf to be seen on the Continent, the vivid lustre soon dies. There are a few exceptions. The garden of the l'alais Royal is remarkable for the beauty of its turf, which is watered every night during the summer. No person who is accustomed to the smoothshaven lawns of English cottages,

or to the vivid herbage of English meadows, can conceive the dry, starving, thirsty appearance of a French or Italian grass-plot. That bright and healthful green, which Wordsworth poetically and beautifully calls the emerald radiance, is entirely unknown. With the single exception of the garden at Caserta, I do not remember a green grass-plot in Italy.

With respect to landscape-gardening, it will be sufficient to remember the remark of Knight, that scarcely any parts of England are capable of representing the compositions of Salvator Rosa, Claude, and the Poussins; a few picturesque portions of the island may afford representations of the scenes produced by Rysdael, Burghem, and Pynaker; while those of Hobbima, Waterloe, and Adrian Vandervelvt, can be obtained any where. If, exclaimed Lord Orford, we have the seeds of a Claude or a Jasper amongst us, he must come forth. "If wood, water, groves, valleys, glades, can inspire a poet or painter, this is the country, this is the age to produce them. The flocks, the herds, that are now admitted into, now graze on the borders of our cultivated plains, are ready before the painter's eyes, and group themselves to animate his pictures." There seems to be a slight difference in opinion between these accomplished writers on landscape-gardening. I think that Knight has delivered the soundest judgment. We have neither the architecture nor the sunshine of Claude; we look in vain for the savage fertility and the melodramatic peasantry of Salvator; the classic harmony of Poussin must be sought, and with no hasty observation; but the rural landscape of our own painters lies under our eyes. The people who possess the Seasons of Thomson may be satisfied with the delineations of Gainsborough.

We have hitherto been walking in flower-gardens, or among the rich scenery of art; perhaps the reader may now be pleased with the view of a garden consecrated to the palate. Let him recreate himself in the very ingenious cherry-garden belonging to Mr. Labouchere. The form, as described by Loudon, is nearly a

parallelogram, about twice as long as it is broad; it is surrounded by a wire-fence ten feet high, the texture being such as will exclude small birds; that is, each mesh is two inches high, by one inch broad. The trees are standards, planted in the angles of squares; and their branches are kept in a horizontal position, by being tied down to stakes. A gravel-walk enters at one end, passes up the middle, and goes out at the other end. Perhaps a winding walk would have a better effect. In the intervals among the trees are planted gooseberries, currants, raspberries, and strawberries of different sorts. The cherries are of various kinds, but chiefly Maydukes, White-hearts, and the Black Circassian. At regular distances all through the area of this plot, wooden boxes, as sockets for posts, are fixed in the ground; and when the fruit begins to ripen, a net of the kind used in pilchard-fishing, and made at Bridport, in Dorsetshire, the meshes of two inches, is drawn over the whole cherry-garden, fastened to the top of the wire-fence by hooks which are fixed there, and supported from the trees by the props placed in the sockets. These props are fourteen feet high at the sides, and gradually rise to the middle of the garden; and they have blunt heads, in order not to injure the netting. The netting necessary for covering this square, which is 80 feet by 220 feet, is in two pieces, each 100 feet by 150 feet. During rain or dewy evenings the net is tightened, and forms a grand vault over the whole cherry-garden; during sunshine, or when the weather is dry, it is slackened, and forms a festooned vault supported by pots.*

But we must not linger even in this delicious cherry-garden, where the woods, already glowing with the setting day, invite our footsteps, and all nature smiles with the "coming on of grateful evening mild." In the western sky the coloured clouds float; now like the painted folds of Aurora's veil, now in "large brilliant volumes, like native cinnabar; now of a vivid red, like the marble of Languedoc ;" now like the wings of angels, flushed with the rose of Eden. Let us retire into the forest.

VOL. XXIV. NO. CXLIV.

ĽU

IN the time of Charles I., near the Park entrance on the east side of St. James's palace, stood a cluster of low-roofed buildings, which were then tenanted by the master of the choristers of the chapel royal, and had been so occupied from the time of Henry VIII. On this site, soon after the coming to this country of King George I., was erected the German chapel.

In one of these ancient tenements resided John Kingston, who had a passage between ivy-grown dwarf walls which led to Pall Mall. This passage had served, a full century before, as the private entrance to the flower-garden of Queen Anne Boleyn.

This John Kingston had been a disciple of Orlando Gibbons, and subsequently became organist to Oliver Cromwell, who, according to the testimony of that interesting gossip, Anthony Wood, "had an affection for music and musicians."

Kingston's name appears amongst the household musical establishment of King Charles I. Afterwards, however, for an increased salary, he went over to Cromwell, and was by him retained to instruct his daughters in music. Mrs. Claypole, the favourite daughter of the Lord-Protector, was considered a proficient on the organ. She performed also on the lute.

Cromwell, during the latter part of his administration, became melancholy, and sought retirement from the cares of state. He used to sit in awful silence by the side of this excellent lady for hours, until at length she would touch the black and white keys with such pathos as to melt his heart, when, embracing her with paternal affection, he would burst into an agony of grief and hastily retire.

Kingston retained in his tenement in the Park two boys, whose voices were much admired, and whom he taught to sing with him in parts; for he was an excellent vocal as well as instrumental performer. He was also a good classic, and taught these youths to sing Deering's Latin songs,

which Cromwell greatly delighted to hear, and was known frequently to sit at Kingston's, attentively listening, whilst they practised.

Musical entertainments (then denominated "musical crashes"), the performers being principally amateurs, were often held in Kingston's apartments; and Cromwell's love for music led him to be a frequent and unceremonious visitor to these concerts. On one occasion, Sir Roger l'Estrange happened to be a performer, and the knight not departing when Cromwell looked in upon them, the Cavaliers dubbed him "Oliver's fiddler."

That Sir Roger l'Estrange did not very quietly wrap up and slip into his lace-bound pocket this reproachful imputation is sufficiently evident, for he wrote a pamphlet entitled Truth and Loyalty Vindicated; and it was published in 1662, two years after the restoration of Charles II., wherein he thus fairly clears himself:

Being in St. James's Park," says Sir Roger, "I heard an organ skilfully touched in a long low apartment occupied by one Kingston. On entering, I there found a small company of musicians practising; and being desired to take up a riol and bear a part, I did as I was bidden, and in a part, too, not much calculated to advance the reputation of my cunning or prowess on an instrument of such difficult execution. By and by, without the least colour of design or expectation, in comes Cromwell. He found us playing, and, as I remember, so he left us."

Kingston was the celebrated Dr. Blow's first master. He (Kingston) had a nephew named Peter, who received his musical education under the wing of the British Orpheus, Henry Purcell. This Peter, who had sufficient talent, became organist of the old church at Ipswich, and was 3 very eminent teaclier there, and pa tronised by all the great families in the county. There is a clever por trait of Kingston, the uncle, in the collection at the Music School, Oxon,

which hangs near to that of old Gerard Lanière, the favourite composer of Charles I. Lanière was also a painter of considerable reputation ; and this should be inscribed, Ipse pinxit.

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There are many particulars related of that extraordinary personage, Cromwell, which prove that he was an amateur of music. Indeed, Anthony Wood expressly asserts the fact on his own knowledge, and recites a circumstantial story in proof thereof: "I had," says he, some intimacy with James Quin, one of the senior students of Christ Church, and had several times heard him sing with great admiration, not only in the choir there, but also at the inn in the city of Oxford, kept a few years before by Dame Davenant, the mother of the poet, William, the godson of Master William Shakspeare, who, in his latter days, often sojourned there for a short time, on his way up and down from Stratford-upon-Avon to the Globe, at Bankside, Southwark."

Quin's voice was a powerful bass, and he had great command of it; but he was deficient in skill, and could scarce sing in consort. He had been turned out of his student's place through the ignorance or puritanical tyranny of the visitors of the time; but happening to be "hand-in-glove" with some few influential men of that period that had retained some old affection for music, they introduced him into the company of Oliver Cromwell, then become lord-pro

tector, who " loved a good voice and instrumental music well." He heard him sing, with great delight,

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"Liquor'd him well with sack;" and, in conclusion, said, "Mr. Quin, you have done very well. What shall I do for you?" To which Quin made answer, with great compliments, of which he had command, and with a becoming grace, "That your highness would be pleased to restore to me my student's former place." Which Cromwell did accordingly; and so Quin kept it to his dying day.

Cromwell was also long before fond of the music of the organ, as the following will serve to shew. In the grand rebellion, when the fine instrument at Magdalen College, Oxford, amongst others, was taken down by the brutal order of the infatuated Puritans, Cromwell kept his eye upon it, and gave peremptory orders to his sergeants to see that it was carefully taken to pieces, its parts correctly numbered, and, on pain of his displeasure, safely conveyed to Hampton Court palace forthwith. It was so done, and set up in Cardinal Wolsey's gallery there; and one of his favourite amusements, in his leisure hours, was to listen to Kingston's able fingers rattling away on its keys.

;

It remained at this favourite retreat of Cromwell's until the Restoration when many things that had been long sadly out of place found their way home again, and, among others, this identical magnificent organ of Magdalen College.

An old winding staircase in the clock-tower at the corner of the Ambassador's Court, forming the gate entrance of St. James's Palace, and abutting on the west end of Pall Mall, led to a suite of chambers which were given to Henry Purcell by his royal patron, Charles II. In this comfortable retreat he was frequently visited by his friend Dryden, the poet, who being an expensive man, and sometimes in dread of his creditors, the palace being a privileged

place, the poet sometimes for days, and at others even for weeks, here, by the kindness of Purcell, took peaceful sanctuary, and the twain ate their snug dinner, provided by the agency of Chiffney, a hearty good fellow, whose influence over the king's esquire, cuisinier, and whose persuasive powers tickling the ear of the yeoman of the mouth, together commanded the key of the royal larder, and here they feasted in comfortable tranquillity; for the one