mHSI 
 
_ . ■ ■ 
 
%r(X^L $. r ft 
 
 THE 
 
 TOURIST’S GRAMMAR; 
 
 OR 
 
 RULES 
 
 RELATING TO THE 
 
 SCENERY AND ANTIQUITIES 
 
 JnctDent to ®rab?l!trs: 
 
 COMPILED FROM THE FIRST AUTHORITIES, 
 
 AND INCLUDING 
 
 AN EPITOME 
 
 OF 
 
 'Oilpin’ifl principle^ o£ tfje picturesque. 
 
 BY THE 
 
 REV. T. D. FOSBROKE, M.A. F.A.S. 
 
 HONORARY ASSOCIATE OF THE ROYAL SOCIETY OF LITERATURE, 
 HON. MEMBER OF THE BRISTOL PHILOSOPHICAL INSTITUTION, 
 AUTHOR OF THE ENCYCLOPEDIA OF ANTIQUITIES, BRITISH MONACHISM, 
 THE HISTORY OF GLOUCESTERSHIRE, THE WYE TOUR, &C. 
 
 fi IS avez vous pas souvent, au lieux infrequente8 ; 
 Rencontr** tout-a-coup, ces aspects enchantt's, 
 
 Qui suspendent vos pas, dont l’image ch^rie 
 Vousjette en une douce et une longue reverie? 
 
 De Lille. 
 
 HonDon: 
 
 JOHN NICHOLS AND SON, 25, PARLIAMENT-STREET. 
 
 jl 
 
 
 1 S 26 . 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 This work explains itself, and will, it is 
 trusted, be very useful. As the Ency¬ 
 clopedia of Antiquities was intended to 
 facilitate a general acquisition of Archse - 
 ology, so this has for its object the dis¬ 
 semination, in a cheap form, of the Pic¬ 
 turesque, and the Antiquities incident to 
 Travellers; the result of which will, it 
 is hoped, enable the Tourist to have a 
 higher enjoyment of his excursive plea¬ 
 sures, and the Topographer to enliven 
 the heaviness of description by tasteful 
 and interesting additions. Gilpin is 
 placed alone; because, though facile 
 princeps, his principles are in places 
 contested, and because they exhibit a 
 more contracted view of landscape-gar¬ 
 dening, i. e. chiefly by the qualities 
 a 2 
 
 496157 
 
IV 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 characteristick of good paintings. Be¬ 
 sides, this Introduction is an excellent 
 Accidence before entering on the Gram¬ 
 mar. In the Archaeological department 
 authorities are not quoted, because al¬ 
 ready given in the Encyclopedia of An¬ 
 tiquities. One mistake is to be cor¬ 
 rected. The Author of that excellent 
 work, the “ Observations on Modern 
 Gardening,” was Mr. Whately, once 
 Secretary to the Treasury; and the 
 book being anonymous, the Author con¬ 
 founded him with a painter of the name 
 of Wheatley. As to the high merits of 
 the work quoted, it is sufficient to notice 
 the repeated commendations of Alison. 
 
 Banks of the Wye, 
 
 Jan. 1; 1S26. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 —€>— 
 
 INTRODUCTION; 
 
 Comprising an Epitome of Gilpin’s Works. 
 
 Forest Scenery, vii—xxi.-Northern Tour, xxi—xxxvii.— 
 
 Scottish Tour, xxxvii—lxii.-Southern Tour, lx iii—Ixxi. 
 
 -Western Tour, Ixxi—xciii.-Eastern Tour, xciii— 
 
 xcvii.——Welsh Tour xcvii—ciii. 
 
 TOURIST’S GRAMMAR. 
 
 Part I. PICTURESQUE SCENERY. 
 
 I. Ground, 3. 
 
 II. Wood —Clumps, x. 18.-Avenues and Belts, xix. 19— 
 
 25-Plantations, 26—38.-Single Trees, &c. vii. 39 
 
 —44 
 
 III. Rocks, 46 
 
 IV. Water. —Natural Rivers, 51—59.-Artificial Rivers, 
 
 Pools and Lakes, 59—62.-Islands, 66.-Waterfalls, 
 
 71.-Rivulets, Brooks, and Rills, 72.-Aquatic Trees, 
 
 ix. 73.-Bridges, &c. 
 
 Subjects of Scenery, alphabetically arranged. 
 
 Approaches, 76.-Architecture, 80.-Avenues, 19—25, 
 
 83.-Banks, 55—64.-Belts, 19—25, 84.——Brown’s 
 
 Plan of Landscape-making, 84.—Buildings, Situation, 
 
 Appearances, Views, &c. 86—96.-Houses, Beauty and 
 
 Ugliness of, &c. 97.-Farm-Houses, Cottages, Lodges, 
 
 &c. 100—102.-Churches and Churchyards, 105, 106. 
 
 Colonnades, 107-Flower-gardens, 109.-Fruit-trees, 
 
 Hills and Mountains, 109.-Lawns, 111.-Mills, 
 
VI 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Orchards, 112.——Ornamental Buildings and Farms, 113. 
 
 -Parks, 114.-Prospects, 118.-Regularity and 
 
 Uniformity, Roads, 118.-Romantic Scenery, Ruins, 124. 
 
 -Shrubberies and Walks, 125.-Grottoes, Summer- 
 
 Houses and Alcoves, 128.-Temples, 129*-Terraces, 
 
 Thatch, Towns, 130.-Vales, Vallies, 131.-Villages, 
 
 135 .-Walks, Paths, &c. 137. 
 
 Part II. ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 Earthworks, Rude Stoneworks, &c. —Barrows, 143.- 
 
 Banks and Ditches, Cairns and Carnedhs, 145.-Castra- 
 
 metation, 146.-Earthworks, various, 149.-Roads, 
 
 British, Anglo-Saxon, and Roman, 150—152.-Towns, 
 
 Settlements, and Villages, 153.-Stoneworks, 157. 
 
 Architecture.— Cyclopean Masonry, 159.-Greek and 
 
 Roman Masonry, 160.-English Masonry, 161.—— 
 
 Bricks and Tiles, 162 . 
 
 Orders of Architecture.— Egyptian, 164.—Grecian, 165. 
 
 Gothic Architecture. —Round Arch Genus, Anglo-Saxon, 
 or Norman, 168 —170.—Pointed Arch Genus, 171 —176. 
 
 Greek and Roman Edifices.— Temples, Basilicae, Theatres, 
 Amphitheatres, Circus or Stadium, Aqueducts, Sewers, 
 Bridges, Acropoles, Town Walls, Baths, Obelisks, Trium¬ 
 phal Arches, Treasuries, Houses, Shops, Insulae or Houses 
 of distinction, Tombs and Matisolea, 176 — 187 . 
 
 Edifices of the Middle Age— Castles, Greek, British, 
 Anglo-Saxon, Norman, and English, 188 — 191 .-Ma¬ 
 
 nor-houses, 192 —20S. 
 
 Ecclesiastical Architecture.— Churches, 202-Tombs 
 
 Epitaphs, &c. 205—210.-Effigies in Armour, 209.- 
 
 Female Costume, 210.-Painted Glass, and Emblems 
 
 ot Saints, 213—-223.——Crosses. 224. 
 
INTRODUCTION; 
 
 COMPRISING AN 
 
 EPITOME OF GILPIN’S WORKS. 
 
 FOREST SCENERY, Vol. I. 
 
 Trees . All unnatural forms displease. A 
 single stem grown into a tree from a pollard, is 
 bad. (p. 4.) Lightness and beauty of growth, 
 so as to remove the bush form, are beautiful, 
 (p. 5.) Unbalanced trees, like those on sea 
 coasts, are bad (p. 6), unless they impend from 
 a rock. (Ibid.) Trees with withered tops are 
 good in landscape to break the regularity of 
 some continued line which we would not entirely 
 hide. (p. 8.) Old ruined trees, with curtailed 
 trunks, discover eminences, while the lateral 
 healthy branches hide parts below, which, 
 wanting variety, are better veiled, (p. 9.) 
 Blasted trees are capital adjuncts to dreary 
 heath-scenery, (p. 14.) The chief beauty of the 
 
 ——-v 
 
vi n 
 
 EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 Ash is the lightness of its appearance, (p. 35.) 
 The easy sweep of its branches, and looseness of 
 its hanging leaves, are elegant, (p. 41.) Moun¬ 
 tain Ashes , if a few in a clump, with dark pines 
 and waving birch, have a fine effect, (p. 41.) 
 No tree is better adapted than the Elm to re¬ 
 ceive grand masses of light, and, when aged, 
 few trees excel it in grandeur and beauty. It 
 unites well with the oak, Scotch fir, beech, and 
 many others, (pp. 42, 43.) Wych-elm is better 
 on a fore-ground, because it hangs more neg¬ 
 ligently. (p. 43.) The Beech is bad from 
 its bushy form; but in distance it preserves 
 the depth of the forest; is often good in con¬ 
 trast, and as a thick heavy tree may be neces¬ 
 sary in the corner of a landscape. Its autumnal 
 hues are good, and, united with those of oak, 
 the finest oppositions of tint are produced, (p. 
 50.) The summer leaves of both the Planes 
 are of so light a hue as to mix ill with the foliage 
 of the oak, the elm, &c. (p. 65.) The Poplar 
 is, at least, a stately tree; but its thin quiver¬ 
 ing foliage is neither adapted to catch masses of 
 light, like that of the Elm; nor has it the hanging 
 lightness of the Ash. Its chief use in landscape 
 is to mix, as a variety, in contrast with other 
 trees, (p. 56.) The Lombardy Poplar is best 
 
I 
 
 
 FOREST SCENERY. ix 
 
 in groups, (p. 58.) Walnut is best alone; it is 
 picturesque, and its ramification is generally 
 beautiful, (p. 58.) The Sycamore has an im¬ 
 penetrable shade, and often receives well con¬ 
 trasted masses of light, (p. 61.) The Chesnut 
 is noble, when in maturity and perfection, (p. 
 62.) The Horse Chesnut is heavy, but from 
 forming an admirable shade, may be of use 
 in thickening distant scenery, (p. 65.) The 
 Weeping Willow is picturesque, and suits a ro¬ 
 mantic foot-path bridge, or glassy pool: all the 
 other willows are bad. (p. 67.) The Alder is, 
 perhaps, the next picturesque of the aquatic 
 tribe, (p. 68.) The Lady Birch , or Weeping 
 Birch , and full-grown Acacia , are elegant pen¬ 
 dents. (pp. 70—72.) The Larch merely em¬ 
 bellishes some trifling artificial scene. It is 
 never grand or noble, (p. 76.) Cedars, stone 
 pines, and clump-headed trees, without lateral 
 branches, may become picturesque from circum¬ 
 stances, but rarely are so. (p. 84.) Weymouth 
 Pines are formal and regular, (p. 86.) The 
 Scotch Fir , in perfection, is very picturesque, 
 but is spoiled by close planting in thickets, (p. 
 87.) The Spruce Firs may do in wild situations, 
 especially if they have broken stumps. In all cir¬ 
 cumstances, the spruce fir appears best either as 
 a 5 
 
X 
 
 EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 a single tree, or unmixed with any of its fellows, 
 for neither it, nor any of the spear-headed race, 
 will ever form a beautiful clump without the as¬ 
 sistance of other trees, (p. 93.) The Silver Fir 
 is rarely picturesque, (p. 93.) The form and 
 foliage of the Yew are picturesque, (p. 97,) and 
 though blamed for its dingy funereal hue, an 
 attachment to colour, as such, seems an indica¬ 
 tion of false taste, because from hence arise the 
 numerous absurdities of gaudy decoration, (p. 
 100.) Hollies , mixed with oak, or ash, or other 
 timber trees in a forest, contribute to form the 
 most beautiful scenes, blending themselves with 
 the trunks and skeletons of winter, or with the 
 varied greens of summer, (p. 103.) The Haw¬ 
 thorn is of a bad shape. It forms a matted, 
 round# heavy bush. (p. 104.) 
 
 For fore-grounds , a tree should be in full 
 perfection as a grand object, (p. 117.) 
 
 Clumps , smaller for the fore-ground, larger 
 for the distance. The beauty of the former , 
 Gilpin places in contrasts of trunks, branches, 
 and foliage well balanced. (182—184.) The 
 use of the latter, he says, is to lighten the hea¬ 
 viness of a continued distant plain, and prevent 
 abrupt transitions, (p. 185.) These clumps 
 must, in size and dimensions, not encroach on 
 
FOREST SCENERY. 
 
 XI 
 
 the dignity of the wood; and they must be con¬ 
 nected again themselves with the plain by pro¬ 
 jecting single trees, (p. 187.) “ A clump on 
 
 the side of a hill, or in any situation where the 
 eye can more easily investigate its shape, must 
 be circumscribed by an irregular line, in which 
 it is required that the undulations, both at 
 the base and summit of the clump, should be 
 strongly marked, as the eye probably has a dis¬ 
 tinct view of both. But if it be seen only on 
 the top of a hill, or along the distant horizon 
 (as in these situations the base is commonly lost 
 in the varieties of the ground), a little variation 
 in the line which forms the summit, so as to 
 break any disagreeable regularity there, will be 
 sufficient.” (p. 187.) 
 
 Park Scenery . Generally composed of com¬ 
 binations of clumps, interspersed with lawns, (p. 
 189.) The park should be proportioned to the 
 size of the house, and the latter should have 
 ample room on every side. A great house 
 stands most nobly on an elevated knoll, from 
 whence it may overlook the distant country, 
 while the woods of the park screen the regu¬ 
 larity of the intervening cultivation: or it stands 
 well on the side of a valley, which winds along 
 its front, and is adorned with wood, or a na- 
 
Xll 
 
 EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 tural stream hiding and discovering itself among 
 the trees at the bottom : or it stands with dig¬ 
 nity, as Longleat does, in the centre of de¬ 
 mesnes, which shelve gently down to it on every 
 side. Even dead flats may be so varied with 
 clumps of different forms receding behind each 
 other in so pleasing a manner, as to make an 
 agreeable scene, (pp. 190, 191.) 
 
 Copses are not picturesque. They have not 
 the projections and recesses which the skirts of 
 forests exhibit. The best effect of them is on 
 the lofty banks of a river. Viewed upwards, 
 the deficiencies are concealed, (pp. 199—202.) 
 
 Glen (valley contracted to a chasm). It 
 must have glades, or openings to good objects, 
 as cascades, rocks, winding streams, plains and 
 woods, distant mountains, &c. As an object of 
 distance, also, the woody glen has often a good 
 effect; climbing the sides of mountains, breaking 
 their lines, and giving variety to their bleak and 
 barren sides, (pp. 205—209.) 
 
 Groves (open) are seldom picturesque; their 
 boundaries should always be concealed, (pp 
 211—218.) 
 
 Forest Scenery, as consisting of wood, pas¬ 
 turage, and heath , is to be considered, in a 
 tour view, as the scenery of a fore-ground. 
 
FOREST SCENERY. 
 
 Xlll 
 
 and the scenery of a distance . Forest scenery 
 as a fore-ground depends upon its little openings 
 and glades among the trees, banks, underwoods, 
 pools of water, the multifarious mixture of the 
 trees, wild shrubs, weeds, &c. (pp. 221—237.) 
 As to the distant scenery, the shape of distant 
 woods is then only picturesque when it is bro¬ 
 ken by a varied line. A regular line at the base 
 of a long range of woody scenery is almost as 
 disgusting as at the summit of it. The woods 
 must in some parts approach nearer the eye, 
 and in other parts retire, forming the appear¬ 
 ance of bays and promontories. At least this is 
 the most beautiful shape in which they appear. 
 Sometimes, indeed, the inequalities of the 
 ground prevent the eye from seeing the base of 
 the wood; for as the base is connected with 
 the ground, it is commonly more obscured than 
 the summit , which ranges along the sky. All 
 square, round, picked, or other formal shapes 
 in distant woods are disgusting. There should 
 not only be breaks, but contrast also, between 
 the several irregularities of a distant forest-scene. 
 A line, regularly varied ., disgusts as much as an 
 unvaried one. (p. 240.) 
 
 Forest Scenery, Vol. ii. A pebbly, or 
 sandy shore , has often a good effect at low 
 water, but an oozy one never, (p. 54.) 
 
Xiv EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 Grand woody scenes are good substitutes 
 for defect of expanse of water, (p. 55.) 
 
 A winding road through a wood has more 
 beauty than a vista ; but through a vast forest 
 the latter is better, for though regular forms are 
 certainly unpicturesque, yet from their simpli¬ 
 city, they are often allied to greatness. 46 So 
 essential is simplicity to greatness, that we often 
 see instances in which the stillness of symmetry 
 hath added to grandeur, if not produced it; 
 while, on the other hand, we as often see a 
 sublime effect injured by the meretricious 
 charms of picturesque forms and arrangements.” 
 The forest vista is, however, not to be classed 
 with the tame, artificial one; the trees in the 
 former are casually large or small; grow in 
 clumps, or stand single; crowd upon the fore¬ 
 ground, or recede from it; form wonderful va¬ 
 rieties of groups and beautiful forms; are inter¬ 
 mixed with all kinds of trees and bushes ; some¬ 
 times break into open groves, lawns, tracts of 
 pasture, and smaller openings and recesses, (pp. 
 64—67.) The poorer the soil, the more beautiful 
 the ramification of the tree, and the point of 
 picturesque perfection is when the tree has 
 foliage enough to form a mass; and yet not so 
 much as to hide the branches. The ramifica¬ 
 tion ought to appear here and there under the 
 
'W 
 
 
 FOREST SCENERY. XV 
 
 foliage, even when the tree is in full leaf. It is 
 the want t>f this species of ramification which 
 gives a heaviness to the beech, (p. 79.) Nature 
 plants different kinds of trees in masses of each, 
 or indiscriminately mixes them altogether, (p. 
 76.) 
 
 Small harbours are more picturesque than 
 large ones, for ships in profile are formal, but 
 single-masted light-sailing vessels are beautiful 
 in almost any position, (p. 96.) 
 
 Wild heaths receive some beauty from swells 
 and hollows, (p. 102.) 
 
 Rivulets in forest scenes are only successful 
 [ when they spread into little pools in the vallies, 
 
 : and animate the view by drawing the cattle to 
 
 i them. (p. 106.) 
 
 Every species of country, cultivated as well 
 as uncultivated, when melted down into dis- 
 tance> has a fine effect; but the forest distance 
 is among the richest, (p. 109.) The woods, 
 stretching far and wide beyond a lengthened 
 Savannah are fine. (pp. 110, 111.) 
 
 Beech has the characteristick imperfections of 
 a spiry pointedness in the extremities of its 
 branches, which gives a littleness to its parts. 
 
 (p. 111.) 
 
 Small flats are trivial, mere bowling-greens, 
 
XVi EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 without parts to set them off, or greatness in 
 the whole to confer interest; but large, exten¬ 
 sive flats may give one grand uniform idea. 
 The grandest flat is the ocean; but that is 
 grandeur without beauty, and wherever the sea 
 appears in conjunction with a level surface, the 
 effect is bad; it joins one flat to another, and 
 produces confusion, (p. 122.) 
 
 Gradation in landscape contributes more than 
 any other thing towards the production of effect. 
 Abruptness and strong opposition are often great 
 sources of picturesque beauty when properly 
 and sparingly introduced. In profusion they 
 are affected. In natural ground, nature gra¬ 
 dually unites one part with another; the tree 
 with the shrub; the shrub with the brake; that 
 again with the weed; and lastly, the lowest de¬ 
 corations with the level ground, often further 
 softened by patches of luxuriant herbage; but 
 in cultivated fields there is no transition, con¬ 
 nection, or gradation among the parts. The 
 smooth, uniform surface of grass or corn joins 
 abruptly with wood or hedge. 
 
 Gradation , even, enters into the idea of con¬ 
 trast , as applied to artificial lawns bounded with 
 wood. Some of the clumps should be brought 
 forward, and the smaller trees be planted in front, 
 
FOREST SCENERY. 
 
 XVII 
 
 to connect the lawn with the wood. (pp. 125— 
 127.) 
 
 Extensive views may be rendered picturesque 
 by breaking the fore-ground and second dis¬ 
 tance, here and there, with plantations, (p. 132.) 
 
 Lakes , or pieces of water , though not dig¬ 
 nified by rocks, mountains, and craggy pro¬ 
 montories, may yet be made interesting by ele¬ 
 gant irregular lines; banks rising in gentle swells 
 from the water; skirts of wood running down to 
 the edge of the lake, and by low points of level 
 land shooting into it, which are always beautiful, 
 especially when adorned with groups of figures, 
 or of cattle, (p. 135.) 
 
 Roads passing through woody lanes and open 
 groves are beautiful, (p. 135.) 
 
 Old oaks often unite with ruins, so as to form 
 most pleasing fore-grounds , while rivers, pools, 
 and woods beyond, make a good distance, (p. 
 141.) 
 
 Sluggish bullrush streams , in meadows un¬ 
 adorned with woody are bad. (p. 146.) 
 
 Winding roads in the margins of lakes, such 
 roads being in parts intercepted by clumps ; in 
 front, woods, receding a little from the water, and 
 leaving a space of flat meadow, that has a good 
 effect in contrast with the rising grounds and 
 woods on each side, are pleasing, (p. 146.) 
 
u 
 
 xviii EPITOME OF GIEPlN. 
 
 Fallen trees , with their branches on, are 
 picturesque, (p. 154,) but not square timber, 
 though timber-yards, with sheds and other cir¬ 
 cumstances, and ships on the stocks, are not 
 wholly void of the picturesque, (p. 163.) 
 
 Bays , land-locked wuth wood, are noble ob¬ 
 jects. (p. 165.) 
 
 Picturesque . Horror in the 'picturesque is pro¬ 
 duced by rivers winding between craggy and 
 barren mountains, which should have no wood, 
 except here and there a scathed and rugged pine, 
 (pp. 167 169.) Various beautiful accompani¬ 
 
 ments may be exhibited in scenes, but striking 
 objects, as castles, picturesque rocks, &c. maybe 
 wanting, (p. 174.) 
 
 Coasts , to be picturesque, should be broken 
 into parts, not be one large range displayed at 
 once. (p. 189.) 
 
 lore-grounds are essential to landscape, dis¬ 
 tances are not. A picturesque view may consist 
 entirely of water, but that has no fore-ground. 
 It wants on its nearer parts that variety of ob¬ 
 jects, which, receiving strong impressions of 
 light and shade, are necessary to give it con¬ 
 sequence and strength. It turns all into dis¬ 
 tance, and distances are not essential to land¬ 
 scape. Fore-grounds may therefore be given to 
 laige expanses of water, by taking low stands 
 
FOREST SCENERY. xix 
 
 foi view, and making artificial fore-grounds of 
 groups of ships, boats with figures, light-houses, 
 or something that will make a balance between 
 near and distant objects, (p. 199.) 
 
 Stables , if expansive, should contribute to the 
 magnificence of the whole, by making one of the 
 wings, or some other proper appendage of the 
 pile, because ornaments serve only to call atten¬ 
 tion to nuisances, filth, litter, &c. Cow-sheds 
 and pig-sties should be plain, and stand in some 
 sequestered distant place, (pp. 204, 205.) 
 
 Long, tedious and parallel shores are bad. 
 
 (p. 206.) 
 
 Clumps have little or no effect in large areas, 
 but corners of woods breaking upon them give 
 variety and grandeur, (p. 208.) 
 
 Distances are, at all times, an agreeable part 
 of landscape, and unite with every mode of com¬ 
 position. 
 
 A plain fore-ground^ void of ornament may be 
 joined to a removed distance, without the inter¬ 
 vention of any middle ground. In a composi¬ 
 tion of this simple kind, it is necessary to break 
 the lines of the fore-ground, which may easily 
 be done by a tree, or group of cattle, (p. 209.) 
 
 A straight road over a plain is paltry, because 
 it has not grandeur sufficient to rouse the ima¬ 
 gination. (p. 211.) 
 
XX 
 
 EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 Railed fences are good in sloping ground, 
 because they wind. (p. 216.) 
 
 Roads cut through woods, forming gaping 
 chasms, opening like wide portals, discovering 
 the naked horizon, and making a full pause in 
 the landscape, show artifice, and hurt the eye. 
 
 (p. 221.) 
 
 Distances • Plano-convex mirrors (as used by 
 Mr. Gray in surveying landscapes) show ob¬ 
 jects at hand (particularly when travelling in a 
 chaise) to great advantage; but distances re¬ 
 duced to a small surface are lost. (p. 224.) 
 
 Prospects . Some extensive scenes are subject 
 to a thousand varieties, from the different mo¬ 
 difications of the atmosphere, and may yet be 
 beautiful in all. (p. 232.) 
 
 The effect of light is best seen in an evening 
 storm when it rises from the East, behind a 
 woody bank, while the sun, sinking in the 
 West, throws a splendour upon the trees, which, 
 seen to such advantage against the darkness of 
 the hemisphere, shews the full effect of light 
 and shade. 
 
 Haziness and mists are great sources of va¬ 
 riety, ana are in general good, but are bad 
 when they make a violent chasm in the land¬ 
 scape. "I hen nothing can more strongly show 
 the use of distances in completing the harmony 
 
NORTHERN TOUR. 
 
 xxi 
 
 of a view. When the several parts of the 
 country melt into each other, a fog, or a dis¬ 
 tance, can never introduce any great mischief. 
 It comes gradually on, and therefore only gra¬ 
 dually obscures, (pp. 243, 244.) 
 
 NORTHERN TOUR, Vol. I. 
 
 Chalky soils generally produce an impove¬ 
 rished kind of landscape, without the grandeur 
 of the rocky country, or the cheerful luxuriance 
 of the sylvan, (p. 4.) 
 
 Haziness adds that light, grey tint, that thin, 
 dubious veil, which is often beautifully spread 
 over landscape. It hides nothing: it only 
 sweetens the lines of nature. It imparts conse¬ 
 quence to every common object, by giving it 
 a more indistinct form : it corrects the glare of 
 outline : it softens the harshness of lines: and, 
 above all, it throws over the face of landscape 
 that harmonizing tint which blends the whole 
 into unity and repose. 
 
 Mist goes further. It spreads still more ob¬ 
 scurely over the face of nature. As haziness 
 softens, and adds a beauty, perhaps, to the most 
 correct forms of landscape; mist is adapted to 
 those landscapes in which we want to hide much, 
 to soften more, and to throw many parts into a 
 greater distance than they naturally occupy. 
 
u 
 
 XXii EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 Even tlie Tog , which is the highest degree of 
 a gross atmosphere, is not without its beauty in 
 landscape ; especially in mountain scenes, which 
 are so much the objects of the following re¬ 
 marks. When partial, as it often is, the effect 
 is grandest. When some vast promontory, 
 issuing from a cloud of vapour, with which all 
 its upper parts are blended, shoots into a lake; 
 the imagination is left at a loss to discover 
 whence it comes, or to what height it aspires. 
 The effect rises with the obscurity, and the view 
 is sometimes wonderfully great, (pp. 12, 13.) 
 
 Gothic Architecture (late period). The flat 
 roof, with all its ornaments, has not the sim¬ 
 plicity and beauty of the ribbed and pointed 
 one. (p. 17.) 
 
 White Spots. When a white spot has a 
 meaning, as in a wicket or a seat, if it be only 
 a spot, it may often have a good effect; but 
 when it forces itself on the eye in large, un¬ 
 meaning patches, it never fails to disturb the 
 landscape, (p. 21.) 
 
 V illages. Gilpin questions whether it be pos¬ 
 sible for a single hand to build a picturesque 
 village. Nothing contributes more to it than 
 the various styles in building, which result 
 from the different ideas of different people. 
 W hen all these little habitations happen to unite 
 
NORTHERN TOUR. XXlii 
 
 harmoniously, and to be connected with the 
 pi oper appendages of a village; a winding 
 road, a number of spreading trees, a rivulet with 
 a bridge, and a spire to bring the whole to an 
 apex; the village is complete, (p. 22.) 
 
 Chastity of design. Nothing disturbs the eye 
 more, in contemplating a grand scene, than 
 a multiplicity of glaring temples and pavilions, 
 (p. 42.) 
 
 Approaches. The view of a noble building 
 should be confined to the one great object. It 
 should be approached between woods. Such an 
 approach is that of Warwick Castle, and a 
 grander one cannot well be conceived; and, in 
 Grilpin s opinion, no part of the improvement 
 of a great house should be so much attended 
 to as its approach. It strikes the first impres¬ 
 sion, which is generally the most lasting, (p. 44.) 
 
 Water , if it sweeps round, must be beau¬ 
 tiful in some degree. Its surface cannot, like 
 land, be injured by art: the extremities of it 
 would be generally hid, and it would be con¬ 
 tinually unfolding itself round the magnificent 
 objects which it encompassed (p. 49.) 
 
 Ruins and perfect buildings, difference be¬ 
 tween. Ruins, to be perfect, should possess a 
 sort of rich mutilation, every part in some 
 degree defaced, and yet the whole so perfect as 
 
XXIV 
 
 EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 to leave room for the imagination to put all 
 together. In a ruin this is enough; but where 
 the parts are entire , we require the ornaments 
 to be so too. (p. 55.) 
 
 Distances appear to more advantage if some¬ 
 times seen over a wood, and sometimes opening 
 through on aperture in one; occasionally through 
 interstices among the boles of trees, (p. 62.) 
 
 Paths on higher grounds should not be too 
 open (ibid.) , and regular fields never be fore¬ 
 grounds. (p. 62.) Ruins should never be dis¬ 
 tant ornaments, (p. 66.) 
 
 Canals and Rivers. One of the most beau¬ 
 tiful objects in nature is a noble river winding 
 through a country, and discovering its mazy 
 course, sometimes half concealed by its woody 
 banks, and sometimes displaying its ample folds 
 through the open vale. Its opposite, in every 
 respect, is one of these cuts , as they are called. 
 Its linear and angular course; its relinquishing 
 the declivities of the country, and passing over 
 hill and dale; sometimes banked up on one 
 side, and sometimes on both; its sharp pa¬ 
 rallel edges, naked and unadorned; all contri¬ 
 bute to place it in the strongest contrast with 
 the river. An object disgusting in itself, is still 
 more so when it reminds you, by some distant 
 resemblance, of something beautiful, (p. 70.) 
 
■■ 
 
 tall 
 
 here 
 
 lents 
 
 me* 
 
 M 
 
 4 
 
 re* 
 
 fc 
 
 izy 
 
 xly 
 
 ilds 
 
 eir 
 
 ed 
 
 mf 
 
 !tl 
 
 a* 
 
 *i- 
 
 tk 
 
 ill 
 
 nt 
 
 NORTHERN TOUR. XXV 
 
 'Triumphal Arches , &c. should not be placed 
 in plain fields. (Ibid.) 
 
 Fictitious Ruins. If a ruin be intended to 
 take a station merely in some distant, inacces¬ 
 sible place, one or two points of view are all 
 that need be provided for. The construction, 
 therefore, of such a ruin, is a matter of less 
 nicety. It is a ruin in a picture. But if it be 
 presented on the spot, where the spectator may 
 walk round it, and survey it on every side, 
 perhaps enter it, the construction of it becomes 
 a matter of great difficulty; for paltry ruins are 
 of no value, and to construct one of a castle or 
 abbey is not only expensive to a foolish excess, 
 but almost impracticable in perfect taste, and 
 absolutely so with regard to those characters of 
 age, ivy, weeds, mosses, lychens, &c. which time 
 only can introduce, (pp. 72—74.) 
 
 Roads leading through groves and lanes, em¬ 
 bowered with lofty trees, are beautiful, (p. 77.) 
 
 Promontories and high lands, if rough, are 
 very picturesque, (p. 84.) 
 
 Sand-Beach) a winding one, especially when 
 seen from a woody fore-ground, is a beautiful 
 distant object. Its hue, amidst the verdure of 
 foliage, is a pleasant, chastising tint. When 
 the tide flows, the sands change their appear- 
 b 
 
XXVI 
 
 EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 ance, and take the still more pleasing form of a 
 lake. (p. 85.) 
 
 Sylvan Scenes , beautiful , lead interchange¬ 
 ably through close groves, under wooded hills, 
 and along the banks of a lake. (p. 86.) 
 
 Mountains , in a picturesque view, are to be 
 considered only as distant objects, their enor¬ 
 mous size disqualifying them for objects at hand. 
 In the removed part of a picture, therefore, the 
 mountain properly appears, where its immensity, 
 reduced by distance, can be taken in by the eye ; 
 and its monstrous features, losing their defor¬ 
 mity, assume a softness which naturally belongs 
 not to them. A mountain, however, is not to 
 be considered as proper only to close an extended 
 view. It may take its station in a second or 
 third distance with equal propriety, and, even on 
 a fore-ground, a rugged corner of its base may 
 be introduced, though its upper regions aspire 
 far beyond the limits of any picture. The beauty 
 of a distant mountain, in a great measure, de¬ 
 pends on the line it traces along the sky, which 
 is generally lighter than the mountain. The 
 pyrimidal shapes, and easy flow of an irregular 
 line, will be found here, as in other delineations, 
 the truest source of beauty. Mountains, there¬ 
 fore, rising in regular, mathematical lines, or in 
 
NORTHERN TOUR. 
 
 XXVII 
 
 whimsical, grotesque shapes, are displeasing. 
 [Such are those which are notched, serrated, 
 and so forth.] Such forms, also, as suggest the 
 idea of lumpish heaviness, are disgusting, round¬ 
 swelling forms, without any break to disencum¬ 
 ber them of their weight. Indeed, a continuity 
 of line without a break, whether it be concave, 
 straight, or convex, will always displease, because 
 it wants variety; unless, indeed, it be well con¬ 
 trasted with other forms. The effect, also, of a 
 broken line is bad, if the breaks are regular. 
 The sources of deformity in the mountain line 
 will easily suggest those of beauty. If the line 
 swell easily to an apex, and yet, by irregular 
 breaks, which may be varied in a thousand 
 modes, it must be pleasing. And yet abruptness 
 itself is sometimes a source of beauty, either 
 when it is in contrast with other parts of the 
 line, or when rocks, or other objects, account 
 naturally for it. The same principles on which 
 we seek for beauty in single mountains, will help 
 us to find it in a combination of them. Moun¬ 
 tains in composition are considered as single 
 objects, and follow the same rules. If they 
 break into mathematical or fantastick forms; if 
 they join heavily together in lumpish shapes ’; if 
 they fall into each other at right angles; or if 
 b 2 
 
xxviii EPITOME OF GIEPIN. 
 
 their lines run parallel; in all these cases, the 
 composition will be more or less disgusting; 
 and a converse of these will, of course, be agree¬ 
 able. (pp. 87—90.) The most magnificent ef¬ 
 fects of light and shade are to be seen only on 
 mountains, (p. 94.) 
 
 Islands in lakes, if round, or thickened with 
 wood, or placed in a centre of a round lake, 
 or focus of an oval one, or in any regular 
 position, lose their beauty; but when these lines 
 and shapes are both irregular; when they are 
 ornamented with ancient oak, rich in foliage, 
 but light and airy; and when they take some 
 irregular situation in the lake, then they are 
 objects truly beautiful, (p. 103.) 
 
 Lake Scenery should have a mountain in 
 the off-skip, the lake at a nearer distance, and 
 the fore-ground be a broken ground, trees, rocks, 
 cascades, and vallies. (p. 111.) 
 
 Cascades . Regular falls, however high, are 
 mere spouts; successive falls are often beau¬ 
 tiful ; a broken fall only suits a small quantity 
 of water ; proportion must be observed. Moun¬ 
 tain cascades should be broad; and large rivers 
 exceed low falls, (p. 120.) 
 
 Vallies. Open vallies are objects of distant 
 scenery. Contracted vallies should have one of 
 
 \ 
 
NORTHERN TOUR. 
 
 XXIX 
 
 the side screens a little removed. These side 
 screens may be high or low; rocky or woody; 
 smooth or full of jutting promontories : and 
 when these sides are well proportioned and pic¬ 
 turesquely adorned; when they open in a rich 
 distance, a lake, bounded by a rocky mountain, 
 or any other interesting object, they form a very 
 pleasing landscape, (p. 121.) 
 
 Dells , i. e. narrow clefts winding between 
 rocky precipices, and overhung with wood, and 
 a rivulet at the bottom, form only fore-grounds. 
 These can only consist of some little seques¬ 
 tered recess; a few twisted boles; a cascade 
 sparkling through the trees; or a translucent 
 pool formed in the cavity beneath some rock, 
 and just large enough to reflect the hanging 
 wood which overshadows it. (p. 123.) 
 
 Lake-scenery * owes its value to magnifi¬ 
 cence. (p. 126.) 
 
 Mountains . The heaviness of a mountain is 
 taken off by good combinations of broken 
 ground, rocks, and wood. (p. 190.) Mountain 
 lines should have easy sweeps; for too many tops 
 of mountains, like hay-cocks, injure the ideas of 
 simplicity and grandeur, (pp. 192, 193.) 
 
 * Those like the American are not alluded to 
 here. The extent of water throws the scenery too 
 much into distance. 
 
XXX 
 
 EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 Lakes. The picturesque scenes which a lake 
 affords must be sought by travelling along the 
 rough side screens which adorn it, and catching 
 its beauties as they arise in smaller portions; 
 its little bays and winding shores; its deep re¬ 
 cesses and hanging promontories; its garnished 
 rocks and distant mountains, (p. 194.) 
 
 Cjood Landscapes. To obtain a succession of 
 good landscapes, the best way is to follow the 
 lines of the rivers, (p. 210.) 
 
 Bridges make a pleasing species of scenery. 
 (Ibid.) 
 
 Fogs gradually growing off, or partially clear- 
 ing up at once, give pleasing views of land¬ 
 scapes. (pp. 228, 229.) 
 
 Where Promontories cause the sweeps of ri¬ 
 vers to make too acute angles, the abruptness 
 is softened by a view from lower points, (p. 
 232.) 
 
 A Stream , when unaccompanied with verdure, 
 is the strongest emblem of desolation, (p. 235.) 
 
 Mountains overhung with clouds gain height 
 in appearance, (p. 238.) 
 
 Northern Tour, vol. ii .—Lakes should he 
 oblong, wind round promontories, and be sur- 
 rounded by mountains, (p 2.) 
 
 Rural Vallies are beautiful when they have 
 bright streams pouring along rocky channels. 
 
NORTHERN TOUR. 
 
 XXXI 
 
 and sparkling down numberless little cascades 
 or banks, adorned with wood, and varied with 
 different objects ; a bridge; a mill; a hamlet; 
 a glade overhung with wood; or some little 
 sweet recess, or natural vista, through which the 
 eye ranges between irregular trees along the 
 windings of the stream, (p. 9.) 
 
 A Mountain is an object of grandeur; and 
 its dignity receives new force by mixing with 
 the clouds, and arraying itself in the majesty 
 of darkness, (p. 18.) 
 
 Vallies. Circular Vallies want that variety 
 which the winding vale affords; w r here one part 
 is continually receding from another in all the 
 pleasing gradations of perspective. Circular val- 
 lies, if they contain beauties, offer too much at 
 once; a confusion , rather than a succession of 
 scenery, (p. 33.) 
 
 Mountains . The fine structure of mountains 
 consists in their abruptness, being hung with 
 rock and finely adorned with wood. (p. 33.) 
 
 Scenes , Spaces and grand boundaries always 
 suggest an idea of greatness: a little scene 
 cannot present grandeur, (pp. 40, 41.) 
 
 Promontory A Promontory , uniting with a 
 mountain, eases greatly the heaviness of a line, 
 and is necessary in nearer grounds, (p. 55.) 
 
 Vallies and Knolls. Numberless breaks , as 
 
XXXli EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 little vallies and knolls, bestow lightness without 
 injuring simplicity, (p. 55.) 
 
 Fore-grounds. Woods, intermixed with rock, 
 impending over water, furnish a great variety 
 of beautiful fore-grounds, (p. 57.) 
 
 Scenes of grandeur are adapted to every state 
 of the sky, but look best under a storm, (p. 58.) 
 
 Views from water are, in general, less beau¬ 
 tiful than the same views from the land, as 
 they want the advantage of a fore-ground, and 
 bring the horizon too low; but they give ef¬ 
 fect to grand reaches and woody promontories. 
 
 (p. 82.) 
 
 Moonlight gives sublimity to grand objects 
 (p. 83.) 
 
 Castles are generally heavy, and if tolerably 
 perfect, please only as remote objects, softened 
 by distance, (p. 95.) 
 
 Rocks should be of the grey kind, stained with 
 a variety of different tints, not of a red colour. 
 
 (pp. 102, 103.) 
 
 I he banks of rivers, and the edgings of 
 meadow, should be irregular. (p. 105 ) 
 
 Large, flat plains want, on the fore-ground, 
 objects to preserve the keeping; and in the 
 off-skip, that profusion of little parts, which, 
 in a scene of cultivation, gives richness to dis¬ 
 tance. (p. 112.) 
 
NORTHERN TOUR. 
 
 XXX111 
 
 Clumps and single trees upon the banks of 
 rivers and areas of the vale, have a good effect 
 in breaking the lines and regular continuity of 
 the side screens ; and in hiding, here and there, 
 the course of the river, especially bridges, which 
 would otherwise be too bare and formal, (p. 119.) 
 
 Mountains . A small break in a grand pile of 
 ruins or mountains, removes heaviness; but 
 not a division into two equal parts, for then 
 each aspires to pre-eminence, (p. 148.) Re¬ 
 gular semi-circular convex hills should be bi¬ 
 sected and adorned, (pp. 165, 166.) A con¬ 
 vex, regular hill in front of irregular moun¬ 
 tains, spoils the effect of them. (p. 169.) 
 
 Distances . A wild, unwooded waste, when 
 thrown into distance, has neither variety nor 
 richness. It is one uniform, dark, and dreary 
 spread; unless it be happily enlightened, or 
 consist of hilly ground broken into large parts. 
 The intermixture of tracts of w r oodland adds a 
 pleasing variety to distance, and is adapted to 
 receive the sweetest effects of light. But the 
 cultivated country forms the most amusing dis¬ 
 tance. Meadows, corn-fields, hedge-row^s, spires, 
 towns and villages, though lost as single objects , 
 are all melted together into the richest mass of 
 variegated surface , over which the eye ranges 
 b 5 
 
XXXIV 
 
 EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 with delight, and following the flitting gleams of 
 sun-shine, catches a thousand dubious objects as 
 they arise, and creates as many more which do 
 not really exist. But such a country will not 
 bear a nearer approach, especially if it be over¬ 
 built, which is the case of most of the rich dis¬ 
 tances about London; the parts assume too 
 much consequence, and the whole becomes a 
 scene of confusion, (p. 172 .) 
 
 Circular Fames, surmounted by woody slopes, 
 suggest ideas of retirement; tile habitation of 
 cheerful solimde. Here a river (if any exists) 
 should ,„„1 carelessly through the lawns and 
 woods until little decoration, and buildings 
 lou c sparingly introduced, (p. 176.) 
 
 TT' a few fragments scattered around 
 the body of a ruin are proper and picturesque. 
 
 1 hey are proper, because they account for what 
 
 “ e aC ? d; and tlle y are picturesque, because 
 they unite the principal pile with the ground; 
 on w nch union, the beauty of composition, in 
 a good measure, depends. ( pp . 179 , i 80 .) The 
 
 , °f gi ' dng a finished splendour to a ruin is 
 t S ] Urd ‘ U ° W UnnaturaI ’ in a place evidently 
 forlorn and deserted by man, are the recent 
 marks of human industry. Besides, every sen- 
 
 Imteawl 1 thC SCCne SUggests is destroyed, 
 stead of that soothing melancholy, on which 
 
NORTHERN TOUR. 
 
 XXXV 
 
 the mind feeds in contemplating the ruins of 
 time, a sort of jargon is excited by these hete¬ 
 rogeneous mixtures; as if, when some grand 
 chorus had taken possession of the soul; when 
 the sounds, in all their sublimity, were yet vi¬ 
 brating on the ear, a light jig should strike up. 
 Parts should not be restored, nor ornaments 
 be added. A ruin is a sacred thing. Rooted 
 for ages in the soil; assimilated to it; and be¬ 
 come, as it were, a part of it; we consider it as 
 a work of nature, rather than of art. Art can¬ 
 not reach it. (pp. 182, 183.) 
 
 Views should be broken upon from close 
 lanes, or confined, dark spots, (p. 187.) 
 
 Buildings . If the expence which is gene¬ 
 rally laid out in our great shrubberies, on a 
 variety of little buildings, was confined to one or 
 two capital objects , the general effect would be 
 better. A profusion of buildings is one of the 
 extravagances of false taste. One object is a 
 proper ornament in every scene; more than 
 one, at least on the fore-ground, distract it. 
 (pp. 190, 191.) 
 
 Caverns . Nothing picturesque in caverns. 
 
 (p. 212.) 
 
 Rock. A single object rising among sur¬ 
 rounding woods takes away the fantastick idea 
 
xxxvi 
 
 EPITOME OF GILPIN, 
 
 of pointed rocks, and confers sublimity. It is 
 the multiplicity of these spiry heads which 
 makes them disgusting: as when we see several 
 of them adorning the summits of Alpine moun¬ 
 tains. But a solitary rock, the spiry; has often 
 a good effect, (p. 225.) The colour of all rocks 
 should be grey, because it harmonizes agreeably 
 with the rich tints of herbage, (p. 226.) 
 
 Rivers in two channels are deformities, (n 
 229.) 
 
 Houses. The entrance of a great house 
 should consist only of that kind of beauty which 
 arises meiely from simplicity and grandeur. 
 Ihese ideas, as you proceed in the apartments, 
 may detail themselves into ornaments of various 
 kinds, and m their proper places, even into 
 prettiness. Alien, misplaced, ambitious orna¬ 
 ments, no doubt, are every where disgusting; 
 but in the grand entrance of a house, they 
 should particularly be avoided. A false taste 
 iscovered there is apt to pursue you through 
 the apartments, and throw its colours on what 
 may happen to be good. (p. 237 ) 
 
 Lama, adorned on each side by a broad 
 irregular border of gmss, and winding ,1,rough 
 hedge-rows of full-grown oat. which the seve^l 
 turns of die road form into clumps, mate both 
 
SCOTTISH TOUR. 
 
 XXXV11 
 
 a good fore-ground, and give beautiful views, if 
 the country be fine, through the boles of the 
 trees, (p. 260.) 
 
 Churches. Small spires arising out of massy 
 towers are very absurd, (p. 261.) 
 
 Distances. In woody distances, intersected 
 by extensive plains, connected with the wood by 
 a sprinkling of scattered trees, the parts should 
 be large, (p. 263.) Distances, not of rising 
 ground, are uninteresting. (Append, xii.) 
 
 Scottish Tour, vol. i. —Near grounds , when 
 cultivated, are always formal and disgusting, 
 (p. 11.) 
 
 Flat Countries. Nothing sets them off more 
 than lengthened gleams of light (p. 12), but 
 too many of these gleams produce a spotti¬ 
 ness. Two of them are sufficient, and if two, 
 there should be a subordination between them. 
 The nearer may be broader and more vivid; 
 leaving the more distant a mere strip, (pp. 12, 
 13.) 
 
 Ruins. Heaps of rubbish may be ornamental 
 and useful also in uniting parts of ruins, i They 
 give something, , too, of more consequence to the 
 whole , by discovering the vestiges of what once 
 existed. Ruins should never stand naked; for 
 then all connection with the ground is destroyed. 
 In a ruin, the reigning ideas are solitude , neglect , 
 
' 
 
 xxxviii EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 and desolation, (pp. 23, 24.) The improvements 
 proper to ruins. Though we should not wish to 
 adorn it with polished nature; though the shorn 
 lawn, the flowering shrub, and the embellished 
 walk are alien ideas; yet many things offensive 
 may be removed. Some part of the rubbish, 
 or of the brushwood, may be out of place, and 
 hide what ought to be seen. The ground in 
 many parts may be altered, but discreetly al¬ 
 tered. A path may wind; but not grand walks, 
 rather for parade than contemplation. Trees 
 and water may be both introduced. But a sort 
 of negligent air should pervade the whole; and 
 if art should always he concealed, it should here 
 be totally hid. No sunk fence, or netted barrier 
 should restrain the flock. Let them browze 
 within the very precincts of the ruin. It is- a 
 habitation, forsaken of men, and resumed bv 
 nature; and though nature does not require a 
 slovenly path to walk in, yet she always wishes 
 for one with some degree of rudeness about it. 
 
 If the mansion stand near the ruins, the ruins 
 themselves will then become only appendages. 
 Neatness in part must be introduced. Yet still, 
 even in this case, one should wish to have the 
 ruins in a sequestered place, and less adorned 
 than the environs of a mansion ought to be. 
 There is another species of improvement of 
 
SCOTTISH TOUR. 
 
 XXXIX 
 
 which a ruin is susceptible; but it is of the 
 most delicate kind. Few ruins are exactly what 
 we could wish. We generally find a deficiency 
 or a redundancy , as far as composition is con¬ 
 cerned. Some ruins, from squareness, &c. may 
 be heavy, uniform, and displeasing. The parts 
 are elegant in themselves; but, for want of 
 contrast, they form a disagreeable whole. You 
 can see them to advantage only from particular 
 stands, where one part is thrown behind another 
 in perspective. By the small alteration, there¬ 
 fore, of making either part lower or higher, 
 ybu might improve the composition; but the 
 operation would be exceedingly nice. No pic¬ 
 turesque hand durst take away ; but an addition 
 might be made without much hazard, because 
 what you add, you may likewise remove . The 
 beauty of the composition , and the harmony of 
 the architecture, would be the two chief points 
 to be attended to. For instance, a fragment of 
 a tower would add to some ruins, and so de 
 cceteris; but there must be the greatest care 
 taken to observe propriety and versimilitude. 
 (pp. 24—26.) Mere shells of old churches are 
 not ornamental ruins. There should be that 
 dilapidation which gives room for the imagina¬ 
 tion to wander, (p. 31.) 
 
 Dreary scenery may be very grand , and 
 
xl 
 
 EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 perhaps should he mostly viewed from elevated 
 ground. Gilpin, speaking of a flat near the 
 close of the mountains of Stanmore, says, 
 66 From this elevated ground on which we 
 stood, the eye commands a noble sw r eep of 
 mountain scenery. The hills, sloping down on 
 both sides, form a vast bay of wide and distant 
 country, which consists of various removes, and 
 is bounded at length by the mountains of Cum¬ 
 berland. The lines are elegant, and the whole 
 picturesque, as far as a distance, enriched neither 
 by wood, nor any other object, can be so. The 
 scene, though naked, is immensely grand. It 
 has a good effect in its present state, uniting a 
 dreary distance with a dreary country, and a 
 w r ild fore-ground. We might, perhaps, have a 
 better effect if the distance were more enriched. 
 The beauties of contrast would then succeed 
 happily to those of uniformity , at least, if the 
 middle ground, or second distance, were some¬ 
 what rough, and the landscape proceeded gra¬ 
 dually from that roughness into a rich distance, 
 (pp. 33. 34.) 
 
 Sides of mountains are much enriched by 
 mosses of different hues. (p. 48.) 
 
 Bridges. Rough, old bridges are very pic¬ 
 turesque. (p. 49.) 
 
 Mountains . Naked mountains form poor 
 
SCOTTISH TOUR. 
 
 Xli 
 
 composition. They require the drapery of a 
 little wood to break the simplicity of their 
 shapes, to produce contrasts, to connect one 
 part with another, and give that richness in 
 landscape which is one of its greatest ornaments, 
 (p. 50.) It is not often that these elevated 
 bodies coincide with the rules of beauty and 
 composition; less often, indeed, than any other 
 mode of landscape. In a level country, the 
 awkwardness of a line is hid. But the moun¬ 
 tain, rearing its opaqueness against the sky, 
 shews every fault, both in its delineation and 
 combination, with great exactness, (p. 51.) 
 Mere hills often look like mountains when seen 
 through mist. (p. 53.) 
 
 A house with rising ground before it , is badly 
 situated, (p. 54.) 
 
 The romantic and picturesque are not synoni- 
 mous. Arthur’s seat, near Edinburgh, Gilpin 
 calls romantic , but not picturesque, (p. 53.) It 
 is odd, mis-shapen, and uncouth, and gave us 
 (he says) the idea of a cap of maintenance in 
 heraldry; and a view, with such a staring feature 
 in it, can no more be picturesque, than a face 
 with a bulbous nose can be beautiful, (pp. 59, 
 60 .) 
 
 Situations of houses . The horizontal lines of 
 
XL11 
 
 EPITOME of GILPIN. 
 
 he house [that of Hopton], and the diverging 
 «nes of the hill accord agreeably. A regular 
 budding always appears best when thus con- 
 
 s n ourc a S ° me irregUkr ° bjeCt A new 
 source of beauty arises from the contrast; and, 
 
 a good efflr " regUkr bUiWing haS Seld ° m 
 
 never 7' C ^ and angIeS uncontrasted > can 
 never be picturesque, (p. 68.) 
 
 .Bays, or Estuaries, sometimes assuming 
 f 6 <* a lake, sometimes of a river, am 
 
 equally grand under both ideas, especially when 
 grounded by mountains of various forms, and 
 placed at various distances, (p. 69.) 
 
 Views A country may please die eye in all 
 naked and unadorned rudeness; but when 
 a portion of it is selected from view, its features 
 
 it J t “ nCOmraon] y str ^hing, if it can support 
 e f without the ornaments of some artificial 
 
 5* ** . scene U 
 
 adds dignity to it. (pp. 7 j ? 72 .) 
 
 J h : *** gives' the happiest e f- 
 
 fects to objects, (p. 72 .) ^ 
 
 Situation of Jiov q a • • 
 
 nouses. A rising ground run- 
 
 nnig into a lake can rarely fail of pleasing, (p. 
 Bound lakes, viewed on a level, may lose the 
 
 
SCOTTISH TOUR. 
 
 circular appearance, stretch into lengths, and 
 form many beautiful bays. (p. 89.) 
 
 Light-grey mists exhibit, in great perfection, 
 a graduating tint, which is among the most 
 pleasing sources of beauty, (p. 91.) 
 
 A Noon-day sun ,, and a full profusion of 
 light, are unfavourable; because, to give a land¬ 
 scape its full advantages, the shadow, not the 
 light, should prevail. 
 
 Mountains , particularly, should be in shade. 
 In almost all cases, the darkened mountain 
 makes the most respectable figure, except per¬ 
 haps when, under a morning or an evening sun, 
 we wish to top its prominent knolls with light. 
 Under the shadow of mountains, a gentle light 
 spreading into a vale has a beautiful effect; 
 and, as it decays, it may mark two or three 
 objects with splendour, to carry on the idea to 
 the end of the scene, (p. 99.) 
 
 A j River running in a direct straight line be¬ 
 tween parallel banks, is an awkwardness which 
 may destroy the picturesqueness of a scene, (p. 
 107.) 
 
 There is something very amusing, even in 
 a hasty succession of beautiful scenes. The 
 imagination is kept in a pleasing perturba¬ 
 tion while these floating, unconnected ideas 
 
 ^ H 
 
 hi 
 
 
 
 H 
 
 ■ 
 
 A 
 
 I 
 
 
Xliv EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 become a kind of waking dream, and are often 
 wrought up by fancy into more pleasing pic¬ 
 tures than they in fact appear to be, when they 
 are viewed with deliberate attention, (p. 112.) 
 
 Rivers which are wild and beautiful require 
 only a simple path to show their different ap¬ 
 pearances in the most advantageous manner. 
 In adorning such a path, the native forest wood, 
 and natural brush of the place, are sufficient, (p. 
 119 .) 
 
 Rocks should have no artificial ornaments. 
 
 (p. 120.) 
 
 Cascades of the finest kind. The two rocky 
 cheeks of the river fat Dunkeldj almost uniting, 
 compress the stream into a very narrow com¬ 
 pass; and the channel, which descends abruptly, 
 taking also a sudden turn, the water suffers 
 more than common violence, through the double 
 resistance which it receives from compression 
 and obliquity. Its efforts to disengage itself 
 have, in a course of ages, undermined, dis¬ 
 jointed, and fractured the rock in a thousand 
 different forms; and have filled the whole chan¬ 
 nel of the descent with fragments of uncommon 
 magnitude, which are the more easily esta¬ 
 blished, one upon the broken edge of another 
 as the fall is rather inclined than perpendicular! 
 
SCOTTISH TOUR. 
 
 XiV 
 
 Down tliis abrupt channel, the whole stream, in 
 foaming violence forcing its way through the 
 peculiar and happy situation of the fragments 
 which oppose its course, forms a most grand 
 and beautiful cascade. At the bottom it has 
 worn an abyss, in which the wheeling waters 
 311 * suffer a new agitation, though of a different 
 kind. This whole scene, and its accompani- 
 W0(t ments, are not only grand, but picturesquely 
 
 “Mf beautiful in the highest degree, (pp. 121, 122.) 
 
 Rivers with romantic banks should have the 
 path carried up one side of them, and down the 
 other, winding artlessly to those parts where the 
 xtj most beautiful views are presented, without any 
 ing, openings, formal stands, white seats, or other 
 :om- artificial introductions, preparatory to the se- 
 ptlji veral scenes, (pp. 128.) 
 
 iff® Rivers, beautiful. Gilpin says of the bay, 
 
 ins’: sometimes it came running up to the fore- 
 
 ssitt ground; then it would hide itself behind a 
 
 its! woody precipice; then again, when we knew 
 
 & not what was become of it, it would appear in 
 
 an! the distance, forming its meanders along some 
 b winding vale. (p. 131.) 
 
 Mi River-scenes, beautiful. Gilpin, speaking of 
 
 * a scene on the summit, says, this view was 
 
 her, almost purely picturesque. A broad sand-bank 
 
 1» 
 
xlvi 
 
 EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 stretched before the eye, as a second distance, 
 round which the river formed an indented 
 curve; its banks were well decorated; and the 
 view was closed in the fashion of Scotch land¬ 
 scape, with beautiful mountains, (p. 132.) 
 
 Passes between Mountains sometimes form 
 magnificent scenes. The vallies of approach 
 may be beautiful; the mountains may expand 
 in noble, irregular wings; a shelf road may 
 run half-way up the hills, and a river may foam 
 beneath; or a sloping corner of a mountain, 
 with the road winding round it, may form the 
 fore-ground; the middle be occupied by a river 
 and bridge; and some of the grand prominences 
 of the pass fill the distance; or another scene 
 may^ consist chiefly of a second distance, in 
 which the river forms a sort of pool, and the 
 mountains form a pleasing combination around 
 it. Within such passes generally occurs every 
 species of rough and picturesque scenery. Inn 
 134, 135.) ' ^ 
 
 Cascades bad, if of streams falling into a 
 , river, because they appear small by compa¬ 
 rison, and do not fill the eye like a river 
 pouring down between rocks, and seen as a 
 simple object in one grand point of view. (pp. 
 HO, 141.) 
 
SCOTTISH TOUR. xlvii 
 
 Valley, beautiful. The sides and bottoms 
 wholly filled with wood, through which winds 
 a rocky and sounding stream, (p. 141.) 
 
 Cascade, bad, one naked in its accompani¬ 
 ments. (p. 146.) 
 
 Passes betiveen Mountains. These are fine, 
 when mountains retire in different distances 
 from the eye, and marshalling themselves in 
 the most beautiful forms, and expand their vast 
 concave forms to receive the most enchanting 
 lights, (p. 146.) 
 
 Vallies, beautiful. A champaign, of four 
 or five miles long, and nearly two broad; a 
 winding road through the middle; on one side 
 a mountain screen, wooded with clumps, and 
 varied with objects, has made them at a distance 
 wear an equivocal veil; on the other side a bold 
 and rocky screen; the middle occupied by a 
 fine distance of retiring mountains, (p. 152.) 
 
 Lake-scenery , very grand. A lofty mountain 
 falling into the water, and forming a grand 
 promontory; the lines at the base finely broken 
 by a wooded island; another promontory pro¬ 
 jecting from the opposite shore, and both to¬ 
 gether forming the water into a spacious bay 
 between the two promontories; the distant 
 mountains receding in perspective, and the 
 
xlviii 
 
 EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 lake going off in the form of another bay. (p. 
 153.) 
 
 Walks, bad , when they do not take such 
 circuits as shew the scene to advantage, (p. 
 158,) or are mere avenues to tawdry, inelegant 
 buildings, which terminate them. (p. 158.) 
 
 Situations of houses. A noble distance, 
 “ longos quae prospicit agros,” is the most 
 desirable. 
 
 Distant views , if there is a good fore-ground, 
 are generally the most pleasing, as they contain 
 the greatest variety, both in themselves and 
 their accidental variations, (p. 159.) 
 
 Rivers are bad when they exhibit no bold 
 shores, broken promontories, nor sides clothed 
 with wood. (p. 167.) 
 
 Hills , wooded, finely disposed, and screening 
 little irriguous vallies, are good. (p. 168.) 
 
 Heaths , though totally naked, are in their 
 simplicity often sublime; the ground heaving, 
 like the ocean, into ample swells, and sub¬ 
 siding into vallies equally magnificent. In the 
 smaller parts, the winding of rivulets in their 
 rocky beds, and little bustling cascades, are of 
 picturesque character, (p. 172.) 
 
 Lake-scenery , fine, distant hills making an 
 
 O 
 
 agieeable boundary to the water; promontories 
 banging over islands. 
 
SCOTTISH TOUR. xlix 
 
 ®y. |i Use of Islands. The great picturesque view 
 
 of islands, in the situations last described, is to 
 ■t sii bieak the tedious lines of such promontories 
 
 1 $ and mountains as fall into the water, (p. 173.) 
 
 lelfjs; Lake-scenery may fall off in good perspective, 
 
 8.) an d exhibit a great variety of bays, promonto- 
 
 istu ries > and large peninsulas, and yet be bad; be- 
 
 e n cause the islands may be formally stationed, and 
 
 many of the mountain screens, unadorned with 
 rroK wood, be tame and unbroken, (p. 177.) 
 at: Mountains are good, when some of them are 
 
 ess broken, and others adorned with wood. (p. 181.) 
 
 Lakes may not only be beautiful in them- 
 bol selves ’ but form fine contrasts with the woods 
 DtW and mountains around them. (p. 182.) 
 
 Bays, in general, are better when going off' 
 ■jiflc *** perspective, than of a circular form. (p. 184.) 
 
 Vol. ii. — Mountains. Nothing exalts the dig- 
 tkii nitv of a mountain so much as its rising from 
 viif, the water>s ed g e - In measuring it, as it appears 
 4 connected with the ground, the eye knows not 
 where to be gm, but continues creeping up in 
 c ; quest of a base, till half the mountain is lost. 
 But a water-line prevents this ambiguity, and to 
 the height of the mountain even adds the edging 
 at the bottom, which naturally belongs to it. 
 ,„ 5 Such mountains have a more respectable ap- 
 
 c 
 
V 
 
 1 
 
 EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 t 
 
 ft' 
 
 pearance than many others of twice the height, 
 unconnected with water, (p. 2.) 
 
 Lake-screens may be good from the line 
 which the summits form, and the water-line 
 formed by projections into the lake. (p. 3.) 
 
 Mountains and Vallies. A wild and most sub¬ 
 lime valley (that of Kinlar) is thus described. 
 Two ranges of mountains, which form its screens, 
 approach within two or three hundred yards. 
 They were magnificent, and yet well propor¬ 
 tioned ; bare of wood, indeed, but rich from a 
 varied and broken surface. Through the valley 
 ran a stream, tumbling violently over the rocky 
 fragments that oppose its course, (p. 7.) 
 
 Mountains brought near the eye, like objects 
 in a microscope, appear monstrous. They re¬ 
 quire distance to give them softness, and re¬ 
 move deformities. 
 
 Vallies of a similar kind, but of fine pastur- 
 age, require the bottom and screens io be 
 planted, (p. 11.) 
 
 Rocks should have their craggy sides finely 
 broken, (p. 46.) 
 
 Peninsulas , adorned with a back ground of 
 mountains, look well. (p. 55.) 
 
 Views. Too many breaks in a view injure 
 the perspective, (p. 56.) 
 
 Ci 
 
SCOTTISH TOUR. 
 
 li 
 
 Houses , consisting of a centre, with two very 
 deep wings tacked to them at right angles, 
 cannot be beautiful, (p. 57.) 
 
 Dells. Frequent as they are in mountainous 
 countries, and rarely as they are marked with 
 any striking or peculiar features, yet they are 
 always varied and always pleasing. Their se¬ 
 questered paths; the ideas of solitude which 
 they convey; the rivulets which either sound or 
 murmur through them; the interwoven woods, 
 and frequent openings either to the country or 
 to some little pleasing spot within themselves, 
 form together such an assemblage of soothing 
 ingredients, that they have always a wonderful 
 effect on the imagination, (p. 66.) 
 
 Mountains , though void of furniture, may 
 form pleasing lines and contrasts, (p. 67.) 
 
 Cascades. The falls of Cory-Lin, near La¬ 
 nark, are very grand. From a lofty seat you 
 look over the tufted tops of trees, and see the 
 river beyond them precipitating itself from rock 
 to rock, rather passing along an abrupt slope 
 than down a perpendicular descent. The two 
 cheeks are rugged precipices, adorned with 
 broken rocks. On the edge of one of these 
 cheeks stands a solitary tower. A path leads 
 to the top of the falls, where, from a projecting 
 c 2 
 
lii 
 
 EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 rock, you have a tremendous view down the 
 furious cataract. Further on are more falls, 
 (p- 72.) 
 
 Rising grounds as situations for houses . 
 Drumlanrig House stands on a rising ground, 
 on the side of a vast sweeping hill, surrounded 
 by mountains, at the distance of two or three 
 miles. This is one of the grand situations 
 which a mountainous country affords; and it is 
 often as beautiful as it is grand; but its beauty 
 depends upon the elegant lines which the sur¬ 
 rounding mountains form, upon their recesses, 
 their ornaments, their rugged surface, their 
 variety and contrast. It depends, also, upon 
 the contents of the area within the mountains ; 
 its hills, its broken grounds, its woods, rivers, 
 and lakes. Here the mountain-screens, in them¬ 
 selves, have no peculiar beauty; but the cir¬ 
 cular vale which they environ, and in which the 
 house stands, is so broken by intervening hills, 
 so adorned with rivers, and varied with wood, 
 that many of its scenes are beautiful, and the 
 whole greatly diversified. A situation of this 
 kind, circumscribed by hills, which keep the 
 eye within bounds, must always want one of the 
 greatest beauties of nature—an extensive distance . 
 The garden front opens on a very delightful 
 

 SCOTTISH tour. liii 
 
 piece of scenery. The ground falls from it near 
 a quarter of a mile, in a steep, sloping lawn, 
 which at the bottom is received by a river, and 
 beyond that rises a lofty, woody bank. (p. 83.) 
 
 Rivers, Rapid streams winding between high, 
 sloping, woody banks, with rocky channels ob¬ 
 structing the water, are always pleasing, though 
 common in mountainous countries, (p. 87.) 
 
 Flats, There is something pleasing in those 
 long stretches of sand, distant country, and 
 water, which flat shores exhibit. The parts 
 are often large, well-tinted, and well-contrasted. 
 Often, too, their various surfaces appear ambi¬ 
 guous, and are melted together by light mists 
 into one mass. They are beautiful in that am- 
 biguity; as they are, also, when the vapours, 
 vanishing into a gleam of sun-shine, breaks out 
 and shoot over them in lengthened gleams. 
 To make pictures of them, in either case, the 
 fore-ground must be adorned with objects, masts 
 of ships, figures, cattle, or other proper appen¬ 
 dages, to break the lines of distance, (p. 102.) 
 
 Bays, One, where stands the seat of the Earl 
 of Selkirk, near Dumfries, is singular and beau¬ 
 tiful. Where the coast runs almost directly 
 opposite to the South, a bay enters it of consi¬ 
 derable circumference. The entrance is narrow, 
 
Ixiv EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 and occupied by an island, which forms the 
 whole into a grand lake, about nine or ten miles 
 in circumference. The ground which circles 
 it is high, but rather hilly than mountainous. 
 Some parts of it are rocky; others are planted. 
 At the bottom of the bay, a peninsula, about a 
 mile long, and half a mile broad, runs into it. 
 On this peninsula stands the house. Situations 
 of this kind depend chiefly, for their beauty, on 
 the grounds which environ the water, (pp. 103, 
 104.) 
 
 Village. Gretna Green, of matrimonial ce¬ 
 lebrity, is very pleasing. The village is con¬ 
 cealed by a grove of trees, which occupy a gentle 
 rise, at the end of which stands the church; 
 and the picture is finished with two distances, 
 one of which is very remote, (p. 107.) 
 
 Tracts in a state of nature. Vast, extensive, 
 flat countries, though covered with wood, cannot 
 possess much beauty. Seen from the sea, they 
 are mere woody lines; and examined in their 
 internal parts, the eye is every where confined, 
 and can see only the trees which circumscribe 
 it. The only countries which are picturesque 
 in a state of nature, are such as consist of va¬ 
 riety, both of soil and ground. You must have 
 variety of soil, that some parts may be covered 
 
SCOTTISH TOUR* 
 
 Iv 
 
 with wood, and others with heath or pasturage. 
 You must have variety of ground , that you may 
 view the several parts of the country with ad¬ 
 vantage. Rivers, also, and lakes, belong to a 
 state of nature. Almost every where, pure na¬ 
 ture produces something of grandeur or beauty, 
 (pp. 113—115.) 
 
 Distances. Poverty of landscape consists in 
 deficiency of objects, especially of wood. In 
 most parts of England, the view’s are rich. 
 Near the Capital, especially, objects are scat¬ 
 tered in such profusion, that, unless the dis¬ 
 tance be very remote, they are injurious to 
 landscape, by distracting the eye. But a Scotch 
 distance rarely exhibits any variety of objects. 
 It is, in general, a barren tract of the same 
 uniform, unbroken hue; fatiguing the eye for 
 w r ant of variety, and giving the imagination 
 little scope for the amusement which it often 
 finds amid the ambiguity of remote objects, 
 (p. 119.) 
 
 Simplicity and Variety are the acknow ledged 
 foundations of all picturesque effect. Either of 
 them will produce it: but it generally takes its 
 line from one. When the landscape approaches 
 nearer to simplicity, it approaches nearer the sub¬ 
 lime ; and when variety prevails, it tends more 
 
Ivi EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 to the beautiful. A vast range of mountains, 
 the lines of which are simple, and the surface 
 broad, grand and extensive, is rather sublime 
 than beautiful. Add trees upon the fore-ground, 
 tufted woods creeping up the sides of the hills, 
 a castle upon some knoll, and skiffs upon the 
 lake (if there be one), and though the land¬ 
 scape will still be sublime , yet, with these addi¬ 
 tions (if tliey are happily introduced), the beau¬ 
 tiful will predominate. Sublime ideas are the 
 effect of unadorned grandeur. The broken 
 lines and surfaces of the latter, mix variety 
 enough with their simplicity to make them often 
 noble subjects of painting. Indeed, wild scenes 
 of sublimity, unadorned even by a single tree, 
 form in themselves a very grand species of 
 landscape, (pp. 121, 122.) 
 
 Firs. Ihe Scotch fir is naturally a beautiful 
 tree. The Spruce fir is often, also, as a single 
 tree, an object of great beauty, spiring in a 
 pyramidal form, and yet varying its lateral 
 branches, especially when they are a little bro¬ 
 ken, so as to remove every unpleasant idea of 
 uniformity; and when it receives the sun, its 
 bioken parts, splendid with light, and hanging 
 against the dark recesses in the body of the 
 tree, have a fine effect, (pp. 124, 125.) 
 
SCOTTISH TOUR. lvii 
 
 Mountains should not have grotesque or un¬ 
 pleasing forms. A general elegance should run 
 through their lines and intersections. A moun¬ 
 tain is of use sometimes to close a distance, by 
 an elegant, varied line, and sometimes to come 
 in a second ground, hanging over a lake, or 
 forming a screen to die nearer objects. A grand 
 chain of blue mountains is a fine termination of 
 a distance, (pp. 127, 128.) 
 
 Lakes should have fine sweeping lines, hays, 
 recesses, islands, mountain screens, and woody 
 embellishments, (p. 129.) 
 
 JEstuanes. In England, the shores are ge¬ 
 nerally low and tame, and the aestuaries often 
 too wide. The water gets out of proportion, 
 which it always does, if it extend more than a 
 mile, or a mile and a half in breadth. In short, 
 English aestuaries are tame and disproportioned. 
 But the Scotch aestuaries, having their bounda¬ 
 ries generally marked by the former barriers of 
 mountains, are kept within narrower limits, and 
 rarely exceed a proper width, unless just at 
 their mouths, and even then the height of the 
 mountain is generally such as to preserve a 
 tolerable proportion between the land and the 
 water, (p. 132.) 
 
 Rivers. Made rivers are, in general, poor, 
 c 5 
 
Iviii 
 
 EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 unnatural things. One good torrent stream is 
 fairly worth all the serpentine rivers in England. ’ 
 (p. 141.) 
 
 Fore-grounds. The grand scenery of nature 
 may sometimes be improved by the addition of 
 a good fore-ground ; and this is essential about 
 good houses, (p. 142.) 
 
 Mountainous countries are greatly effected by 
 lights, shades, mists, and a variety of other cir¬ 
 cumstances, for their effects, (p. 145.) 
 
 Mountains and Vales. The former may be 
 very good when they do not hang over the vale, 
 when they are removed to a proper distance, 
 and form a grand back-ground to all the objects 
 of it. The vale is beautiful when it consists of 
 great variety of ground, is adorned with wood, 
 and a river runs through it. (p. 149.) 
 
 Vales comprising both the sublime and beau¬ 
 tiful. A cultivated vale is screened by moun¬ 
 tains, which, winding round, push their bases 
 into it in different directions, and form many 
 bays, and promontories of broken ground, as 
 they unite with the vale. In the middle, a 
 portion of a lake makes an ample sweep, (p. 
 154.) 
 
 Lakes too narrow to be viewed across, mav 
 have a fine effect when taken in perspective. 
 
 (p. 155.) 
 
SCOTTISH TOUR. 
 
 lix 
 
 Mountain-vistas . A grand one is thus depic¬ 
 tured : A concave part of the base of Skiddaw, 
 sweeping to the road, forms the near screen oi 
 the left; on the right is a chain of broken 
 mountains running in perspective, and the lake 
 [of Bassenthwait] having now changed its form, 
 appears like a noble river winding under them, 
 (p. 15?.) 
 
 Isthmus, A fine one has beautiful meadows, 
 a lake, and rocky mountains on every side, 
 (p. 158.) 
 
 Mountains lose all fantastick, grotesque, and 
 disagreeable forms at a distance, (p. 159.) 
 
 Lake of Keswick. The whole lake together 
 you seldom see; but you have every where the 
 most beautiful views of portions of it; open 
 bays, deep recesses, and spreading sheets, 
 accompanied, both in the distance and fore¬ 
 grounds, with such variety of rocks, wood, and 
 broken knolls, as few landscapes exhibit in so 
 small a compass, (p. 160.) 
 
 Paths and Roads about beautiful objects 
 should open on beautiful parts, run obliquely, 
 and give only catching views; sometimes en¬ 
 tirely lose sight of the object; for a pause in a 
 grand continuation of scenery is often as pleasing 
 as in a concert of music. It makes the eye, in 
 

 IX EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 one case, as the ear in the other, more alert for 
 every new exhibition, (p. 162.) 
 
 Deformities in Nature. In ‘Nature’s works 
 there is seldom any deformity. Rough knolls, 
 and rocks, and broken ground, are the very 
 essence of beautiful landscape; but still the 
 craggy points, summits, and whole forms of 
 mountains, may not be good; knots on the 
 fore-ground may offend ; bushes and rough un- I 
 derwood may be in the way; trees and clumps 
 may pnice themselves between the eye and some 
 beautiful part of the scene: all these may be 
 removed, but not more, where Nature herself 
 has made the scene fine. (pp. 163, 164.) 
 
 Planting. The chief uses of planting in 
 scenery are to set off beauty , and to hide such de¬ 
 formities as we cannot remove. The best mode 
 of planting is to plant profusely, and thus to 
 afford scope for the felling axe. That is the 
 instrument which gives the finishing touch of 
 picturesque effect. It forms the outline and 
 marks the breaks. No human judgment can 
 manage this business completely in the first 
 planting; yet human judgment in the first 
 planting should, nevertheless, do what it can; 
 and, under the management of taste, an arti¬ 
 ficial wood may attain great beauty, and vie, 
 
SCOTTISH TOUR. 
 
 hi 
 
 in some degree, with the beautiful effect of 
 nature. As for any particular rules of planting 
 fine scenes, none can be given. They must be 
 adapted to the spot. Fore-grounds and back¬ 
 grounds are equally susceptible of the beauties 
 of wood, only, in general, contrast should be 
 observed. The whole side of a hill, for in¬ 
 stance, should not be planted, but parts of it be 
 left bare. Sometimes the top may be planted, 
 and sometimes the bottom; and if the wood run 
 down to fine water in one part, the contiguous 
 shore will, perhaps, appear better unadorned. 
 The fore-grounds, however, must generally be 
 adorned with wood. But wood is useful, also, 
 in hiding deformities. Scenes, however beau¬ 
 tiful, will always have many parts to hide. But 
 to hide them from every station is impossible; 
 and what may appear from one station as a 
 beauty, may present itself from another as a 
 deformity. All that can be done on this head 
 is to have respect to the several roads and paths 
 marked out, to endeavour, as much as possible, 
 by trees on the fore-ground, to plant out from 
 thence, at least, every thing offensive. Even 
 the ill-formed points and prominencies of moun¬ 
 tains, where they are most offensive, may be 
 screened, in some views at least, by the foliage 
 of a spreading tree. (pp. 165—167.) 
 
Ixii 
 
 EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 Ornaments should never be staring things 
 from the top of a hill, or be placed directly in 
 the front of a view. Rude bridges over rocky 
 chasms, foot-bridges over rivulets, and humble 
 things of that kind, are fittest, (pp. 170, 171.) 
 
 Trees which have been distorted by the wind 
 are unnatural, and any tree which takes an 
 inclined direction after it is full-grown, appears 
 to be in an unnatural state, (p. 181.) 
 
 Lakes and Rivers , artificial . Whether a lake 
 or a river is aimed at, the extremities should be 
 provided for; and if the artificial squareness of 
 the mole, which forms the lake, cannot be hid 
 or disguised, the idea of a lake thould be drop¬ 
 ped, and that of a river be adopted, (p. 184.) 
 
 Vallies. A valley screened on both sides by 
 wood, and bounded by distant country and 
 mountains, is good. Vales in cultivation have 
 no place in the fore-ground, but in the distance. 
 They afford no circumstances on the spot. (pp. 
 186, 187.) 
 
 Extremities ought to wind in such a manner 
 as to promise something still beyond them, and 
 to lead the imagination to investigate parts un¬ 
 seen.— Append, xvi. 
 
lxiii 
 
 SOUTHERN TOUR. 
 
 The Coasts of Hampshire, Sussex, Kent, 
 &c. 
 
 Water accommodates itself in landscape to 
 various objects. It opposes a flat surface to a 
 prominent one, smoothness to roughness, and 
 transparency to opacity. It accommodates itself, 
 also, with the same ease, to every form of coun¬ 
 try, by the various shapes which its flexibility 
 assumes. On the plain it rolls majestically 
 along in the form of a deep, winding river, and 
 thus adds either by its grandeur to an imperfect 
 scene, or is a good accompaniment to a sublime 
 country, or is merely a scene of rural pleasure, 
 with flocks and herds, &c. In a mountainous 
 country it becomes sometimes a lake, sometimes 
 a furious torrent broken among shelves and 
 rocks, or precipitates itself in some headlong 
 cascade. When it goes to sea, it sometimes 
 covers half a hemisphere with molten glass, or 
 it rolls about in awful swells, and when it ap¬ 
 proaches the shore it breaks gently into curling 
 waves, or dashes itself into foam against op¬ 
 posing promontories. Water , therefore, is one 
 of the grand accompaniments of landscape, (pp. 
 1, 2, 3.) 
 
 
 i 
 
lxiv EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 Coast Scenery excites ideas of grandeur. 
 Winding bays, views of the ocean, promon¬ 
 tories, rocks of every kind and form, estuaries, 
 mouths of rivers, islands, shooting peninsulas, 
 extensive sand-banks, and all these, adorned, 
 occasionally, with castles, light-houses, distant 
 towns, towers, harbours, all the furniture of 
 navigation, and other incidental circumstances, 
 which belong to sea-coasts, form a rich collec¬ 
 tion of grand and picturesque materials. To 
 all these circumstances of grandeur in the coast 
 view , we may add those vast masses of light 
 and shade which the ocean exhibits, and which, 
 often spreading many leagues unbroken and un¬ 
 disturbed, yet gradually fading away, give in¬ 
 stances of grandeur which no land illuminations 
 can reach. To this we may add the brilliant 
 hues which are continually playing on the sur¬ 
 face of a quiet ocean. Beautiful, no doubt, in 
 a high degree, are those glimmering tints which 
 often invest the tops of mountains; but they 
 are mere coruscations compared with these ma¬ 
 rine colours, which are continually varying and 
 shifting into each other, in all the vivid splen¬ 
 dour of the rainbow, through the space often of 
 several leagues. 
 
 To these grand ideas, which accompany the 
 
SOUTHERN TOUR. 
 
 Ixv 
 
 stillness of the ocean, we may add the sublimity 
 of storms. A raging sea, no doubt, breaks the 
 uniformity of light and colour, and destroys, of 
 course, that grandeur in the ocean which arises 
 from the continuation of the same idea . But it 
 substitutes another species of grandeur in its 
 room: it substitutes immense masses of water, 
 rising, in some parts, to an awful height, and 
 sinking, in others, into dark abysses; rolling in 
 vast volumes clashing with each other, then 
 breaking and flashing light in every direction. 
 All this is among the grandest exhibitions which 
 water presents, (pp. 4, 5.) 
 
 Coast views are best taken on shore; because 
 at sea the point is too low, and because that 
 denies a fore-ground, unless we supply one arti¬ 
 ficially. (p. 7.) 
 
 Ruins in elevated ground, shaded with wood, 
 are fine. (p. 9.) 
 
 Towns standing in a sort of amphitheatre, 
 surrounded by woody hills, are picturesque. 
 
 (p. 10.) 
 
 Heaths are not void of beauty when they are 
 connected with woody lanes; are bold sweeps of 
 high ground, furnishing extensive view's; groves, 
 and corners of woods brushing up in rich 
 
Ixvi 
 
 EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 scenery to the very tops of the high grounds, or 
 forming pleasant bays at bottom, (p. 10.) 
 
 Church Towers bosomed in wood, and seated 
 under hills, denoting a town, make a distance 
 interesting, (p. 11.) 
 
 Downs , though not picturesque, are often 
 amusing from the intersections and play of the 
 grounds, (p. 12.) 
 
 Fir groves are only heavy, murky spots, un¬ 
 less thinly planted. (p. 12.) 
 
 Roads are fine when they pass through woods 
 oak, sometimes close, sometimes open; form in 
 one place an irregular vista; in another, cross 
 lawns, interspersed with trees, and double, little, 
 shooting promontories, composed either of single 
 trees, or of patches of wood. (p. 13.) 
 
 Downs , forming promontories, projecting in 
 beautiful perspective into their several vallies, 
 are good. (p. 41.) 
 
 Improvements of Ruins . All contiguous ob¬ 
 jects should suit each other, and likewise the 
 situations in which they are placed. A modern 
 building admits modern improvements; a ruin 
 rejects them. This rule, though founded in 
 nature, and obvious to sense, is scarcely ever 
 observed. Wherever we see a ruin in the 
 
u 
 
 SOUTHERN TOUR. lxvii 
 
 hands of improvement, we may be almost sure 
 of seeing it deformed. A ruin may, indeed, 
 stand as an ornament in an improved scene; 
 but then it must appear that the improved scene 
 does not belong to the ruin, but that the ruin 
 got accidentally into the improved scene. No 
 improvement, however, should come within the 
 precincts of the ruin. Deformities alone may 
 be removed; and if the ruin retire into some 
 sequestered place, and is seen only through 
 trees, or rising above some screening wood, its 
 situation is better than if it stood a glaring ob¬ 
 ject in full sight, (p. 46.) 
 
 Old and new buildings , mixture of, reminds 
 us of the barbarous cruelty of uniting living 
 bodies to dead— 
 
 “ Mortua quinetiam jungebat corpora vivis 
 Componens — 4 * 
 
 only here the injury is greater. The barbarian, 
 of whom this fact is related, only injured the 
 living; but the modern barbarian injures both 
 the living and the dead. The habitable house 
 suffers equally with the ruin to which it is 
 joined. Besides, the modern mansion requires 
 the hand of neatness and elegance about it, 
 which the ruin totally abhors. It is the hand 
 
Jxviii EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 of nature, alone, which can confer that grandeur 
 and solemnity in which ruins delight, (p. 52.) 
 
 Situation of houses . A very fine one is a 
 gentle rise, with a beautiful concave sweep be¬ 
 fore it of meadows and woods, confined by 
 woody hills, that form a valley, at the end of 
 which it is still better if there be water. (p. 65.) 
 
 Sea views appear to great advantage over a 
 rich wooded country; also when seen from 
 rocky hills, extending over a sweeping line of 
 bay, bounded by a lofty promontory of fore¬ 
 land. (pp. 57, 58.) 
 
 Chapels , Churches , or Ruths , seated among 
 lofty trees, on projecting knolls, are fine. (p. 62.) 
 
 Hilly country . The interior of an extensive 
 country which is hilly and well-wooded, offers 
 frequent home scenes in its vallies and grand 
 distances, (p. 64.) 
 
 Sea views should be adorned with winding 
 coasts, (p. 67.) 
 
 Churches, Elevations of the chancel have a 
 good effect, and shew, in miniature, what gran¬ 
 deur would accompany such an elevation in 
 churches of larger dimensions, and more superb 
 architecture, (p. 69.) 
 
 Castle views. A w r ell-shaped hill makes a 
 good back-ground to a castle. 
 
SOUTHERN TOUR. 
 
 lxix 
 
 Vallies , if beautifully wooded, set off the high 
 grounds which they intersect, especially if those 
 high grounds are of chalk and rock. (p. 71.) 
 
 Sea-coast rocks . The sea-coast rock is infe¬ 
 rior to the land-rock from its want of accompa¬ 
 niments. But the chalky cliff is still in a lower 
 style. It is a blank, glaring surface, with little 
 beauty, either of form or colour, and in such 
 cliffs , the zig-zag edges occasioned by the shi¬ 
 vering of the chalk at the top, may add to the 
 disagreeableness of their appearance, (p. 78.) 
 
 Union of grounds . The smooth aud the rough 
 generally unite imperceptibly, (p. 79.) 
 
 Castles, The earliest castle we know in Eng¬ 
 land was the Norman, which was something 
 between a fortress and a mansion. It was 
 seated, generally, on some projecting knoll, 
 without any regular plan. Tower was added 
 to tower, square or round, adhering or pro¬ 
 jecting, just as the inequality of the ground, or 
 the chieftain’s humour prescribed. In the mid¬ 
 dle of the area (for a lofty wall generally encom¬ 
 passes a spacious court), in a mound, either 
 natural or artificial, was reared some super- 
 eminent part, which w as called the keep. These 
 are by far the most picturesque castles we know; 
 and the only castles we use in the adorning 
 
lxx EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 landscape. The irregularity of the original 
 plan admits still more irregularity when the 
 castle becomes a ruin. 
 
 The Coast Castle takes a more regular form, 
 and aims at some degree of mutual defence among 
 its several parts. Each tower can give some 
 assistance to its neighbour, though but imper¬ 
 fectly sustained. In a picturesque light, how¬ 
 ever, though the whole is too regular, as the 
 idea of a keep or prominent part is still pre¬ 
 served, we get a tolerable ruin from these 
 castles, also, especially when one or two of the 
 surrounding towers are decayed, and a chasm is 
 introduced. In later times, when the preci¬ 
 sion of mathematics applied to military archi¬ 
 tecture took place ; then the salient angle, the 
 ravelin and glacis, were produced: forms so com¬ 
 pletely unpicturesque, that no part of them, 
 unless, perhaps, the corner of a bastion or 
 battery, can be introduced into a picture, and 
 that only when there are objects at hand to act 
 in contrast with them. (p. 88.) 
 
 Cliffs . Regular chalky cliffs, ranging in a 
 line, are only chalk walls, (p. 92.) 
 
 Views , however amusing, may not be pic¬ 
 turesque. They may be too large for the eye to 
 comprehend, and want, besides, a proportion 
 
SOUTHERN TOUR. Ixxi 
 
 of fore-ground, being chiefly made up of dis¬ 
 tances. (p. 113.) 
 
 River views. No countries afford more pleas¬ 
 ing distances than those which are adorned with 
 noble river views; and what makes these river 
 views more valuable is their scarcity: we have 
 them in very few parts of England. For in the 
 first place the river must be large. A small 
 river must be lost in a distance ; and few rivers 
 in England are of a size sufficient to detorate 
 this kind of view. It is true, the river may be 
 too large. If the water exceed, in proportion, 
 the land, picturesque beauty, of course, is lost. 
 But here they are well proportioned. The river 
 also must run through a flat country. High 
 banks may give it beauty of another kind, at 
 least upon the spot; but they destroy its effect 
 in a distance, (p. 116.) 
 
 Castles. Round turrets at the corners give 
 a lighter form to the square tower than it com¬ 
 monly possesses, (p. 133.) 
 
 WESTERN TOUR. 
 
 Situations of old houses. At this day, a si¬ 
 tuation is generally the first point attended to, 
 as indeed it ought, in building a grand house; 
 but formerly the very worst situations seem to 
 
lxxii 
 
 EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 have been chosen, as if on purpose to show the 
 triumphs of art over nature. Indeed, our an¬ 
 cestors had little taste for the beauties of nature, 
 but conceived beauty to reside chiefly in the 
 expensive conceits and extravagancies of art. 
 
 (p. 2.) 
 
 Downs may consist of beautiful sweeps of 
 intersecting grounds, disfigured here and there 
 by a chalky soil, but adorned with rich and very 
 picturesque distances, (p. 4.) 
 
 Box-wood and Holly . A regular dipt box¬ 
 wood hedge is an object of deformity; but 
 growing wildly, and winding irregularly, at 
 different distances, along the road, is very 
 ornamental. The box itself, also, is a pleas¬ 
 ing object. In winter it harmonizes with the 
 ground; and in summer with the woods which 
 surround it. Box has a mellower, a more va¬ 
 ried, and a more accommodating tint than any 
 evergreen. One other circumstance of advan¬ 
 tage attends it. Almost every species of shrub 
 in a few years overgrows its beauty. If the 
 knife be not freely and frequently used, it be¬ 
 comes bare at the bottom, its branches dis-part, 
 and it rambles into a form too diffuse for its 
 station. But box-wood long preserves its shape* 
 and in the wild state in which we found it here, 
 
WESTERN TOUR. 
 
 Ixxiii 
 
 is far from regular, though its branches, which 
 are never large, are close and compact. I 
 should, however, mention holly as having all 
 the picturesque qualities of box, except the 
 variety of its tints : but in the room of these it 
 throws out its beautiful clusters of coral berries, 
 which have a pleasing effect among its dark- 
 green polished leaves. Like box, it grows 
 slowly, and alters leisurely, (p. 9.) 
 
 Situation of houses . Every house should, if 
 possible, overlook its own domains , as far, at 
 least, as the remote distance. All the interme¬ 
 diate spaces, in which objects are seen more 
 distinctly, may suffer great injury from the 
 caprice of different proprietors. This is, in¬ 
 deed, one reason, among others, why noble 
 palaces, with extensive property on every side, 
 are most adapted to these commanding situa¬ 
 tions. (p. 14.) 
 
 Descending fore-grounds of oblique sweeps, 
 every where well-wooded and set off with re¬ 
 mote distances, form the simplest mode of land¬ 
 scape; but where the fore-ground and distances 
 are good, though there is a strong opposition 
 between them, they are not unpleasing, (p. 27.) 
 
 Distances, The great beauty of scenes which 
 d 
 
XXIV 
 
 EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 have distances within the command of the eye, 
 consists in the removal of one distance beyond 
 another, discoverable by lengthened beams of 
 light, and in the melting of the whole into the 
 horizon. If a distance be deprived of any of 
 these characteristics, it is imperfect; but the 
 last is most essentially necessary. A hard edge 
 of distance, checking the view (which is often 
 the case when the distance is not remote), is 
 exceedingly disgusting. When the distance, 
 indeed, is bounded by mountains, it falls under 
 other rules of picturesque beauty, (p. 30.) 
 
 Arcadian scenes . So Gilpin calls lawns, di¬ 
 vided from each other by woody copses, (p. 30.) 
 
 Flats . A very extensive lawn may be cleared 
 before it, interspersed with combinations of 
 trees ; and though it may be a perfect flat, yet 
 the line of its woody boundary being varied and 
 removed to different distances by retiring dis¬ 
 tances, the whole may have a good effect, and 
 be not a little assisted by some handsome trees 
 in the fore-ground. A flat, if it be very exten¬ 
 sive , may convey a grand idea, but when we 
 have a small piece of fiat ground to improve, all 
 we can do, unless we vary its surface, is to adorn 
 it with wood. (p. 44.) 
 
WESTERN TOUR. lxXV 
 
 Monuments in Churches . Gilpin doubts whe¬ 
 ther monuments at all in such churches as pride 
 themselves on their architecture, can in anv 
 shape be considered as ornamental. The nave 
 of Westminster Abbey, for instance, is injured 
 as a piece of architecture, by the several monu¬ 
 ments introduced into it, which, like spots of 
 light in a picture, injure the whole : they break 
 in upon its simplicity and grandeur. Thus 
 Gilpin doubts whether the introduction of mo¬ 
 numents will be any advantage to St. Paul’s. 
 He fears that they would injure the grandeur of 
 the dome, which the judicious architect had 
 already adorned as much as he thought consis¬ 
 tent with the sublimity of his idea. In all 
 cathedrals, there are cloisters and other recesses 
 which are the proper situations for monuments, 
 and even here every thing should not be ad¬ 
 mitted that comes under the name of a monu¬ 
 ment, and pays the fee. Plain tablets may be 
 allowed; but when figures and ornaments are 
 introduced, they should be such as neither dis¬ 
 grace the sculptor, nor the person whom he 
 meant to honour. It would be of great advan¬ 
 tage, also, to class monuments as we hang pic- 
 tuies in a room, with some view to symmetry 
 and order; and, if different professions were 
 d 2 
 
/ 
 
 Jxxvi EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 ranged by themselves, it would still make it more 
 agreeable to examine them*. 
 
 Ornaments of Churches. The love of orna¬ 
 ment is one of the greatest sources of deformity; 
 and it is the more to be lamented, as it is very 
 expensive , and very universal. It prevails from 
 the church-warden, who paints the pillars of his 
 parish-church blue, and the capitals yellow, to 
 the artist who gilds and carves the choir of a 
 cathedral. 
 
 Organ in Churches. A view along the whole 
 range of a church is, no doubt, grand, but not 
 of sufficient consequence to remove the organ to 
 the middle of one of the sides, where it has no 
 correspondent part; besides, an organ, if judi¬ 
 ciously adorned, is a proper finishing to one end 
 of the choir, as the communion-table, and its 
 appendages, are to the other, (pp. 47, 48.) 
 
 Altar-pieces ; Pictures. Every painter should 
 so far provide for the distant effect of his picture, 
 that no improper or disagreeable idea may be 
 excited in the general view of it. (p. 50.) 
 
 * Sir H. Englefield very properly observed, that 
 ancient shrines and table-tombs exquisitely harmo¬ 
 nized with the building; but that statues, tablets, 
 and modern monuments, are in utter discord. 
 
WESTERN TOUR. 
 
 Ixxvii 
 
 Dozens may fold beautifully over each other, 
 and, by a few large masterly strokes, afford 
 good studies, (p. 53.) 
 
 Views. It is amusing to see a destined point 
 before us, as we come up to it by degrees. It is 
 amusing, also, to transfer our own motion to 
 that of the object which we approach. It 
 seems, as the road winds, to play with us, 
 shewing itself here and there, sometimes totally 
 disappearing, and then rising where we did not 
 expect to find it. But the most pleasing cir¬ 
 cumstance in approaching a grand object, con¬ 
 sists in its depositing, by degrees, various tints 
 of obscurity. Tinged at first with the hazy hue 
 of distance, the spire before us was but little 
 distinguished from the objects of the vale. But 
 as it was much nearer than those objects, it 
 soon began to assume a deeper tint, to break 
 away from them, and leave them behind. As 
 we get still nearer, especially if a ray of sun¬ 
 shine happen to gild it, the sharp touches on the 
 pinnacle shew the richness of the workmanship, 
 and it begins gradually to assume a new form, 
 (pp. 53, 54.) 
 
 Spires tapering to a point do not present a 
 sufficient surface for ornament, therefore the 
 bands round that of Salisbury are a deformity. 
 
u 
 
 Ixxviii EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 It is hard to say what Gothic ornaments so 
 tapering a surface as a spire, is capable of re* 
 ceiving. For this reason, though a plain, well- 
 proportioned spire may happily adorn a neat 
 parish-church, and make a picturesque object 
 rising among woods, or in the horizon, it is not 
 so well adapted to the rich style of a Gothic 
 cathedral; and, indeed, succeeding architects, 
 as the Gothic taste advanced in purity, laid 
 aside the spire, and in general adopted the 
 tower. 
 
 Pinnacles , which are purely Gothic, are very 
 beautiful; and for this reason, the tower part, 
 or foundation of the spire at Salisbury, which is 
 adorned with them, is the only part of it that is 
 interesting, (p. 55.) 
 
 Art can never rise beyond what is pleasing 
 (p. 72.) 
 
 Vale. The true picturesque vale is rarely 
 found in any country but a mountainous one. 
 (p. 97.) 
 
 Garden scenes are never picturesque. They 
 want the bold roughness of nature. A prin¬ 
 cipal beauty in our gardens , as Mr. Walpole 
 justly observes, is the smoothness of the turf; 
 but in a picture , this becomes a dead and uni¬ 
 form spot, incapable of light and shade, and 
 
WESTERN TOUR. 
 
 must be broken insipidly by children, dogs, 
 and other unmeaning figures, (p. 98.) 
 
 Bridges , more than a plank and rail to pass 
 a trifling stream, are turgid : in large pieces of 
 water, a handsome bridge may be necessary; 
 but what have pillars, walls, pediments, roofs, 
 and the architectural ornaments of houses, to 
 do with bridges? (pp. 99, 100.) 
 
 Triumphal Arches on the summits of hills are 
 foolish. Though too pompous structures to 
 form part of the approach to a house, yet they 
 can only be suffered in such a situation. 
 
 Galleries for Statues , Sfc. The apartments of 
 a noble house should not suffer their ornaments 
 to obtrude foremost upon the eye. Each apart¬ 
 ment should preserve its own dignity ; to which 
 the ornamental parts should be subordinate. In 
 ^very work of art, and, indeed, of nature also, 
 it is a breach of the most express picturesque 
 canon, if the parts engage the eye more than 
 the whole. The hall, therefore, stair-case, sa¬ 
 loon, and other apartments, may be adorned 
 with a few busts and statues; but to receive a 
 whole collection, perhaps a long gallery should 
 be professedly built. In this they may be ar¬ 
 ranged in profusion, (p. 107.) In such a gal¬ 
 lery, the tints of the walls should be that which 
 
 
 "'"•rtp 
 
Ixxx 
 
 EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 best shows off the statues, and the light should 
 be, not vertical, but from high windows on the 
 side opposite to the statues, (p. 108.) 
 
 Gothic Houses. We chiefly admire the 
 Gothic style, when its clustered pillars adorn 
 the walls of some cathedral; when its pointed 
 ribs spread along the roof or aisle; or when the 
 tracery of a window occupies the whole end of 
 a choir. Gothic ornaments, in this style of 
 magnificence, lose their littleness. They are 
 not considered as parts , but are lost in one vast 
 whole , and contribute only to impress a general 
 idea of richness: on the whole, the Grecian 
 aichitecture seems much better adapted to a 
 private dwelling-house than the Gothic. It 
 has a better assortment of proper ornaments 
 and proportions for all its purposes. The 
 Gothic ornaments might dress up a hall, or 
 a saloon; but they could do little more. We 
 should find it difficult to decorate the flat roof 
 of an apartment with them, or a passage, or a 
 stair-case. Nor are the conveniences which 
 the Grecian architecture bestows in private 
 buildings, , less considerable than the beauty of 
 its decorations . The Gothic palace is an en¬ 
 cumbered pile. We are amused with looking 
 into these mansions of antiquity as objects of 
 
J 
 
 WESTERN TOUR. lxxxi 
 
 curiosity, but should never think of comparing 
 them, in point of convenience, with the great 
 houses of modern taste, in which the hall and 
 re ti the saloon fill the eye on our entrance; are 
 
 4 noble reservoirs for air, and grand ante-cham- 
 
 ok bers to the several rooms of state that divide on 
 
 eni each hand from them. (pp. 126, 127.) 
 
 pdtf Ruins . In correspondent parts, if one only 
 
 Ifi fl be taken away, or considerably fractured, it may 
 
 iv possibly be an advantage, (p. 135.) 
 
 trt Distances, Trees in hedge-rows, viewed afar 
 
 d off from heights, may appear like ample woods. 
 
 m (p* 149.) 
 
 £ White seats. A seat, or small building, 
 
 It painted white, may be an advantage in a view ; 
 
 its but when these white spots are multiplied, the 
 
 lie distinction of their colour detaches them from 
 
 or die other objects of the scene, with which they 
 
 ought to combine. They distract the eye, and 
 if become separate spots, instead of parts of a 
 
 whole, (p. 157.) 
 
 Haziness has often a grand effect in a pic¬ 
 turesque scene. The variety of objects, shapes, 
 and lines, which compose an extensive land¬ 
 scape, though inharmonious in themselves, may 
 be harmoniously united by one general tinge 
 d 5 
 
Ixxxii 
 
 EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 spread over them. The going off of mists and 
 fogs is among the most beautiful circumstances 
 belonging to them. While the obscurity is 
 only partially clearing away, it often occasions 
 a pleasing contrast between the formed and 
 unformed parts of a landscape, (p. 162.) 
 
 Hills. A hill seemingly connected with 
 another hill much higher (though detached 
 from it), is better than a single insulated hill, 
 because that has an idea of art. (p. 170.) 
 
 Grand objects. The consequence of them 
 may be greatly increased by dead flats between 
 them and the eye. 
 
 Broken ground in itself is more beautiful; 
 but a flat often carries the eye more directly to 
 a capital object, with which, also, it often very 
 agreeably contrasts. Sometimes, however, it is 
 otherwise, (p. 171.) 
 
 Hills may be so tame and uniform, and follow 
 each other in such quick succession, as rarely 
 to furnish either a fore-ground or a distance, 
 (p. 173.) 
 
 Hills. Steep, winding, woody hills, through 
 the trees of which we have beautiful views of 
 tutted groves and other objects in the opposite 
 side, are interesting, (p. 189.) 
 
 Fore-grounds. Extensive sides of hills, co- 
 
WESTERN TOUR. Ixxxiii 
 
 vered with woods, rising on the fore-grounds, 
 ranging in noble sweeps, and retiring into dis¬ 
 tance, are very fine. (p. 198.) 
 
 Ruins situated in woody recesses are fipe. 
 (p. 289.) 
 
 Rivers. Reaches may be too long, and wind 
 too little, and may not have the course of the 
 river traced by the perspective of one screen 
 behind another (often a beautiful circumstance), 
 yet if one of the banks be lofty, broken into 
 large parts, and falling away in good perspec¬ 
 tive, the length of the reach may possibly be an 
 advantage, (p. 238.) 
 
 River views. When we are on a level with 
 the surface, we have rarely more than a fore¬ 
 ground ; at most, we have only a first distance. 
 But when we take a higher stand, and view a 
 remote river, lofty banks become then an in¬ 
 cumbrance ; and instead of discovering, they 
 hide its winding course. When the distance 
 becomes more remote, the valley through which 
 the river winds should be open, and the country 
 flat, to produce the most pleasing effect, (p. 
 238.) 
 
 Hilly countries. These hills we were conti¬ 
 nually ascending or descending. When we 
 had mounted on one hill, we were presented 
 
lxXXiv EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 with the side of another, so that all distance was 
 shut out, and all variety of country intercepted. 
 A pleasant glade here and there at the dip of a 
 hill we sometimes had; but this did not com- 
 pensate for that tiresome sameness of ascent 
 and descent which runs through the country, 
 (p. 244.) 
 
 Hills seen from a low point may be less 
 grand, but more picturesque. Hills which are, 
 when seen from high points, compressed to the 
 surface, begin here to arise and take their form 
 in the landscape, break the continued lines of 
 distance, and create new lights and new shades, 
 with their varied elevations, (p. 251.) 
 
 I lews. Extensive views cannot be pleasing 
 if bounded by a hard edge. A distance should 
 either melt into the sky, or terminate in a soft 
 and varied mountain line. (p. 255.) 
 
 Bays are fine when they have the form of a 
 lake, and are furnished with shipping instead 
 of boats; and the banks consist of lofty, wooded 
 hills, shelving down in all directions. * But such 
 scenes are always different from the pastoral 
 simplicity of an inland lake. The sea always 
 impresses a peculiar character on its bays. The 
 " a ^ er has a different aspect; its tints are more 
 varied, and its surface differently disturbed. Its 
 
WESTERN TOUR. IXXXV 
 
 banks, too, have a more weather-beaten and 
 rugged appearance, losing generally their ver¬ 
 dure within the air of the sea. The sea-rock, 
 also, wants that rich incrustation of mosses and 
 lychens which adorns the rock of the lake; and 
 the wood, though it grow luxuriantly, as it does 
 here, shews plainly, by its mode of growth, that 
 it is the inhabitant of a sea-girt clime. To this 
 may be added, that the appendages of the bay 
 and lake are very different. A quay, perhaps, 
 for landing goods, an anchor, a floating buoy, 
 or a group of figures in seamen’s jackets, are 
 the ornaments of one scene, but unknown to 
 the other. The bay, in the mean time, may be 
 as picturesque as the lake; only the character 
 of each is different, (p. 260.) Torbay is a fine 
 specimen. Its form is semi-lunar. Its winding 
 shores, on both sides, are screened with grand 
 ramparts of rock, between which, in the central 
 part, the ground from the country, forming a 
 gentle vale, falls easily to the water’s edge. 
 Wood grows all round the bay, even on its 
 rocky sides, (p. 263.) 
 
 Mist. The most picturesque moment of a 
 misty morning is just as the sun rises, and 
 begins its contention with the vapour which 
 obstruct its rays. (p. 269.) 
 
lxXXVi EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 Gaiety in Carpets . Axminster carpets are, in 
 general, so gay, that furniture must be glaring 
 to be in harmony with them. Of course, they 
 are too gay to be beautiful. No carpeting, 
 perhaps, equals the Persian in beauty. The 
 Turkey carpet is modest enough in its co¬ 
 louring ; but its texture is coarse, and its pat¬ 
 tern consists commonly of such a jumble of 
 incoherent parts, that the eye seldom traces any 
 meaning in its plan. The British carpet, again, 
 has too much meaning . It often represents 
 fruits, and flowers, and baskets, and other 
 tilings, which are generally ill represented, or 
 at least, improperly placed under our feet. 
 The Persian carpet avoids these two extremes. 
 It seldom exhibits any real forms, and yet, in¬ 
 stead of the disorderly pattern that deforms the 
 Turkey carpet, it usually presents some neat 
 and elegant plan, within the compartments of 
 which, its colours, though rich, are modest. 
 The texture, also, of the carpet is as neat and 
 elegant as the ornamental scrawl which adorns 
 it. (p. 273.) 
 
 Valley , beautiful . The sides of a circular 
 valley [Ford Abbey, Devon,] slope gently into 
 the area in various directions, but are no where 
 steep. Woody screens, circling its precincts, 
 
ir 
 
 WESTERN TOUR. lxxxvii 
 
 conceal its bounds, and, in many parts, con¬ 
 necting with the trees which descend into the 
 valley, form themselves into various tufted 
 groves. Through the middle of this sweet re- 
 treat v/inds a gentle stream. From this retreat 
 all foreign scenery is excluded. It wants no 
 adventitious ornaments; sufficiently blessed with 
 its own sweet groves and solitude, (p. 274.) 
 
 Vallies. It is a capital feature of them when 
 they wind among hills of various forms, and are 
 covered with woods, which sometimes advance 
 boldly on projecting knolls, and sometimes retire 
 in bays and recesses, (p. 288.) 
 
 Hills . Woody hills, with a variety of steep 
 and easy slopes, with a vale and winding river, 
 are fine. (p. 291.) 
 
 Downs are very picturesque when they are 
 finely spread, and form elegant sweeps, with 
 many pleasant views into a woody country, 
 (p. 292.) 
 
 Flats. Nothing can be more disagreeable 
 than heathy flats, uniting, in one level, with 
 swamps, (p. 294.) 
 
 Coast views , where the shores are low, have 
 little picturesque scenery, (p. 297.) 
 
 Rivers. A tide-river has always its disad¬ 
 vantages ; but it has its advantages also. It is 
 
lxxxviii EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 generally once or twice a day adorned with the 
 white sails of little skiffs passing to and fro; and 
 at all times with boats or anchoring barks, 
 which have lost the tide and wait for its return. 
 These are picturesque circumstances which an 
 inland river cannot have. (p. 303.) 
 
 1Rocks. A vast chasm winds between two 
 high promontories, and opens to the sea. Both 
 sides of the chasm are adorned with rock, and 
 both with wood; and it is, in general, a pic¬ 
 turesque scene; but it has not the beauty of 
 the dells of a mountainous country, where the 
 wood is commonly finer, and the rocks more 
 adorned and more majestick; and where a 
 stream, pouring over ledges of rock, or falling 
 down a cascade, adds the melody of sound to 
 the beauty of the scene, (pp. 306, 307.) 
 
 Views. A bird’s-eye view on water is always 
 less pleasing than on land, , as the variety of 
 ground is more amusing in itself than water, 
 and as it carries off* the perspective better, 
 (p. 308.) 
 
 Cottage , artificial. Pleasing ideas, no doubt, 
 may be executed under the form of a cottage ; 
 but to make them pleasing , they should be 
 harmonious. We sometimes see the cottage 
 idea carried so far, as to paste ballads on the 
 
WESTERN TOUR. 
 
 lxxxix 
 
 walls with good effect. But we need not re¬ 
 strict what may be called the artificial cottage , 
 to so very close an imitation of the natural one . 
 In the inside , certainly, it may admit of much 
 greater neatness and convenience; though even 
 here, every ornament that approaches splendour 
 should be rejected; without, too, though the 
 roof be thatched, we may allow it to cover tw r o 
 stories; and if it project somewhat over the 
 walls, the effect may be better. We should 
 not object to sashed windows, but they must 
 not be large; and if you wish for a vestibule, a 
 common brick porch, with a plain, neat roof, 
 is all we allow. We often see the front of a 
 cottage, covered with what is called rough-cast , 
 which has a good effect; and tips may be tinted 
 with a yellowish tinge, mixed with lime, which 
 is more pleasing than the cold raw tint of lime 
 and ashes: but if, in the front, there is any 
 .stone-work under the denomination of frieze, 
 architrave, or ornament of any kind, it is too 
 much. The ground about a cottage should be 
 neat, but artless. There is no occasion to plant 
 cabbages in the front. The garden may be 
 removed out of sight; but the lawn that comes 
 up to the door should be grazed, rather than 
 mown. The sunk fence, the net, and the 
 
xc EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 painted rail, are ideas alien to the cottage. 
 The broad gravel-walk, too, we totally reject, 
 and in its room wish only for a simple, un¬ 
 affected one. These things being considered, 
 it may, perhaps, be a more difficult thing to 
 rear a cottage, with all its proper uniformities, 
 than is generally imagined ; inasmuch as it may 
 be easier to introduce the elegancies of art, 
 than to catch the pure simplicity of nature, 
 (pp. 309—311.) 
 
 1 ark scenery . A fine specimen occurs at 
 Appuldercomb, in the Isle of Wight. A wood 
 lising behind is a beautiful back-ground to the 
 house, as well as an excellent shelter from the 
 North. In front is spread a magnificent lawn, 
 or rather a park (for it is furnished with deer), 
 well varied, and not ill planted, stretching far 
 and wide. Its boundary in one part is con¬ 
 fined, at the distance of about two miles, by a 
 hill, running out like a promontory, whose con¬ 
 tinuous horizontal ridge might hurt the eye if 
 it were not crowned with a castle. Views are 
 judiciously opened from all the higher grounds 
 about the house, (p. 312.) 
 
 Cave . A perforated cave, with a good view 
 appearing through it, may have a picturesque 
 effect, (p. 327.) 
 
WESTERN TOUR. 
 
 xci 
 
 Corn-fields are the most unpicturesque of 
 every species of cultivation. The regularity of 
 them disgusts, and the colour of corn, especially 
 near harvest, is out of tune with every thing 
 else. (p. 328.) 
 
 Distances . A distance must stretch away 
 many leagues from the eye. It must consist of 
 various intermediate parts ; it must be enriched 
 by numerous objects, which lose, by degrees, all 
 form and distinctness; and finally, perhaps, 
 terminate in faint purple mountains, or perhaps 
 mix with the blue mists of ether, before it can 
 pretend to the character of grandeur, (p. 330.) 
 
 Island views. When the fore-grounds are 
 happily disposed with the sea beyond them, we 
 may get a grand and simple sea-view, grander, 
 perhaps, than the distances alluded to in the 
 preceding paragraph, but for that reason less 
 beautiful and amusing, (p. 331.) 
 
 Pastoral scenes. Many lawns and woods, 
 and a variety of ground, must be ever^pl easing ; 
 but still they may furnish only little, pleasant^ 
 pastoral scenes, and these but seldom in any 
 perfection; for if the whole country is under 
 the discipline of cultivation, the picturesque eye 
 is every where more or less offended, (p. 331.) 
 
 Coast views. The ingredients of a pleasing 
 
xcii 
 
 EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 coast view are a variety of line, and an extent of 
 distance. The true, beautiful coast-line breaks 
 away in various irregular curves, or ample bays, 
 sweeping from the eye in winding perspective. 
 If a whole length of coast presents only a narrow 
 edging of land, then an extent of distance is 
 wanting, (pp. 332, 333.) 
 
 Rocks . These may make only a show at sea, 
 and there they may be grand, rather than pic¬ 
 turesque. Their height may give them gran - 
 deur , and their extent, also, may be magni¬ 
 ficent ; but their form and colour unite in in¬ 
 juring their beauty. With regard to their 
 forms, instead of presenting those noble masses 
 and broad surfaces of projecting rocks, which 
 we see along many of the coasts of England, 
 they may be broken and crumbled into minute 
 parts. The chalky substance of which they are 
 constructed may not have consistence to spread 
 into an ample surface. It may shiver too much. 
 This, however, is a disadvantage only in the 
 fore-ground. At sea , all these frittered parts 
 dissolve away, and are melted, by distance, into 
 broad surfaces, (p. 335.) But here again the 
 colour offends. Nature, in many parts, may 
 spread over them a few stains and tints; but on 
 so large a surface, this has but a partial effect, 
 
EASTERN Tuokt. 
 
 xciii 
 
 and the whole coast, for many leagues together, 
 appears nearly white , the most refractory and 
 unaccommodating of all tints, (p. 336.) 
 
 Avenues of trees, as connecting threads be¬ 
 tween a town and a country, are good. (p. 352.) 
 
 Tours through Cambridge, Norfolk, 
 Suffolk, Essex, and Parts of North 
 Wales. 
 
 Roads , full of buildings . Wherever an open¬ 
 ing presents itself, it is crowded with buildings 
 which are the fatiguing objects in every part of 
 the environs of London. So great a number of 
 them, instead of adorning landscape, distracts 
 the eye, and destroys all idea of unity. One 
 object, or two in a view, is sufficient, but not 
 such as we meet with here. (p. 2.) 
 
 Plains , descending, closed with woody scenes, 
 are good (p. 7); and such scenes afford an op¬ 
 portunity of studying the beauties of a winding 
 road , forming an easy serpentine line, and di¬ 
 minishing in perspective along a slip of wooded 
 common. In other parts, we see it sinking into 
 a dip of the forest, beyond which it appears 
 winding among boles of trees, till it is lost in a 
 thicket; and is discovered again, perhaps, at a 
 considerable distance, entering a village in a 
 
XC1V 
 
 EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 direction contrary to that in which it entered 
 tlie wood. (p. 8.) 
 
 Fenny Countries. The distances, such as they 
 are (no where furnished with variety of objects, 
 nor even remote), are terminated with one 
 even line of horizon; and the fore-grounds are 
 spungy swamps, producing only rushes, the 
 natural appendages of a fenny country, (p. 10.) 
 
 Buildings. At the end of Queen’s-walk, 
 Clare-hall makes a good perspective. When 
 you see it in front, as you do from Clare-hall 
 piece, it loses half its grandeur. In full view, 
 you are sure you see the whole; whereas, a 
 perspective view leaves the imagination room to 
 extend the idea. (p. 11.) 
 
 Buildings should not be too narrow, for height 
 and length disturb the eye. (p. 11.) 
 
 Ten scenery. 1 rees, groves, extensive dis¬ 
 tances, and all the variety of landscape are now 
 totally gone. All is blank. The eye meets 
 nothing but dreary causeways, stretches of flat, 
 swampy ground; and long ditches running in 
 stiaight lines, and intersected at right angles in 
 various parts, by other ditches, make the whole 
 of the scenery on eaqli side. A fen differs from 
 a lake in these particulars: a lake is the produce 
 of a mountainous country, formed commonly by 
 
EASTERN TOUR. 
 
 XCV 
 
 a rapid river, which carries off the superfluous 
 waters in the continuance of the same stream 
 that introduced them. A fen, on the contrary, 
 is generated on a flat, by land-springs, or the 
 exuberance of rain-waters, which, having no 
 natural discharge but by exhalation, or through 
 the pores of the earth, stagnate and putrify 
 upon the surface. The lake has commonly a 
 beautiful line, formed by the undulation of the 
 rocks and rising grounds along its banks. The 
 fen unites in rushy plashes with the swampy soil 
 on which it borders. Here and there, as the 
 waters subside, the eye traces a line of decaying 
 sedge, and other offensive filth, which is left 
 behind. Instead of the rocks and woods which 
 so beautifully adorn the lake, the fen pre¬ 
 sents, at best, only pollard-willows, defouled 
 with slime, and oozy refuse hanging from their 
 branches; standing in lines, and marking the 
 hedge-rows, which appear by degrees as the 
 waters retire. Again, the lake is a resplendent 
 mirror, reflecting trees and rocks from its mar - 
 yin, and the cope of heaven from its bosom ; all 
 glowing in the vivid tints' of nature. The fen, 
 spread with vegetable corruption, or crawling 
 with animal generation, forms a surface without 
 depth or fluidity, and is so far from reflecting 
 
XCVi EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 an image, that it hardly comes within the defi¬ 
 nition of a fluid. Lastly, the lake is generally 
 adorned with light skiffs, skimming with white 
 sails along its banks; or with fishing-boats, 
 drawing their circular nets; or groups of cattle, 
 laving their sides near the shore. The fen has 
 no cheerful inhabitants. Here and there may 
 be seen a miserable cow, or horse, dragging its 
 legs besmeared with slime; and endeavouring, 
 with painful operation, to get some stable foot¬ 
 ing. (p. 18.) 
 
 Gloom . The gloom in Gothic cathedrals is 
 solemn : and, among so many arches and pil¬ 
 lars, exceedingly grand, (p. 19.) 
 
 Wood. It is impossible to have wood without 
 beauty, however badly it may be disposed, (p. 
 42.) 
 
 j Flats, though extensive, may be formed into 
 fine amphitheatres by a rich edging of wood, 
 with, here and there, groups and single trees 
 advancing and bringing the woods loosely into 
 the plain, (p. 81.) 
 
 Roads are interesting when they open upon 
 woody scenes, which look like the skirts of a 
 forest, and have here and there beautiful dips, 
 interspersed with cottages, a variety of fine 
 woods, a good distance, and a church-tower. 
 
 (p. 86.) 
 
m 
 
 WELSH TOUR. 
 
 XCV11 
 
 H 
 
 Sylvan Scenes. Among the most pleasing are 
 those which sometimes retire to a distance; 
 sometimes advance; now encircle a common 
 with cottages, and form a back-ground behind 
 them; then close up the whole road so as to 
 leave the eye at a loss where it can break out. 
 (p. 87.) 
 
 Rivers. A large river winding through a 
 vast vale, bounded on one side by high grounds, 
 on the other by hills, ships appearing on the 
 , river, is very grand, (p. 92.) 
 
 North Wales.— Forest Scenery. The parts 
 ^ large, with many considerable hills and smaller 
 inequalities; pleasing intersections; roads wind- 
 >li! ing through woods; lawns interspersed with 
 F groves, or bounded by the dark recesses of the 
 forest: these are features of fine landscape, (pp. 
 } ° 99, 100.) 
 
 Vale, every where screened with lofty moun¬ 
 tains, varied in parts by little mountain recesses; 
 the area sometimes open and extensive, forming 
 the most amusing distances, in other parts full 
 of little knolls and hillocks, and thickly planted 
 3 with wood; one end of the vale opening to the 
 
 ■' sea, the other closed by mountains : such is the 
 
 lf picturesque vale of Cluid. (p. 106.) 
 
 A Valley opening into glades, which termi- 
 
 e 
 
nate in sequestered scenes; a river proportioned 
 to the valley; the side-screens variously adorned 
 with wood; and a path judiciously conducted 
 through the whole is picturesque, (p. 109.) 
 
 Vallies. Lofty screens of rock on one side, 
 high woody banks on the other; a winding 
 stream, and a small bridge at the bottom, is a 
 
 , ' « 
 
 beautiful scene, (p. 110.) 
 
 H fa'll' * 
 
 "fp ■ 
 
 Hills. A spacious amphitheatre of them, 
 cloathed with wood, is grand, (p. 113.) 
 
 
 Rivers dividing into several channels, and 
 
 
 forming a little plain into two or three woody 
 islands, make an agreeable shifting scene. 
 
 ‘In 11. V -J- r'i 
 
 Marshes , bounded on one side by mountains, 
 
 i * 1 
 
 on the other by the sea, may form a good 
 distance ; and viewed from the woods of a lofty 
 
 * ; 8* “ 
 
 | 
 
 bank, every where rough and broken, may 
 
 
 make an excellent contrast, as well as fore¬ 
 
 
 ground. (p. 115.) 
 
 H . \k * M : 
 
 Sublime and beautiful in Landscape. The 
 
 
 ingredients are, water, rising ground, woody 
 
 i ; - • 
 
 banks, and a castle, all of grand dimensions, 
 
 I KfL 
 
 and of picturesque forms, (p. 120.) 
 
 Ht 
 
 Castles and eminent buildings in ruin. Some 
 
 
 castles are more picturesque, in their form and 
 situation, than others; and some part almost 
 
 1 V f' 
 
 lis if* 
 
 of every castle may be picturesque. But with 
 
 
 
WELSH TOUR. 
 
 XCiX 
 
 Hi regard to the whole, we seldom see any castle, 
 
 idc however meliorated by age and improved by 
 
 * ruin > wh ich can, in all respects, be called a 
 I® complete model. The castle certainly is not. 
 Mi The picturesque advantages which a castle, or 
 q an y em,nelU building, receives from a state of 
 ‘I rum, are chiefly these :—It gains irregularity in 
 its general form. We judge of beauty in castles 
 ft 35 we * n figures, in mountains, and other 
 objects. The solid, square, heavy form we dis- 
 4 like; and are Phased with the pyramidal one, 
 
 ", which ma y be infinitely varied, and which ruin 
 
 contributes to vary. Secondly, a pile gains 
 m from a state of ruin an irregularity in its parts. 
 
 , I be cornice, the window, the arch and battle- 
 
 ,'j, ment ’ ^bich in their original form are all re- 
 n S ular > receive from ruin a variety of little irre- 
 
 f 0I gularities, which the eye examines with renewed 
 
 delight. Lastly, a pile in a state of ruin re¬ 
 ceives the richest decorations from the various 
 colours which it acquires from time. It receives 
 the stains of weather, the incrustations of moss, 
 and the varied tints of flowering weeds. The 
 gj Gothic window is hung with festoons of ivy, the 
 arch with pendent wreaths streaming from each 
 broken coigne; and the summit of the wall is 
 planted with little twining bushes, which fill up 
 
c 
 
 EPITOME OF GILPIN- 
 
 the square corners, and contribute still more to 
 break the lines, (p. 122.) 
 
 Mountains . A mountain (as Penmanmaur) 
 may have no variety of line, but be one heavy, 
 lumpish form, falling plump into the water, 
 without any of those little projections from its 
 base, which let a promontory down gently, as 
 by a step, and which are, in general, great 
 sources of beauty, as they prevent heaviness, 
 and add^variety: but where the scene is merely 
 grand , without being at all indebted to beauty, 
 this lumpish appearance, as more simple, tends 
 more strongly to impress the grandeur of the 
 scene, (p. 126.) 
 
 A mountain , where one uniform, dreary as¬ 
 pect prevails over the w r hole body of it; where 
 there are no large parts, no projecting masses of 
 broken rock, nor beautiful interlacing of soil, 
 herbage, and wood, has a hideous appearance, 
 (p. 127.) 
 
 Flats. There is something peculiarly grand 
 in the great amphitheatres of nature, where the 
 eye, stationed in a centre, especially if that 
 centre be on a spacious plain, and viewing a 
 profusion of grand objects on every side, passes 
 along mountains, vallies, rivers, towns, forests, 
 islands, and promontories, in succession, con- 
 
WELSH TOUR. 
 
 Cl 
 
 trasting one part with another, and every part 
 with the level area which forms the fore-ground, 
 (p. 132.) 
 
 Views of mountains, islands, and promon¬ 
 tories, through breaks and woods, are very fine, 
 (p. 143.) 
 
 Mountains , when uncoutlily shaped and in- 
 harmoniously combined, may not form scenes 
 of any value, (p. 144.) A lake or body of water 
 among mountains has the use of shewing, by 
 the little bays which it forms, how one moun¬ 
 tain folds over another, which strengthens the 
 picturesque idea of a graduating distance . (p. 
 156.) 
 
 River-views . The banks of the Wye, in 
 Herefordshire, are so lofty, that, in most places, 
 the river and its appendages are seen to more 
 advantage from the bottom than from the top. 
 But, unless the banks of a river are uncom¬ 
 monly high, the eye, when stationed upon the 
 wilier, is so low, that the scenery is lost. (p. 163.) 
 
 Creeks may run up a bottom, between two 
 woody hills; and the spot may be a beautiful 
 valley when the tide ebbs, and a beautiful lake 
 when it flows, (p. 162.) 
 
 Ruins , by means of planting, should some¬ 
 times exhibit a distinct view , and sometimes one 
 e 3 
 
u 
 
 Cii EPITOME OF GILPIN. 
 
 at hand; here the whole , and there some dis¬ 
 tinguished part. (p. 168.) 
 
 Meadow. The flatness of a meadow may be 
 a beauty, when it is in contrast with other ob¬ 
 jects. (p. 169.) 
 
 Hills. In a scene of mere grandeur, a lumpish 
 hill may heighten the idea; but where beauty 
 is meant to participate, and especially where 
 the objects are small, it disgusts. Rich hills 
 may be greatly improved by a little judicious 
 semi-planting , which may be so contrived as to 
 vary the line, and take off much from the heavi¬ 
 ness of the appearance. If lumpish hills are 
 planted all over, a round hill is only transformed 
 into a round bush. (p. 170.) 
 
 Vallies may have no bold screens, no flat, 
 extended meadow, no magnificent ruin, and yet 
 may d be very pleasing through the composition, 
 the ground being beautifully thrown about, the 
 little knolls and vallies diversified and con¬ 
 trasted, the trees happily interspersed, and the 
 openings and windings of the river displayed 
 to advantage, (p. 174.) 
 
 Mountains which are detached objects, may 
 add beauty to a country which is barren of 
 scenery, (p. 190.) 
 
 Ruins should not be bare and desolate. The 
 
WELSH TOUR. 
 
 cm 
 
 parts should be connected with each other by 
 fragments of old walls; and connected with the 
 ground by a few heaps of rubbish; and be a 
 little adorned with wood. (p. 196.) 
 
 Vistas. A vista of trees along a valley at the 
 entrance of a town, is one of those connecting 
 circumstances which draws the eye gradually 
 from one mode of object to another, and pre¬ 
 vents abruptness. The two objects united here, 
 are a town and a country. A vista, partaking 
 both of the regularity of the one, and of the 
 natural simplicity of the other, is a good 
 connecting link. Where objects, indeed, are 
 small, an introduction is unnecessary. A house, 
 though a formal object if it be not superb, may 
 stand in the midst of rural ideas. But when 
 the eye is to dwell long on a large object, as on 
 a town or a palace, a connecting tie is natural. 
 Indeed, nature generally introduces a change ot 
 objects in this gradual way, joining one country 
 to another, with some circumstances which par¬ 
 ticipate of both. (p. 208.) 
 
 * # # The Wye Tour is re-printed by the Au¬ 
 thor in a distinct work; and Extracts are given 
 in the body of this Grammar. The Essays are 
 not noticed , because they refer to Pictures and 
 Drawings. 
 
INDEX 
 
 TO THE 
 
 Epitome of gilpin’s works. 
 
 Acacia ix 
 
 Estuaries xlii. lvii 
 Alder ix 
 
 Altar Pieces lxxvi 
 Approaches xxiii 
 Arches, Triumphal xxv. Ixxix 
 Architecture, Gothic xxii 
 Art lxxviii 
 
 Ash viii. Mountain i£. 
 
 Avenues xciii 
 
 Bays xviii. xlii. xlix. liii. lxxxiv 
 Beech viii. xv 
 Birch, Lady or Weeping 1 ix 
 Boxwood lxxii 
 Bridges xxx. xl. Ixxix 
 Buildings xciv. Perfect xxiii. Old 
 and New Ixvii 
 Canals xxiv 
 
 Carpets, gaiety in lxxxvi 
 Cascades xxviii. xliv. xlvi. li 
 Castles xxxii. Ixviii—lxxi and 
 Eminent Buildings in Ruin 
 xcviii 
 Cave xc 
 Caverns xxxv 
 Cedars ix 
 Chalky Soils xxi 
 Chastity of Design xxiii 
 Cbesnut ix. Horse ib. 
 
 Churches Ixviii. Small Spires 
 xxxvii. Towers Ixvi. Monu¬ 
 ments Ixxv. Ornaments of 
 lxxvi. Organ lxxvi. Altar 
 Pieces, ib. Spires lxxvi. Pin¬ 
 nacles lxxviii 
 Cliffs, Chalky Ixix. lxx 
 
 Clumps, Smaller x. Larger x 
 Contrasts xi. Combinations 
 of, tb. Effect of xix. xxxiii 
 Coasts xviii 
 Contrasts x 
 Copses xii 
 Corn Fields xci 
 Cottage, Artificial Ixxxviii 
 Countries, Fenny xciv. Flat 
 xxxvii. Mountainous Iviii, 
 lxiii. Hilly Ixviii. lxxxiii 
 Creeks ci 
 Cuts xxiv 
 
 Deformities jn Nature lx 
 Dells xxix. li 
 Design, Chastity of xxiii 
 Distances xiii. X v. xvii—xx. 
 xxiv. xxxiii. xxxvii. lii. lv. lxxi. 
 Ixxiii. Ixxxi. xci 
 
 Downs Ixvi. lxxii. lxxvi. Ixxxvii 
 Elm viii. Wyeh zb. 
 
 Extremities lxii 
 Fences xx 
 Fields, regular xxiv 
 Fir Groves Ixvi 
 
 Firs, Scotch ix. lvi. Spruce ix. 
 lvi. Silver x 
 
 Flats xv. liii. lxxiv. Ixxxvii. 
 
 xcvi. c 
 Fog xxii. xxx 
 Forest Scenery xii. xiii 
 Forest Vista xiv 
 Foregrounds x. xii. xiii. xv. 
 xviii. xix. xxiv. xxxii. Iviii. 
 Ixxiii. lxxxii 
 
 Gaiety in Carpets lxxxvi 
 
INDEX TO GILPIN. 
 
 Galleries for Statues lxxix 
 Garden Scenes lxxviii 
 Glen xii 
 Gloom xovi 
 
 Gothic Architecture xxii 
 Gradation in Landscapes xvi 
 Grand Objects lxxxii 
 Groves, Open xii 
 Grounds, Near xxxvii. Rising 
 IS Hi* Union of lxix. Broken 
 lxxxii 
 
 Harbours, Small xv 
 Hawthorn x 
 Haziness xx. xxi. Ixxxi 
 [* Heaths xii, lxv. Wild xv. Naked 
 j:, xlviii 
 
 lit! Hills xlviii. lxxxii. lxxxiv. lxxxvii. 
 xcviii. cii 
 
 Hilly Countries lxviii. Ixxxiii 
 Hollies x. lxxii 
 Horse Chesnut ix 
 
 I*. Houses xxxvi. xii. li. Situations 
 of xii. xlii. xlviii, lii. lxviii. 
 
 m lxxi. Ixxiii. Gothic Ixxx. 
 
 White Ixxxi 
 
 Islands, in Lakes xxviii. Use of 
 xlix 
 
 Isthmus lix 
 Keep lxix 
 Keswick Lake Jix 
 a Knolls xxxi 
 
 r j c Lady Birch ix 
 
 Lakes xvii. Islands in xxviii. 
 m xxix. xxx. xlix. Ivii lvii. Ame¬ 
 
 rican xxix. Round xlii. Screens 
 1. Of Keswick lix. Artificial 
 lxii 
 
 Landscape, Gradation in xvi. 
 Good xxx. Sublime and Beau¬ 
 tiful xcviii 
 J Lanes xxxvi 
 
 Larch ix 
 Light xx 
 
 Lines, Square xii 
 Lombardy Poplar viii 
 Marshes xcviii 
 Meadow cii 
 
 Mists xx. xxi. xliii. lxxxv 
 Monuments in Churches lxxv 
 
 Moonlight xxxii 
 Mountainous Countries lviii. 
 ixiii 
 
 Mountain Ash viii 
 Mountain Vistas lix 
 Mountains xxvi. xxvii. xxix. xxx. 
 
 xxxi xxxiii. xlix. li. lvii. lix. c. 
 ci. cii. Sides of xl. Naked 
 xii. In Shade xliii. Passes be¬ 
 tween xlvi. Rising from the 
 Water’s Edge xlix. And Val- 
 lies 1. lviii. Views of ci 
 
 Nature, Tracts in a state of liv. 
 
 Deformities in Ix 
 Organ in Churches Ixxvi 
 Ornaments lxii. Of Churches 
 Ixxvi 
 
 Park Scenery xi 
 Passes xlvi 
 Pasturage xii 
 Paths xxiv 
 Paths and Roads lix 
 Peninsulas 1 
 
 Picturesque xii. Horror in xviii. 
 Coasts ib. 
 
 Pines, Weymouth ix 
 
 Pinnacles lxxviii 
 
 Plains Ixiii. xeiii. Large flat 
 
 xxxii 
 
 Planes viii 
 Planting lx 
 
 Poplar viii. Lombardy, ib. 
 Promontories xxv. xxx xxxi 
 Prospects xx 
 
 Rivers xxiv. xxxvi. xliii. xliv. 
 xlviii. liii. Ixxxiii. lxxxvii. xcvii. 
 xcviii. Banks of xxxii. Ro¬ 
 mantic Banks xlv. Beautiful, 
 ib. Made lvii. lxii 
 Rivulets xv 
 
 Roads xvii. Winding, ib. Straight 
 xix. Through Wood xx. Ixvi. 
 xcvi. Through Groves xxv. 
 And Paths lix. FullofBuild- 
 ings xeiii 
 
 Rocks xxxii. xxxv, xliv. 1. lxxxviii 
 xcii. Solitary xxxvi. Grey, ib. 
 Sea Coast lxix. Land ib. 
 Romantic Scenery xii 
 
CV1 
 
 INDEX TO GILPIN 
 
 Ruins xxiii. xxiv. xxxvii. lxv. 
 Ixviii. lxxxi. Ixxxiii. ci. cii. 
 Fictitious xxv. Proper and 
 Picturesque xxxiv. Improve¬ 
 ments ofIxvi 
 Sand Beach xxv 
 
 Scenery xxxi. xxxii. Park xi. 
 xc. Forest xii. xcvii. Woody 
 xiii. Sylvan xxvi. xcvii. Lake 
 xxvii. xxix. Dreary xxxix. 
 Beautiful xliv. River xlv. 
 Lake, very grand xlvii. xlviii. 
 Coast lxiv. Arcadian Ixxiv. 
 Garden lxxviii. Pastoral xci. 
 Fen xciv 
 Scotch Fir ix. Ivi 
 Sea-Coast Scenery lxiv. Views 
 lxv. Rocks lxix. Castle lxx 
 Seats, White lxxxi 
 Shore xiii. xix 
 Silver Fir x 
 
 Simplicity and Variety lv 
 Spires lxxvi. Small xxxvii 
 Spots, White xxii 
 Spruce Fir ix. Ivi 
 Stahles xix 
 
 Statues, Galleries for lxxix 
 Streams xvii. xxx 
 Sun, Evening xiii. Noon-day 
 xliii 
 
 Sycamore ix 
 Sylvan Scenes xxvi 
 Tours lxv 
 
 Tracts in a state of Nature liv 
 Trees vii viii. ix. x. xviii, lxii 
 Triumphal Arches xxv. lxxix 
 
 Vales Iviii- lxxviii. xcvii. Moun¬ 
 tains and Iviii 
 
 Vallies xxxi. 1. lxii. xcvii. xcviil. 
 cii. Open xxviii. Contracted, 
 ib. Rural xxx. Circular xxxi. 
 xxxiv. Beautiful xlvii. lxix. 
 Ixxxvi. Ixxxvii. 
 
 Variety and Simplicity lv 
 Views xxxv. xiii. 1. lxx. Ixxxiv. 
 Extensive, rendered Pictu¬ 
 resque xvii. From Water 
 
 xxxii. Ixviii. lxxi. Ixxxiii. ci. 
 Distant xlviii. Coast lxv. 
 
 Ixxxvii. xci. Castle Ixviii. 
 
 Bird's-eye Ixxxviii. Island xci 
 Villages xxii. liv 
 Vistas xiv. ciii. Forest xiv. 
 
 Mountain lix 
 Walks, bad xlviii 
 Walnut ix 
 Water xxiii. lxiii 
 Water, Views from xxxii 
 Weeping Birch ix 
 Weeping Willow ix 
 Weymouth Pine ix 
 White Seats lxxxi 
 White Spots xxii 
 Wild Heaths xv 
 Willow, Weeping ix 
 Winding Road xiv 
 Wood xii. xxxii. xcvi 
 Woody Scenery xiv. Base of 
 xiii. Summit of ib. 
 
 Wych Elm viii 
 Yew x 
 
 *** For Index to the Tourist’s Grammar, see p. 228. 
 
TOURIST’S GRAMMAR. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 PICTURESQUE SCENERY. 
 
 The term Picturesque is borrowed from the 
 Italians, and according to the idiom of that 
 language, by which the meaning of all adjec¬ 
 tives ending in esco is precisely ascertained, pit - 
 toresco must mean after the manner of Painters . 
 Accordingly, picturesque parts are those which 
 Nature has formed in the style and manner ap¬ 
 propriated to painting.— R. P. Knight 
 
 “ The Picturesque ” implies that which is 
 like to a picture, or such combinations of form, 
 light, shade, colour, and effect, as a painter 
 would choose to record by his pencil. A fun¬ 
 damental error has arisen out of the too common 
 opinion, that all which is not rugged and rude 
 is not picturesque; whereas, beauty and fitness 
 
2 
 
 PJCTURESGlUE SCENERY. 
 
 are its indispensable characteristics. It exists 
 wherever these qualities are combined, and 
 ceases where they are not. The picturesque 
 ends at the point where nature or art is distorted 
 or exaggerated; where nature herself is extrava¬ 
 gant, she is not beautiful, but fantastic. — Pap - 
 worth , 52. 
 
 The following, however, are distinctions be¬ 
 tween objects in Nature and on Pictures. 
 
 1. The field of vision , or quantity of view in 
 nature, is much greater than any picture will 
 admit. 2. The view from an eminence down a 
 steep hill is not to be represented in painting, 
 although it is often one of the most pleasing cir¬ 
 cumstances of natural landscape. 3. The light, 
 which a painter may bring from any point of the 
 compass, must, in real scenery, depend on the 
 time of day. The light of a picture can only 
 be made strong by a contrast of shade, while in 
 nature every object may be strongly illumined 
 without destroying the composition or disturbing 
 the keeping. Repton. 4. Nature has no fore¬ 
 grounds. 5. Variety may be gratified by natural 
 landscape in a thousand ways, which painting 
 cannot imitate.* No objects are picturesque 
 
 * A statement of further differences may be seen 
 in Alison, Taste, i. 124—126. 
 
GROUND. 
 
 3 
 
 which do not strike the imagination by them¬ 
 selves.— Alison , on Taste , i. 43. 
 
 Gilpin’s works on the Picturesque are more 
 applicable to Drawings than to Nature; but his 
 remark that the predominance of shade over 
 light is a great source of picturesque beauty, 
 applies to both. Nevertheless, all the systems 
 oppose too many limits to nature; for though it 
 is in the main true that rough, not smootli 
 objects, and curved lines (for there are no 
 straight ones in nature), are essential charac¬ 
 teristics of the Picturesque, yet Nature fre¬ 
 quently moulds both smooth objects and straight 
 lines (formed by art) into a picturesque cha¬ 
 racter, only by uneven surface, contrast, or no¬ 
 velty. 
 
 Ground, wood, rock, and water, are the sub¬ 
 jects on which Nature operates. 
 
 I. GROUND. 
 
 Flats of a considerable extent must have large 
 boundaries of wood, in bold outline of promi¬ 
 nence and recess.— JVheatley , 4, 8vo edit 
 
 Flats, with falls on one side and heights on 
 the other, must be broken into numerous dis¬ 
 tinct parts. Id. 5. 
 
4 
 
 PICTURESGLUE SCENERY. 
 
 Channels between hillocks ought never to run 
 in straight, nor even in regularly curved lines, 
 but wind gently, and constantly vary in form 
 and direction.— Wheatley , 18. 
 
 The slopes of a swell should be broken now 
 and then into hollows, to take off from the 
 heaviness of the mass.— Id . 7. 
 
 A hollow below the brow of a hill reduces it 
 to a meagre narrow ridge ; an abrupt fall never 
 joins with a concave above it; for a sharp edge 
 divides them, and that must be rounded or flat¬ 
 tened, i. e. a convex or level must be interposed. 
 — Ibid. 
 
 Levels must be varied by convex and concave 
 forms, but never semicircles, or regular shapes. 
 Concaves generally form the most beautiful 
 ground. (Id. 7.) In made grounds, the con¬ 
 nection is the principal consideration, and all 
 lines which break the surface should be hid or 
 disguised. If a swell descends upon a level; if 
 a hollow sinks from it, the level is an abrupt 
 termination, and a little rim marks it distinctly. 
 To cover that rim, a short sweep at the foot of a 
 swell, a small rotundity at the entrance of a 
 hollow, must be interposed.— Id. 
 
 Ground of continued descent one way should 
 be left on the descent unplanted. The eye. 
 
GKOUND. 
 
 5 
 
 however, must not dart down the whole length 
 immediately in one direction, bat should be 
 insensibly conducted towards the principal point 
 with some circuity and delay; but, whatever 
 break be chosen, the position of it must be ol>- 
 lique to the line which is to be broken.— Wheat¬ 
 ley , 19. 
 
 If in ground all descending one way, one piece 
 is twisted by another, the general fall is ob¬ 
 structed by it; but if all the parts incline in the 
 same direction, it is hardly credible how small 
 a declivity will seem to be considerable* An 
 appearance even of steepness may be given to 
 a very gentle descent, by raising hillocks upon 
 it, which lean to the point whither all the rest 
 are tending, but they should not all lie in the 
 same direction ; some may seem to point to it 
 directly; others to incline very much; others 
 but little; some partially, some entirely. If 
 the direction be strongly marked on a few prin¬ 
 cipal parts, great liberties may be taken with 
 others, provided none of them are turned the 
 contrary way. The general idea must, how. 
 ever, be preserved. A hillock which only in¬ 
 tercepts the sight, if it does not contribute to 
 the principal effect, is an unnecessary excres¬ 
 cence, and even an interruption in the general 
 tendency, though it hide nothing, is a blemish. 
 
6 
 
 PICTURES GLUE SCENERY. 
 
 On a descent, any hollow, any fall which has 
 not an outlet to lower ground, is a hole; the 
 eye skips over it, instead of being continued 
 along it; it is a gap to the composition. If 
 a steep is too precipitate it may be broken into 
 parts, some of which shall incline less than the 
 whole before inclined to the principal direction, 
 and by turning them quite away we may even 
 change the course of the descent.— Wheatley, 12. 
 
 Plantations must not go directly athwart a 
 descent, but obliquely.— Id . 24. 
 
 Tame scenes abmit of many varieties, but few 
 and only faint contrasts.— Id. 20. 
 
 Flats ought to be highly and variously or¬ 
 namented, in order to occupy the mind, and 
 prevent our regretting the insipidity of an uni¬ 
 form plain.— Lord Karnes' Elements of Criti¬ 
 cism^ vol. ii. 446. 
 
 There is always great cheerfulness in a view 
 on a flat lawn, well stocked with cattle, if it be 
 properly bounded by wood at a distance; nei¬ 
 ther too far off to lessen its importance, nor too 
 near to act as a confinement to the scene; and 
 which contributes also to break those straight 
 and parallel lines that are the only causes of dis¬ 
 gust in aflat situation. Uneven ground may be 
 more striking in a picture, and more interesting 
 
GROUND. 
 
 7 
 
 to the stranger’s eye; it may be more bold, or 
 magnificent, or romantic; but the character of 
 cheerfulness is peculiar to the plain. — Repton's 
 Inquiry , 53. 
 
 In concave ground, Mr. Repton proposes to 
 plant the highest ground; and the flood the 
 lowest by a lake or river, because all the view 
 from the house must be within the natural am¬ 
 phitheatre, which should therefore be enriched 
 with trees, or be open only to catch distant 
 views.— Id. 51. 
 
 In convex ground, where the site commands 
 views, he recommends only a shelter of offices, 
 kitchen-gardens, and appendages, and walks 
 through shrubberies, plantations, and small se¬ 
 questered lawns, sometimes winding into rich 
 internal scenery, and sometimes breaking out 
 upon beautiful points of view, the fences being 
 either sunk or concealed by plantations.— Id. 52. 
 
 In ground full of hillocks and hollows (if of 
 small dimension), the surface may be increased in 
 apparent extent by raising the hills, and sinking 
 the hollows.— Id. 58. 
 
 The ugliest ground is that which has nei¬ 
 ther the beauty of smoothness, verdure, and 
 gentle undulation, nor the picturesqueness of 
 bold and sudden breaks, and varied tints of 
 
8 
 
 PICTURESQ.UE SCENERY. 
 
 soils. Of such kind is ground that has been 
 disturbed, and left in that unfinished state; 
 as in a rough ploughed field run to sward! 
 Such, also, are the slimy shores of a flat tide 
 river, or the sides of a mountain stream in sum¬ 
 mer, composed merely of loose stones, uniformly 
 continued, without any mould or vegetation. 
 The steep shores of rivers, where the tide rises at 
 times to a great height, and deposits promonto- 
 tories of mud; and those on which torrents 
 among the mountains leave huge shapeless heaps 
 of stones, may certainly lay claim to some mix- 
 ture of deformity.— Price , i. 93. 
 
 The sides of smooth green hills, tom by floods, 
 are also deformities, because they assimilate 
 living animals, disfigured by gashes. Quarries, 
 gravel-pits, and heaps of mould and stones, are 
 also deformities— Id. i. 195. 
 
 [The general rule is, to conceal all deformities 
 by planting. Nature covers all winding brooks, 
 whether occasionally dry or not, by fringing 
 them with trees and underwood; and she throws 
 mountain torrents into cascades by breaking the 
 fall with rocks or interruptions, and hanging 
 trees or bushes. Art, therefore, has here" no 
 difficulty. Only break the chasm with steps, 
 and plant the sides. Holes and heaps she con- 
 
GROUND. 
 
 9 
 
 eeals by briars, weeds, or wild trees. If the 
 former are planted not only within them, but 
 around them, in an irregular form, with low 
 trees, the interior with the taller kind, or vice 
 versa with regard to heaps, the inequalities are 
 not apparent; but, if near the dwelling, such 
 ground should be levelled, or thrown into forms 
 accordant with the proposed disposition of the 
 artificial embellishment.]—See II. 'W ood. 
 
 There are, in many places, deep hollows and 
 broken ground, not immediately in view, which 
 do not interfere with any sweep of lawn neces¬ 
 sary to be kept open. To fill up and level these 
 w ould often be difficult and expensive : to dress 
 and adorn them costs little trouble or money. 
 Even in the most smooth and polished scenes, 
 they may be often so masked by plantations, 
 and so united with them, as to blend with the 
 general scenery at a distance, and to produce 
 great novelty and variety when approached.— 
 Id. 196. 
 
 As to distant ground, when it slopes and 
 forms an extensively inclined plane, the masses 
 and groups of trees upon it are exhibited with 
 much greater effect than upon level ground; 
 and when it is continued in local undulations, 
 then the display is benefited.— Papworth’$ Or- 
 nam . Gardening , p. 17. 
 
 b 5 
 
7 Ul 
 
 Through sinking vallies and raising hills, 
 plants and trees obtain the appearance of several 
 growths, as they are situated on greater or less 
 elevations, and produce varieties of incident 
 and opposition of light, shadow, form, and 
 colour, that cannot be effected on level ground. 
 Such undulations also allow a command of 
 views, and occasionally furnish sites for seats, 
 &c.— Papworth , 49. 
 
 Hollows , like exhausted ponds, should he 
 judiciously opened at the extremities, by which 
 a valley-like continuity is produced.— Id. 50. 
 
 The mound or knoll, when a little curved on 
 its surface, and rounding only as it becomes a 
 sort of terrace near the house, is more natural 
 and pleasing than when altogether convex; 
 indeed the rising surfaces of lawn and rising 
 pasture are improved when so hollowed, and 
 are viewed with advantage from lower ground, 
 for they there exhibit the whole area, which is 
 abridged in the other instance; besides, the 
 shadows projected upon them are often consi¬ 
 derably lengthened by this form, and thence 
 become means of greater repose to the land¬ 
 scape.— Id. 51. 
 
 Ground composed of hill and valley in grace¬ 
 ful undulations, exhibits many local and inci¬ 
 dental beauties not possessed by the level plain. 
 
GROUND. 
 
 11 
 
 The continual changes of form produced by the 
 movements of the spectator—the diversity of 
 light, shade, and colour, changed by the varied 
 angles at which they are viewed—the intricacy 
 and pleasing combinations of differently elevated 
 objects as they are passed, all combine to prove 
 the superiority of an undulating surface.— Pap- 
 worth, 51. 
 
 In making ground, attention should be paid 
 to harmony with the character of the country. 
 
 The romantic requires bold and broken 
 ground, combining steep declivities with dell- 
 like ravines; the rural natural irregularities, 
 but not so broken and abrupt; the park and 
 pastoral sweeping and expansive undulation, 
 without the necessity of wholly disguising the 
 means employed for its improvement. The 
 studied landscape, harmonizing with the fea¬ 
 tures, should form the fore-ground of the man¬ 
 sion.— Id. 51. 
 
 Ground may have the character of greatness, 
 wildness, gaiety, tranquillity, or melancholy. 
 If no attention is paid to these circumstances as 
 they occur, in laying out the grounds, the com¬ 
 position is only confusion, and utterly void of 
 effect .—Alison on Taste , ii. 9—13, where this 
 subject is well illustrated. ¥ 
 
12 PICTURESftUE SCENERY. 
 
 II. WOOD. 
 
 Viariety of tints must be consulted. Beautiful 
 masses are formed by a large piece of red green, 
 with a narrow edging of dark green along the 
 further side of it, and beyond that a piece of 
 light green still larger than the first ; or by a 
 yellow green nearest to the eye, beyond that 
 a light green, then a brown green, and lastly 
 a dark green. The dark green must be die 
 laigest, the light green the next in extent, and 
 the yellow green the least of all.— Wheatley, 32. 
 
 No stripes should appear in grouping the trees, 
 —Id. 33. 
 
 Opposites may be set in large quantities close 
 together. A tree which stands out from a plan¬ 
 tation should be separated by its tint as much as 
 its position.— Id. 33, 34. 
 
 Outlines, which cannot be sufficiently varied 
 in form, may be so in appearance by dark and 
 light greens being planted together.— Id. 34. 
 
 Surfaces of wood seen from eminences or 
 hanging woods on the sides of hills are noble 
 
 objects. Both should be carried out of si<dit, 
 
 1 © 7 
 and no boundary be seen beyond.— Id. 36. 
 
 The varieties of a surface are essential to the 
 beauty of it; a continued smooth-shaven level 
 
WOOD. 
 
 13 
 
 of foliage is neither agreeable nor natural. 
 Trees which have different growths break it ill 
 reality, and their shadows, aided by a judicious 
 mixture of greens, still more in appearance.—- 
 Wheatley , 37. 
 
 Single trees in the midst of a wood are im¬ 
 portant to the greatness of the whole, for they 
 relieve it from the character of a shrubby thicket. 
 —Id. 38. 
 
 Trees , thin of boughs and leaves , whose branches 
 tend upwards , or whose heads rise in slender 
 cones , have an appearance more of airiness than 
 importance, and are blemishes in a wood where 
 greatness is the prevailing idea.— Id. 39. 
 
 In romantic situations of broken ground *, over¬ 
 spread with wood , strong contrasts are desirable. 
 A deep hollow may sink into dark greens; an 
 abrupt bank may be shewn by a rising stage of 
 aspiring trees; a sharp ridge by a narrow line 
 of conical shapes. Firs are of great use upon 
 such occasions. Their tints, their form, their 
 singularity, recommend them.— Id. 40, 41. 
 
 Hanging woods should be thick.— Id. 41. 
 
 Thin woods viewed from eminences are good. 
 —Id. 41. 
 
 The outlines of woods should be irregular.— 
 Id. 42. 
 
14 PICTURESQUE SCENERY. 
 
 Prominences in woods should be lengthy; the 
 recesses deep.— Wheatley , 43. 
 
 A few trees should stand out from a thicket 
 which belongs to a wood.— Id. 45. 
 
 Woods should be only diversified; but graves 
 should consist of endless variety in the disposi¬ 
 tion of the trees; and differences in the shapes 
 and greens are seldom important.— Id. 47. 
 
 In groves trees should not. be equi-distant 
 from each other, but quite irregular.— Id. 48. 
 
 Recesses should approach the bottom, but 
 never quite reach it.— Id. 49. 
 
 In two or three trees together , the distance and 
 the forms of the trees should be different.— Id. 
 54. 
 
 Any disposition of single trees, if it be but 
 irregular, is natural.— Id. 59. 
 
 Woods, groves, and extensive thickets , are 
 more particularly adapted to the sides of hills 
 and elevated sites. The larger clumps , groups , 
 and single trees to the lower ground.— Marshall. 
 
 A naked hill gives an idea of bleakness, and a 
 valley filled with wood of dankness.— Id. 
 
 Hills should never be partially covered with 
 wood.— Mason?s English Garden. 
 
 In distant objects , the timber tree, in approxi¬ 
 mating, the shrub, ought to prevail.— Marshall. 
 
Single trees should be occasionally footed with 
 evergreens aud native flowers.— Marshall. 
 
 If buildings or other artificial ornaments abound, 
 in the offscape so as to mark it strongly, they 
 ought more or less to appear in the fore-ground. 
 If the distance abound with wood, the fore-ground 
 should be thickened if open and naked, ele¬ 
 gance rather than richness should be studied. 
 —Id. 
 
 Woods on hills, thinly scattered at top, should 
 thicken as they descend.— Gilpin's Northern 
 Tour, i. 120. 
 
 A hill covered with trees appears more beauti¬ 
 ful, as well as more lofty, than when naked; to 
 distribute trees in a plain requires more art. 
 Near the dwelling-house they ought to be scattered 
 so distant from each other as not to break the 
 unity of the field, and even at the greatest dis¬ 
 tance of distinct vision, they ought never to be 
 so crowded as to hide any beautiful object.— 
 Lord Karnes’ Elem. of Criticism, ii. 440. 
 
 A number of thickets in a line, with an opening 
 in each, directs the eye from one to another. 
 This will make them appear more distant from 
 each other than in reality they are, and in ap¬ 
 pearance enlarge the size of the whole field. 
 To give this plan its utmost effect, the space 
 
16 
 
 PICTURES&UE SCENERY. 
 
 between the thickets ought to be considerable; 
 and in order that each may be seen distinctly, 
 the opening nearest the eye ought to be wider 
 than the second, the second wider than the 
 third, and so on.— Kaimes , 441. 
 
 By a judicious distribution of trees various 
 beauties may be produced. A landscape so 
 rich as to engross the whole attention, and so 
 limited as secretly to be comprehended under a 
 single view, has a much finer effect than the 
 most extensive landscape, which requires a wan¬ 
 dering of the eye through successive scenes. 
 This observation suggests a capital rule in laying 
 out a field, which is never, at any one station, to 
 admit a larger prospect than can easily be taken 
 in at once. A field so happily situated as to 
 command a great extent of prospect, is a de¬ 
 lightful subject for applying this rule; let the 
 prospect be split into proper parts by means of 
 trees, studying, at the same time, to introduce 
 all the variety possible.— Id. 442. 
 
 In the disposition of trees , according to the 
 paintings of Claude, some should have their 
 stem half concealed by bushes and thickets; 
 others should stand alone, but by means of those 
 thickets or detached trees, be connected with 
 other groups of various sizes and shapes.— Price , 
 i. 17, 31. 
 
WOOD* 17 
 
 Pinioned trees in plantations drawn up straight 
 and even together are tame.— Price , i. 26. 
 
 A continued sweep of hills , either entirely 
 wooded or entirely bare, will, in the exposed 
 parts, have one broad light upon them; in the 
 parts hidden, one broad shade. If the wood be 
 thinned in such a manner as to retain masses, 
 groups, and single trees so disposed as to present 
 a pleasing and connected whole, though witli 
 detached parts ; or the bare hills be planted in 
 die same style, the variety of light and shadow 
 will be greatly increased, and the general breadth 
 still be preserved; nor will that breadth be in¬ 
 jured if an old ruin, a cottage, or any building 
 of a quiet tint were to be discovered among the 
 trees. But if the wood be so thinned as to have 
 a poor scattered unconnected appearance; or 
 die hills be planted with clumps and detached 
 trees, the lights and shadows will have the same 
 broken and disjointed effect as the objects them¬ 
 selves ; and if to this be added any harsh con¬ 
 trast, such as clumps of firs and white buildings, 
 the irritation will be greatly increased. In all 
 these cases, the eye, instead of reposing on one 
 broad connected whole, is stopped and harassed 
 by little disunited and discordant parts.— Id. i. 
 150. 
 
18 
 
 PlCTURESaUE SCENERY. 
 
 To avoid edginess , and preserve a fine effect 
 of light and shade in the disposition of woods, 
 the outline against the sky should be attended 
 to, so that nothing lumpish, meagre, or dis¬ 
 cordant should be there; for at all times in such 
 a situation the form is made out; but most of all, 
 when twilight has melted the other parts to¬ 
 gether. At that time, many varied groups and 
 elegant shapes of trees which were scarcely no¬ 
 ticed in the more general diffusion of light, 
 distinctly appear; then, too, the stubborn clump , 
 which before was but too plainly seen, makes a 
 still fouler blot on the horizon .—Prtce, 154. 
 
 Clumps should stretch into length, and not be 
 of uniform size.— Wheatley , 56. 
 
 Clumps are useful as breaks of continuity, 
 and they are good, if by their succession they 
 diversify a continued outline of wood; if be¬ 
 tween them they form beautiful glades; if al¬ 
 together they cast an extensive lawn into an 
 agreeable shape.— Id. 57. 
 
 Clumps should never be below the eye.— Id. 58. 
 
 Ihe points of abrupt hills or promontories 
 projecting over lakes and rivers are favourable 
 situations for clumps.— Id. 56. 
 
 Natural groups, formed by trees of different 
 ages and sizes, and at different distances from 
 
WOOD. 
 
 19 
 
 each other, often, too, by a mixture of those of 
 the largest size with thorns, hollies, and others 
 of inferior growth, are full of variety in their 
 outlines; and from the same causes, no two 
 groups are exactly alike. But clumps , from the 
 trees being generally of the same age and growth, 
 from their being planted nearly at the same 
 distance in a circular form, and from each tree 
 being equally pressed by his neighbour, areas 
 like each other as so many puddings turned out 
 of one common mould. Natural groups are 
 full of openings and hollows of trees advancing 
 before, or retiring behind, each other; all pro¬ 
 ductive of intricacy, of variety, of deep shadows, 
 and brilliant lights: in walking about them the 
 form changes at each step; new combinations, 
 new lights and shades, new inlets present them¬ 
 selves in succession. But clumps , like compact 
 bodies of soldiers, resist attacks from all quarters; 
 examine them in every point of view; walk 
 round and round them; no opening, no va¬ 
 cancy, no stragglers; but, in the true military 
 character, ils font face partouL — Id. i. 245. See 
 Plantations. 
 
 Avenues and Belts. Nature’s vistas are formed 
 sometimes of mountains, sometimes of rocks, 
 and sometimes of woods; but if the idea of re- 
 
20 
 
 PICTURESQUE SCENERY. 
 
 gularity be imposed upon the general form, the 
 parts are broken with a thousand varieties,— 
 Gilpin's Wye , 124. 
 
 Belts are mere insipid circles, like a snake 
 with the tail in its mouth. They have all the 
 sameness and formality of the avenue to which 
 they have succeeded, without any of its simple 
 grandeur; for though in an avenue you see the 
 same objects from beginning to end, and in the 
 belt a new set every twenty yards, yet each suc¬ 
 cessive part of this insipid circle is so like the 
 preceding that, though really different, the dif¬ 
 ference is scarcely felt; and there is nothing that 
 so dulls, and at the same time so irritates the 
 mind, as perpetual change without variety. 
 
 The avenue has a most striking effect from the 
 very circumstance of its being straight. No 
 other figure can give that image of a grand 
 Gothic aisle, with its natural columns and 
 vaulted roof, the general mass of which fills the 
 eye, while the particular parts insensibly steal 
 from it in a long gradation of perspective; but 
 the avenue must not be too long; for Burke 
 observes, that colonnades and avenues of trees of 
 a moderate length are far grander than when 
 they are suffered to run to immense distances, 
 i he broad solemn shade adds a twilight calm to 
 

 
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 \ii 
 
 tout 
 
 iilf: 
 
 sees 
 
 iintie 
 
 dlSK 
 
 bib 
 
 ie£ 
 
 jtk 
 
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 tie 
 
 No 
 
 stk 
 
 steal 
 
 kit 
 
 jrke 
 
 sof 
 
 len 
 
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 to 
 
 WOOD. 21 
 
 the whole, and makes it, above all other places, 
 most suited to meditation. To that also its 
 straightness contributes; for when the mind is 
 disposed to turn inwardly on itself, any serpen¬ 
 tine line would distract the attention—all the ' 
 characteristic beauties of the avenue , its solemn 
 stillness, the religious awe which it inspires, are 
 greatly heightened by moonlight. Perhaps, too, 
 they are the fittest appendage to ancient Castel¬ 
 lated and Abbatial seats. Sometimes, indeed, 
 they do cut through the middle of very beautiful 
 and varied ground, with which the stiffness of 
 their form but ill accords, and where it were 
 greatly to be wished they had never been planted; 
 but, being there, it may often be very doubtful 
 whether they ought to be destroyed. As to 
 saving a few of the trees (says Mr. Price), I own 
 I never saw it done with a good effect; they 
 always pointed out the old line, and the spot 
 was haunted by the ghost of the departed avenue . 
 They are, however, sometimes planted where 
 a boundary of wood approaching to a straight 
 line was required; and in such situations they 
 furnish a walk of more perfect and continued 
 shade than any other disposition of trees, and 
 what is of no small consequence, they may not 
 interfere with die rest of the place. \ ou may 
 
22 
 
 FICTURESftUE SCENERY. 
 
 escape from the avenue for a view, but there is 
 none from the belt. It hems you in on all sides; 
 destroys expectation and uncertainty, and damps 
 all search after novelty. 
 
 If ever a belt be allowable, it is where the 
 house is seated on a dead flat, and in a naked 
 ugly country. There, at least, it cannot injure 
 any variety of ground, or exclude any distant 
 prospect. It will also be the real boundary to 
 the eye, however uniform, and any exclusion in 
 such cases is a benefit; but where there is any 
 play of ground, and a descent from the house, 
 it more completely disfigures the place than any 
 other improvement. What most delights us in 
 the intricacy of varied ground, of swelling knolls, 
 and of vallies between them retiring from sight 
 in different directions, amidst trees or thickets, 
 is that, according to Hogarth’s expressions, it 
 leads the eye a kind of wanton chace. This is 
 what he calls the beauty of intricacy, and is that 
 which distinguishes what is produced by soft 
 winding shapes from the more sudden and 
 varying kind, which arises from abrupt and 
 rugged forms. All this wanton chace, as well 
 as the effects of more wild and picturesque in¬ 
 tricacy, is immediately checked by any circular 
 plantation, which never appears to retire from 
 
WOOD. 
 
 23 
 
 the eye and lose itself in the distance; never 
 admits of partial concealments. Whatever va¬ 
 rieties there may be of hills and dales, such a 
 plantation must stiffly cut across them.— Price, 
 i. 216—252. 
 
 Avenues continued . Buildings, in general, do 
 not appear so large, and are not so beautiful, 
 when looked at in front, as when they are seen 
 from an angular station which commands two 
 sides at once, and throws them both into per¬ 
 spective ; but a winding lateral approach is free 
 from these objections. It may, besides, be 
 brought up to the house without disturbing any 
 of the views from it; but an avenue cuts the 
 scenery directly in two, and reduces all the 
 prospect to a narrow vista.— Wheatley , 140. 
 
 A long avenue , terminated by a large old 
 mansion, is a magnificent object, although it 
 may not be a proper subject for a picture; but 
 the view from such a mansion is, perhaps, among 
 the greatest objections to an avenue , because it 
 destroys all variety; since the same landscape 
 would be seen from every house in the kingdom, 
 if a view between rows of trees deserves the 
 name of landscape.— Repton , 25. 
 
 An obelisk temple, or any eye-trap at the end 
 of a long avenue, is puerile.— Id. 26. 
 
24 PICTURES GLUE SCENERY. 
 
 One great mischief of an avenue is, that it 
 divides a park, and cuts it into two distinct parts, 
 thus destroying the variety of lawn.— Reptm, 26. 
 
 But the greatest objection to an avenue is, 
 that (especially in uneven ground) it often acts 
 as a curtain drawn across the most interesting 
 scenery.— Id. 26. 
 
 Belts, with drives through them are bad, be¬ 
 cause the monotony of the same mixtures of 
 trees makes the drive tedious. But if the plan¬ 
 tation be judiciously made of various breadths, 
 if its outline be adapted to the natural shape of 
 the ground, and if the drive he conducted irregu¬ 
 larly through its course, sometimes totally within 
 the dark shade, so?netimes skirting so near Us 
 edge as to shew the different scenes betwixt the 
 trees, and sometimes quitting the wood entirely to 
 enjoy the unconfined view of distant prospects; 
 such a plantation is the best possible means of 
 connecting and displaying the various pleasing 
 points of view at a distance from each other 
 within the limits of the park; and the only just 
 objection is, where such points do not occur 
 often enough, and where the length of a drive is 
 substituted for its variety. — Id. 51, 151. 
 
 There should be no drives or paths around 
 belts, except in small villas, where a dry path 
 
WOOD. 
 
 25 
 
 around a person’s own field is always more inter¬ 
 esting to him than any other walk.— Repton, 173. 
 
 A Belt should not be adopted where there are 
 parks, but where the domain is small, it obtains 
 seclusion; it opposes itself to offensive neigh¬ 
 bourhoods over which the person planting may 
 have no controul; it conceals the boundary 
 fences, and if planted with proper trees, some 
 of which the fence may be formed to exclude, in 
 occasional groups, or single trees, it obtains a 
 natural character of effect. So, if the interior 
 form be made to follow the irregular workings of 
 nature in the shapes of bays, promontories, and 
 islets of pasture and plantation, the boundary 
 will soon lose the evidence of the labours of art. 
 — Papworth, 44. 
 
 The common practice in Belts of repeating, 
 alternately, oak, elm, lime, fir, &c. i s absurd, 
 for it utterly destroys effect by identity. The 
 kinds of trees should be suited to the soil, and 
 they should be planted in masses conformably 
 to suitableness, contrast, opposition, and har¬ 
 mony of form and colour; not be abruptly 
 placed in masses of oak, elm, and other trees, 
 but be, as it were, dove-tailed into each other, 
 in the way that nature herself has joined varie¬ 
 ties of soil and growths.— Id. 45, 46. 
 
Plantations . Nature in forest scenery is the 
 best guide. Through trees being too thick 
 in this wild scenery, a vast variety of light 
 and shadow is lost, nevertheless, in forests 
 and woody commons, we sometimes come from 
 a part where hollies had chiefly prevailed; to 
 another, where junipers or yews are the princi¬ 
 pal evergreens; and where, perhaps, there is the 
 same sort of change in the deciduous underwood. 
 This strikes us with a new impression; but mix 
 them equally together in all parts, and diversity 
 becomes a source of monotony. 
 
 The great cause of the superior variety and 
 richness of unimproved parks and forests, when 
 compared with lawns and dressed grounds, is, 
 that the trees and groups are seldom totally 
 alone and unconnected; that they seldom ex¬ 
 hibit either of those two principal defects in the 
 composition of landscapes, the opposite ex¬ 
 tremes of being either too crowded, or too scat¬ 
 tered ; whereas, the clump is a most unhappy 
 union of them both. It is scattered in re¬ 
 spect to the general composition, and close and 
 lumpish when considered by itself. 
 
 Single trees, when they stand alone and are 
 round-headed, have some tendency towards the 
 defects of the clump; and it is worthy of re- 
 
WOOD. 
 
 27 
 
 mark, that in the Liber Veritatis of Claude, 
 consisting of nearly two hundred drawings, there 
 are not (Mr. Price believes) more than three 
 single trees. This is one strong proof, which 
 the works of other painters would fully confirm, 
 that those who most studied the effect of visible 
 objects attended infinitely less to their distinct 
 individual forms than to their grouping and 
 connection. 
 
 The great sources of all that painters admire 
 in natural scenery are accident and neglect, for 
 in forests and old parks the rough bushes nurse 
 up young trees and grow up with them; and 
 thence arises that infinite variety of openings, 
 of inlets, of glades, of forms of trees, &c. The 
 rudeness of many such scenes might be softened 
 by a judicious style and degree of clearing and 
 smoothing, without injuring what might be suc¬ 
 cessfully imitated in the most polished parts, 
 their varied and intricate character.— Price , i. 
 287—290. 
 
 To adapt this forest scenery to the vicinity of 
 the house, nothing more is necessary than to 
 change the forest trees and underwood for exo¬ 
 tics, such as planes, acacias, tulip-trees, pines, 
 arbutuses, laurels, laurustines, red cedars, and 
 c 2 
 
28 
 
 PICTURES&UE SCENERY. 
 
 the like, having the ground mowed instead of 
 fed, and the clumps dug.— Price , ii. 126, 377. 
 
 Larch Plantations produce a complete mono¬ 
 tony of outline.—See postea , § Mixture of 
 Trees. 
 
 Fir-plantations never harmonize with the rest 
 of the landscape. They form black, heavy 
 spots. One principal cause of this heaviness is 
 their being planted so close together. The in¬ 
 side of these plantations is very dismal. The 
 whole wood is a collection of tall naked poles, 
 with a few ragged boughs near the top; above, 
 one uniform rusty cope, seen through decayed 
 and decaying sprays and branches; below, the 
 soil parched and blasted with the baleful drop¬ 
 pings ; hardly a plant or a blade of grass; nothing 
 which can give an idea of life or vegetation. 
 Even its gloom is without solemnity: it is only 
 dull and dismal, and what light there is 
 
 Serves only to discover scenes of woe, 
 
 “ Regions of sorrow, doleful shades.’* 
 
 But fir plantations, such as the Scotch fir 
 and the pine tribe, if planted with room to 
 spread, may, in their gloom, have a character of 
 solemn grandeur. That grandeur arises from 
 the broad and varied canopy over head, 
 
 “ Media ipsa ingentem sustinet umbram 
 
 Virgil 
 
to:*?** 
 
 : .-- ■ :~ib»3cfctvi ; «*i-w- : - >fc - 
 
 SillTlii^TOi 
 
 WOOD, 
 
 29 
 
 from the small number and great size of the 
 trunks by which the canopy is supported, and 
 from the large undisturbed spaces between them. 
 —Price, i. 273, 276. 
 
 Mr. Price recommends the planting of the 
 firs to be at various distances of ten, twelve, or 
 more yards asunder, and the spaces between to 
 be filled with lower evergreens. All this would, 
 for some years, grow up together, till at length 
 the firs would shoot above them all, and find 
 nothing afterwards to check their growth in any 
 direction. Suppose such a wood, upon the 
 largest scale, to be left to itself, and not a bough 
 to be cut for twenty, thirty, any number of 
 years; and that then it came into the hands of 
 a person who wished to give variety to this rich 
 and uniform mass. He might in some parts 
 choose to have an open grove of firs only. In 
 this case, he would only have to clear away all 
 the lower evergreens; and the firs which re¬ 
 mained, from the free, unconstrained growth of 
 their heads, would appear as if they had been 
 planted with that design. In other parts, he 
 might make that beautiful forest-like mixture of 
 open grove, with thickets and loosely scattered 
 trees; of lawns and glades of various shapes and 
 
 
30 PICTURESQUE SCENERY. 
 
 dimensions, differently blended. Sometimes he 
 might find the ground scooped out into a deep 
 hollow, forming a sort of amphitheatre; and 
 there, in order to show its general shape, and 
 yet preserve its sequestered character, he might 
 only make a partial clearing; when all that can 
 give intricacy, variety, and retirement to a spot 
 of this kind would be ready to his hands.— Price, 
 i. 281, 282. 
 
 Nothing can be gained by thinning a thick 
 wood of firs only. There is no room for selec¬ 
 tion ; no exercise of the judgment in arranging 
 the groups, masses, or single trees; no power 
 of renewing vegetation by pruning or cutting 
 down; no hope of producing the smallest intri¬ 
 cacy or variety. If one bare pole be removed, 
 that behind differs from it so little that one 
 might exclaim with Macbeth: 
 
 Thy air 
 
 Is like the first—a third is like the former — 
 Horrible sight. - Id. i. 285 . 
 
 Plantations in general .—Separate groves, or 
 woods of different trees, have their beauty; but 
 oaks may be also suffered to prevail in some 
 places, beech in others, birch in a third; and in 
 

 WOOD. 
 
 31 
 
 some parts there may be encouraged such masses 
 of thorns, hazle and maple, hollies, or othei 
 brush-wood of low growth, as may best imitate 
 the thickets of a forest— Repton , 23. 
 
 Thinning plantations . It is not sufficient to 
 attend to the large trees. Often the loss of a 
 few trees, nay, of a single tree of middling size, 
 is of infinite consequence to the general effect 
 of the place, by making an irreparable breach 
 in the outline of a principal wood: often some 
 
 A 
 
 W 
 
 m 
 
 tri- 
 
 one 
 
 ,01 
 
 iiit 
 
 Be 
 
 in 
 
 * Mr. Repton here says, “ It is difficult to lay 
 down rules for any system of planting, which may 
 ultimately be useful to this purpose. Time, neg¬ 
 lect, and accident, produce unexpected beauties. 
 The gardener, or nurseryman, makes his holes at 
 equal distances, and generally in straight lines ; he 
 then fills the holes with plants, and carefully avoids 
 putting two of the same sort near each other; he con¬ 
 siders them as cabbages or turnips which will rob 
 each other’s growth, unless placed at equal distan¬ 
 ces ; although in forests we must admire those dou¬ 
 ble trees, or thick clusters, whose stems seem to rise 
 from the same root, and are entangled with the root 
 of thorns and bushes in every direction.”— Ibid . 
 
 This mode of planting the trees in equi-distance 
 - is alone sufficient to produce formality; but it has 
 another mischief pointed out posted, $ Groups. 
 
32 PICTURESQUE SCENERY. 
 
 of the most beautiful groups owe the playful 
 variety of their form, and their happy connec¬ 
 tion with other groups, to some apparently in¬ 
 significant, and to many eyes even uglv, trees._ 
 
 Price, i. 255. 
 
 Disposition of Plantations . The arrangement 
 of groups and masses of trees should be so made 
 that they shall not divide the ground into equal 
 portions, for it is important that broad spaces of 
 verdure shall be preserved and contrasted by 
 the less, being so proportioned that the larger 
 shall be seemingly magnified by the opposition. 
 L nequal gradations in distances of objects should 
 also be observed: on this the effect of the aerial 
 and linear perspective of the scene is greatly 
 dependant.— Papworth , 73. 
 
 When the ground consists of hill and valley, 
 .much beauty may be produced by disposing 
 the forms so as to rise irregularly up the ascent, 
 thus increasing the heights, whilst the valley is 
 chiefly disposed in pasture; for the seeming 
 elevation of the hill is magnified by the addi¬ 
 tional altitude of the trees, so long as the valley 
 is unoccupied.— -Id. 73. 
 
 Quantities , management of or sizes of the 
 trees for the masses . When the quantities are 
 nearly equal in any design, the composition is 
 
WOOD, 
 
 33 
 
 bad. In planting, they should be so arranged 
 that contention shall not exist between them, 
 but that the low growths shall improve the ap¬ 
 pearance of their more exalted neighbours, and 
 the groups readily yield to the larger masses; 
 these should all occasionally give way to the 
 expanse of the plain or the water, which, in 
 other points of view, will as readily be made to 
 submit to them.— Papworth , 74. 
 
 Projecting insulated trees and small groups. 
 Trees planted so as to appear detached from 
 the groups or masses, and being yet in their 
 neighbourhood, have a very pleasing effect, pro¬ 
 duce variety, and give solidity and breadth to 
 the greater masses. These should be placed at 
 unequal distances, or they betray the interference 
 of art. Insulated trees are rarely unpleasing 
 when 90 disposed as to leave spaces, decidedly 
 differing in quantity, between them : it is other¬ 
 wise if they occupy the lawn or park in spaces 
 of mathematical sameness ; and it has been ob¬ 
 served of small groups, that the effect is most 
 agreeable when their trees are planted in odd 
 numbers, at least as far as seven, beyond which 
 the eye does not regard whether the number is 
 odd or even.— Id. 74, 75. Of Groups, see 
 postea . 
 
 c 5 
 
( 
 
 34 PICTURESQUE SCENERY. 
 
 Light , Shade , and Colour in Plantations. The 
 broad effects of light and shade are produced by 
 irregularity of outline, large bays, and bold 
 promontories. Light is augmented in the ge¬ 
 neral arrangements by light-coloured trees, and 
 depths are increased by the dark ones. Thus 
 contrast and opposition may be produced, and 
 the general effect of disposition and colour be 
 given, even without the invigorating benefit of 
 sunshine.— Papworth , 77. 
 
 In natural scenery, the colours of the great 
 ingredients, ground, water, woods, rocks, and 
 buildings, are very different, and are susceptible 
 of great varieties. In every scene, however, 
 which is expressive, we look for and demand an 
 unity in the expression of these different colours. 
 The vivid green, so pleasing in a cheerful land¬ 
 scape, ill suits a scene of melancholy and deso¬ 
 lation ; the brown heath, which harmonizes with 
 gloom and barrenness, is intolerable in a land¬ 
 scape of gaiety. The grey rock, so venerable in 
 grave and solemn scenes, has but a feeble effect 
 in scenes of horror. The blue and peaceful 
 stream, which gives such loveliness to the soli¬ 
 tary valley, appears altogether misplaced amid 
 scenes of rude and savage majesty. The white 
 foam and the discoloured waters of the torrent. 
 
WOOD. 
 
 alone suit the wildness of the expression.— 
 Alison , ii. 40. 
 
 Mixture of trees in Plantations . The pre¬ 
 vailing trees of the country should be the chief, 
 and other trees of a dark colour, or spire-like 
 form, though when planted in patches they 
 have such a motley appearance, yet may be so 
 grouped with these prevailing trees of the 
 country as to produce infinite richness and va¬ 
 riety, and still seem part of the original design. 
 The summits of round-headed trees, especially 
 the oak, vary in each tree, but there can be only 
 one form in those of pointed trees; on that ac¬ 
 count, wherever ornament is the aim, great care 
 ought to be taken that the general outline be 
 round and full, and only partially broken and 
 varied by pointed trees, and that too many of 
 those should not rise above the others, so as 
 principally to catch the eye. Now, wherever 
 larches are mixed, even in a small proportion, 
 over the whole of a plantation, the quickness of 
 their growth, their pointed tops, and the pecu¬ 
 liarity of their colour, make them so conspicuous 
 that the whole wood seems to consist of nothing 
 else.— Price , i. 269. 
 
 An alternating mixture of trees produces only 
 dullness and heaviness of colour, in consequence 
 
36 
 
 PICTURESQUE SCENERY. 
 
 of the complete mixture of the bright and the 
 dark together; thus black and white, the greatest 
 of all contrasts, when blended become grey; 
 thus, too, the most brilliant primitive colours, 
 red, blue, and yellow, w'hen mixed together, 
 form a dusky hue, nearly approaching to a 
 sooty black.— Papivorth , 45. 
 
 The great difference in the colours of trees 
 requires attention in their composition into 
 groups. If the oak, the yew, the birch, the fir, 
 the aspin, the willow, &c. were mixed together 
 indiscriminately, no relation and no character 
 will be preserved. If, however, such trees only 
 are united as are distinguished by colours of a 
 similar character, the composition will be beau¬ 
 tiful, and the variety will only serve to en¬ 
 hance and strengthen the expression. Different 
 compositions of colours also are necessary to 
 the different appearances of trees, whether as 
 clumps, as thickets, as groves, or as woods. The 
 same degree of uniformity in colouring which is 
 beautiful in a wood, is displeasing in a thicket or 
 open grove: the same degree of variety which 
 is beautiful in these, is unpleasing in the other. 
 — Alison , ii. 41. 
 
 Groups should be planted at unequal dis¬ 
 tances, and be of the same kind of trees. Those 
 
pleasing combinations of trees which we admire 
 in forest scenery, will often be found to consist of 
 forked trees, or at least of trees placed so near 
 to each other that the branches intermix; and 
 by a natural effort of vegetation the stems of the 
 trees themselves are forced from their perpendi¬ 
 cular direction, which is so observable in trees 
 planted at regular distances from each other. No 
 groups will therefore appear natural unless two 
 or more trees are planted very near each other; 
 whilst, however, the perfection of a group con¬ 
 sists in a combination of trees of different ages, 
 size, and character, yet it will be generally more 
 consistent to nature if groups be formed of the 
 same species of trees.— Carlisle , 84. 
 
 Almost any ordinary tree may contribute to 
 form a group. Its deformities are lost in a 
 crowd; nay, even the deformities of one tree 
 may be corrected by the deformities of another. 
 — Gilpin?s JVye , 2. 
 
 Forms of different character never unite and 
 constitute a beautiful composition. A mixture, 
 for instance, of the light and upright branches 
 of the almond, with the falling branches of the 
 willow; the heavy branches of the horse-clies- 
 nut, and the wild arms of the oak would be ab¬ 
 solute confusion, and would be intolerable in 
 
38 
 
 PICTIJRESQ.U E SCENERY. 
 
 any scene where design or intention could be 
 supposed. The mixture of trees, on the other 
 hand, which correspond in their form, and unite 
 in the production of one character, constitute 
 beautiful groups.— Alison , ii. 30. 
 
 Trees which flourish earliest and fade latest 
 should be joined together.— Mason's English 
 Garden. 
 
 The beech and pine trees are best suited to 
 hills and bleak situations; the ash to groves.— 
 Marshall. 
 
 Oak and elm are adapted to strong; the 
 beech, larch, or pines to light soils.— Id. 
 
 Elms harmonize with the Scotch fir.— Gil - 
 pin's Forest Scenery, i. 40. 
 
 The union of oak and beech produces a fine 
 contrast of tints.— Id. 47. 
 
 In the choice of trees, the following arrange¬ 
 ment is recommended by Mr. Papworth : 
 
 Forest Trees for the leading features and 
 characteristics of the place *. 
 
 * In planting forest trees with underwood, the 
 former ought to be at least thirty feet apart, say the 
 Pules for Planting, but irregularity and grouping 
 close ought to be consulted where the object is or¬ 
 nament. 
 
WOOD. 
 
 39 
 
 u 
 
 Low Growths to plant with them, for the 
 purposes of thickening the bottom, to produce 
 contrasts, and occasionally to soften the outline 
 forms *. 
 
 Copse or Underwood to thicken. 
 
 Plantation or Ornamental Trees for the 
 immediate vicinity of the home walks, and to 
 intersperse in suitable situations. 
 
 Evergreens to produce variety, and supply 
 foliage in the winter. 
 
 Shrubs to ornament and soften. 
 
 Simple characters of trees. That of the weep¬ 
 ing willow is melancholy; of the birch and asp 
 gaiety ; of the horse-chesnut, solemnity; of the 
 oak, majesty ; of the yew, sadness. — Alison , on 
 Taste , i. 27. 
 
 Characters of trees to he consulted; viz. whe¬ 
 ther in the connection of objects their outlines 
 are best suited to the pointed forms of the fir, or 
 to the rounding aud undulating forms of other 
 trees; again , as to the character of the architec¬ 
 ture adopted: firs do not harmonize with the 
 
 * Amphitheatre plantations in climax, of low 
 growths in front, higher growths next, and so in 
 succession: the tallest behind have been recom¬ 
 mended.—See Marshall. 
 
1 1 
 
 PICTURESQUE SCENERY. 
 
 Gothic style; its pinnacles and pointed termi¬ 
 nations offer no contrast to their upright stems 
 and conic forms; whereas, the horizontal and 
 massive heads of the oak and elm, by opposing 
 the prevailing lines of the building, give addi¬ 
 tional grace to it. Firs are decorative to planta¬ 
 tions, and useful as evergreens; they are beau¬ 
 tiful in masses *, but do not mix well with other 
 trees. When associated with them and viewed 
 at a distance, their form and colour disagree; 
 and if placed in the rear of plantations, should 
 they overtop them, they present a meagre, 
 fringe-like border to the bold waving line, and 
 in some seasons of the year disturb the sober 
 colouring of the greater mass by the obtrusive 
 brightness of their shoots. 
 
 Where a property is already wooded, al¬ 
 though insufficiently, the later growths may be 
 made to operate to great advantage in contrast 
 with the established features of the place: in 
 this instance, size, form, and colour, are in fa¬ 
 vour of it.— Popworth , 81, 82. 
 
 Trees , picturesque , 8fc. It is in the arrange¬ 
 ment and management of trees, that the great 
 
 * In this opinion, Mr. Papworth is at variance 
 with Gilpin, &c. 
 
WOOD. 
 
 41 
 
 art and improvement consists: earth is too cum¬ 
 brous and lumpish for man to contend much 
 with, and when worked upon, its effects are flat, 
 and dead like its nature. But trees detaching 
 themselves at once from the surface, and rising 
 boldly into the air, have a more lively and im¬ 
 mediate effect on the eye. They alone form a 
 canopy over us, and a varied frame to all other 
 objects; which they admit, exclude, and group 
 with, almost at the will of the improver. In 
 beauty, they not only far excel every thing of 
 inanimate nature, but their beauty is complete 
 and perfect in itself, while that of almost every 
 other object requires their assistance. Without 
 them, the most varied inequality of ground is 
 uninteresting: rocks, though their variety is of 
 a more striking kind, and often united with 
 grandeur, still want their accompaniment; and 
 although in the higher parts of mountains trees 
 are neither expected nor required, yet, if there 
 be none in any part of the view, a scene of mere 
 barrenness and desolation, however grand, soon 
 fatigues the eye. Water, in all its characters of 
 brooks, rivers, lakes, and waterfalls, appears 
 cold and naked without them. The sea alone 
 forms an exception, its sublimity absorbing all 
 
idea of lesser ornaments, and its perpetual mo¬ 
 tion giving it interest.—Price, i. 260. 
 
 The beauty of a tree depends much on breaks 
 and hollows, and its ability to catch masses of 
 light.— Gilpin's Forest Scenery , i. 52. 
 
 Roughness, mossiness, the characters of age, 
 and sudden variations in their forms (such as 
 are rugged old oaks, or knotty wych-elm), con¬ 
 stitute the picturesque in trees.— Price , i. 57. 
 
 There are trees, which may be beautiful, 
 though not, precisely speaking, picturesque. 
 Such trees are those whose proportions are 
 rather tall; whose stems have an easy sweep; 
 but which return again in such a manner that 
 the whole appears completely poised and ba¬ 
 lanced, and whose boughs are in some degree 
 pendent, but towards their extremities make a 
 gentle curve upwards; if to such a form we add 
 fresh and tender foliage and bark, we have 
 every quality assigned to beauty.— Id. i. 78. 
 
 No tree, if it be like a gooseberry bush, how¬ 
 ever luxuriant the foliage, is picturesque, because 
 all lumpishness is ugly, and it presents one uni¬ 
 form, unbroken mass of leaves.— Id. i. 263. 
 
 No vegetable productions of a regular form 
 are beautiful, though they may be curious or 
 singular,— Alison , ii. 65. 
 
WOOD. 
 
 4 3 
 
 The ugliest trees are those which are shape- 
 
 o 
 
 less from having been long pressed by others, 
 or from having been regularly and repeatedly 
 stripped of their boughs.— Alison , i. 296. 
 
 Deformed trees * Such are oaks, which wreathe 
 not into vigorous or fantastic branches; yews , 
 which grow into thin and varied forms; planes , 
 or horse-chesnuts , without a solid mass of foliage, 
 &c. which do not grow according to their nature. 
 
 —Id . ii, 28. 
 
 Dead trees . Without greatness of size, joined 
 to an air of grandeur and high antiquity, a dead 
 tree should seldom, if ever, be left; especially in 
 a conspicuous place; to entitle it to such a sta¬ 
 tion, it should be majestic even in ruin.— Id. 
 i. 234. 
 
 Single trees. Gilpin is of opinion that the 
 fir should be planted as a single ornamental 
 tree, because the pyramidals, from not forming a 
 flowing outline, like the round heads, are not fit 
 for masses. 
 
 Detached trees should be planted at unequal 
 distances.— Carlisle , 80. 
 
 Insulated trees should be so disposed as to 
 leave spaces, decidedly differing in quantity, be¬ 
 tween them.— Id. 80. 
 
44 
 
 PICTURESftUE SCENERY. 
 
 Single trees are useful to break an uniform 
 view from a house.— Id. 
 
 Trees are not to be dotted profusely upon 
 lawns.— Repton , 100. 
 
 Beeches, as single trees, are heavy, and olfend 
 the eye.— Gilpin’s Wye, 2. 
 
 Few trees have those characters of beauty 
 which will enable them to appear with advantage 
 as individuals.— Gilpin’s Wye, 3. 
 
 Young single trees. There is for many years 
 a poveity in the appearance of young single 
 trees, which will discourage improvers from 
 planting them, although they may clearly foresee 
 die future effect of each plant. This poverty 
 may be remedied by making dug clumps in most 
 of the places fixed upon for single trees, and by 
 mixing shrubs with them. This produces an 
 immediate mass. I he temporary digging and 
 the shelter promote the growth of the trees, in¬ 
 tended to produce the effect. By degrees, the 
 shrubs may be removed entirely, or some be left 
 to group with them, as may best suit the situa¬ 
 tion ; and as they get up, the boughs may be 
 opened and trained so as to admit or exclude 
 what is beyond them, just as the planter thinks 
 best— Carlisle, 85. 
 
ROCK. 
 
 45 
 
 Blossoming trees. Flowers and blossoms, 
 from their too distinct and splendid appearance, 
 are apt to produce a glare and spottiness de¬ 
 structive of that union which is the very essence 
 of a picture, whether in nature or in imitation. 
 White blossoms are, in one very natural re¬ 
 spect, more unfavourable to landscape than ny 
 others; as white, by bringing objects too near 
 the eye, disturbs the aerial perspective, and the 
 gradation of distance.— Price , i. 195. 
 
 The blossoms of some trees present a feature 
 of colour, which should be carefully applied: 
 they admirably embellish the near grounds and 
 home plantations by their gaiety and brilliancy ; 
 but on those accounts they are not suitable to 
 the general scenery, because they either produce 
 a spotty appearance, or otherwise disturb the 
 general harmony and park-like character. In 
 low growths, however, if sparingly brought for¬ 
 ward from the masses of trees which they con¬ 
 trast, they are certainly decorative and inoffen¬ 
 sive.— Papworth , 77. 
 
 See Water, § IV. and Church Yards, 
 Cottages, Orchard, in the alphabetical series. 
 
i s (I 
 
 The rock, as all other objects, though more 
 than all, receives its chief beauty from contrast. 
 Some objects are beautiful in themselves; but 
 the rock, bleak, naked, and unadorned, seems 
 scarcely to deserve a place among them. 1 int 
 it with mosses and lychens of various hues, and 
 you give it a degree of beauty. Adorn it with 
 shrubs and hanging herbage, and you make it 
 still more picturesque. Connect it with wood, 
 and water, and broken ground, and you make 
 it in the highest degree interesting. Its colour 
 and its form are so accommodating, that it 
 generally blends into one of the most beautiful 
 appendages of landscape. Different kinds of 
 rocks have different degrees of beauty. Some 
 are simple and grand; rarely formal or fantastic: 
 sometimes they project in those beautiful square 
 masses, yet broken and shattered in every line, 
 which is characteristic of the most majestic spe¬ 
 cies of rocks: sometimes they slant obliquely 
 from the eye in shelving diagonal strata; and 
 sometimes they appear in large masses of smooth 
 stone, detached from each other and half buried 
 in the soil. Rocks of this last kind are the 
 
ROCK. 
 
 47 
 
 most lumpish, and the least picturesque. Gil¬ 
 pin on the Wye , 24, 25, small edit. 
 
 Massiveness is a most efficient cause of gran¬ 
 deur in rocks; but where the summit of such 
 massive rocks runs on a parallel line, and the 
 breaks and projections lower down are slightly 
 melted, the first impression is less strong, and 
 the eye soon becomes weary; for though a 
 natural wall, of such solidity and magnitude 
 must always be a grand object, it is still a wall. 
 —Pnce, ii. 207. 
 
 But where certain bold projections are de¬ 
 tached from the principal body of rock ; where 
 in some places they rise higher than the general 
 summit, and in others seem a powerful buttress 
 to the lower part, the eye is forcibly struck with 
 the grandeur of such detached masses, and oc¬ 
 cupied with the variety of their form, and of 
 their light and shadow. Such is the effect and 
 character of many of the ancient castles. Ibid. 
 
 Rocks with the lower parts varied in shape 
 and boldly relieved, but with a uniform line of 
 summit, lose the effect of their projections when 
 seen from afar, especially in a front view; for 
 the eye is occupied with the line of the summit: 
 but when approached so near, that the summit 
 is partially concealed and broken by the pro- 
 
48 PICTURESQUE SCENERY. 
 
 jecting parts below; then the whole becomes va¬ 
 ried, yet the masses are preserved.— Price , 208. 
 
 Rocks of slate and shivering stone, parted 
 into thin layers, however lofty, have no effect 
 but under the disguise of mist or twilight.— 
 Id. 209. 
 
 The effect of a fine rock is utterly destroyed 
 by clearing, levelling, and turfing the ground 
 around, because then it looks as if it had been 
 brought there.— Price, 184. Note. 
 
 ildness should accompany rock scenery; 
 even licentious irregularities of ground and 
 wood, and a fantastic conduct of streams.— 
 Wheatley , 98. 
 
 Rocks should be mixed and crowned with 
 wood.— Id. 95. 
 
 Some vegetation should always accompany 
 rocks in the precincts of a park, and even shrubs 
 or bushes, without trees, are a sufficiency of 
 wood; and the thickets may be extended by 
 creeping plants winding up the sides, and clus¬ 
 tering on the tops of rocks. A cavern, a cot¬ 
 tage in a recess, and a mill, if there be a stream, 
 are here good accompaniments.— Id. 96, 97. 
 
 Brushy underwood may hide unsightly heaps 
 of fragments and rubbish, and may cover ble¬ 
 mishes and bad shapes in rocks; but though this 
 
ROCK. 
 
 49 
 
 brushy underwood diversifies and embellishes 
 rocky scenery, yet the scene without large trees 
 is void of grandeur.— Id. 100, 101, 104. 
 
 Single trees, not clumps, should be the ac¬ 
 cessory ornaments of rocks.— Id, 101. 
 
 Trees rooted in a rock should always be 
 exhibited; and rocks in interesting positions 
 should be cleared of obscuring earth for the 
 same purpose; over the latter, impending trees 
 should be placed.— Wheatley , 107. 
 
 If rocks are only high, they are but stupen¬ 
 dous, not majestic; breadth is equally essential 
 to their greatness, and every slender, every gro¬ 
 tesque shape is excluded.— Id. 100. 
 
 Rocks may be magnified to the imagination 
 by taking away thickets which stretch quite 
 across them, or by filling the intervals between 
 them with wood.— Ibid. 
 
 When rocks descend down a declivity, we 
 can, by raising the upper ground, deepen the 
 fall, lengthen the perspective, and give both 
 height and extent to those at a distance; and the 
 effect will be still increased by covering the 
 upper ground with a thicket, which should cease 
 or be lowered as it descends.— Ibid. 
 
 A thicket makes rocks which rise out of it 
 look larger than they are; and if they stand on 
 
i! 
 
 a bank, they seem to start from the bottom.— 
 Wheatley. 
 
 Rails may be placed over perpendicular scarps, 
 and foot-bridges thrown over clefts to give ef¬ 
 fect.— Id. 108. 
 
 In grand and awful scenes, cultivation has too 
 cheerful an appearance. Objects too bright 
 should be darkened; and dark greens, as yews 
 and shabby firs, should be planted, if it is neces¬ 
 sarily thin. A withering, or a dead tree, should 
 be cleared around for exhibition of it.— Id. 110. 
 
 The only accompaniments proper for rock 
 scenery are wood and water. If two rocks are 
 alike, one may be skirted with wood, the other 
 left bare; for as sameness is too likely to attend 
 rock scenery, differences should be multiplied, 
 and even aggravated, and distinctions be in¬ 
 creased into contrasts.— Id. 115, 116. 
 
 Rocky projections add to the grandeur of 
 woody hills.— Gilpin's Wye , 89. 
 
 Precipices hanging over a river are awful, 
 tranquil, and majestic.— Id. 41. 
 
 A bridge flung across a chasm between rocks 
 is picturesque.— Alison , i. 43. 
 
 A cottage on a precipice is picturesque.— Id. 
 
 A rock, lofty, broad-fronted, tufted with pen¬ 
 dent foliage, and descending in oblique irregular 
 strata, is fine. 
 
 J 
 
WATER. 
 
 51 
 
 A castle crowning the brow of a naked rock 
 which overhangs the water; on the opposite side 
 a steep wood, and a river winding between, is a 
 magnificent scene.— Cilgarran Castle . 
 
 Rocks may want contrast; the side screens 
 may meet at a formal angle.— Tall of the Rhydol. 
 
 Romantic rocks in confusion, accompanied 
 with torrent streams, are grand introductions to 
 passes between mountains.— Parsons’ Bridge on 
 the Rhydoll. 
 
 The striated, basaltic appearance of rocks is 
 not unpleasing, if the lines are not marked too 
 regularly and strongly.— Cader Idris , Craig y 
 Werys . 
 
 Rocks should not be in horizontal strata, 
 resembling flights of stairs.— Cairi in Wales . 
 
 See Yale, Valley, for an exquisite specimen 
 of rock scenery. 
 
 IY. WATER. 
 
 Natural Rivers . Perfect river views are com¬ 
 posed of four grand parts: the area , which is 
 the river itself; the two side screens , which are 
 the opposite banks, and lead the perspective; 
 and the front screen , which points out the winding 
 of the river. 
 
 d 2 
 
52 PICTURESQ.UE SCENERY. 
 
 Area . A river, to have grandeur, must be 
 large, and have ample sweeps, or long reaches; 
 otherwise it is a mere pool, or only a winding 
 surface of smooth water. If the river be small, 
 it must be agitated; should pour over shelving 
 rocks, and form eddies and cascades; but in 
 these rapid rivers you lose the opportunity of 
 contemplating the grandeur of the banks from 
 the surface of the water.— Gilpin on the Wye , 
 72, 73. 
 
 The side screens , between parallel banks, only 
 lengthen to a point. Variety is effected by the 
 contrast of the screens: sometimes one of the 
 side screens is elevated; sometimes the other; 
 and sometimes the front, or both the side screens 
 may be lofty; and the front either high or low. 
 Again, they are varied by the folding of the side 
 screens over each other , and hiding more or less 
 of the front. When none of the front is disco¬ 
 vered, the folding side either winds round like 
 an amphitheatre, or becomes a long reach of 
 perspective. Complex variations may also en¬ 
 sue. One of the sides may be compounded of 
 various parts, while the other remains simple; 
 or the front alone may be compoimded.— Id. 
 19, 20. 
 
 Trees on the edge of the water, clumped here 
 
WATER. 
 
 53 
 
 and there, diversify hills, as the eye passes them, 
 and remove that heaviness which always, m some 
 degree, arises from continuity of ground. They 
 also give a degree of distance to the more re¬ 
 moved parts .—Gilpin on the 11 ye, 23, 24. 
 
 A river, of which the stream is buried between 
 two high banks, is dismal.— Wheatley , 62. 
 
 A sluggard, silent stream, creeping heavily 
 along altogether, has a gloom which no art can 
 dissipate, no sunshine disperse. Ibid. 
 
 A river should be lost in a wood, oi retiie 
 behind a hill.— Id. 63. 
 
 Rivers should not be formed into pools by 
 making both the banks concave, unless it be to 
 make room for an island.— Id. 64. 
 
 No recesses should be allowed in rivers ; but 
 in lakes they are beauties.— Id. 65. 
 
 No figure perfectly regular ought ever to be 
 admitted in the outline of a river.— Id. 69. 
 
 Too frequent and sudden turns divide a 
 river into separate pools; long reaches, but not 
 straight (for that makes the river like a canal), 
 conduce much to beauty; for each reach is a 
 considerable piece of water, and a variety ol 
 beautiful forms may be given to their outlines. 
 —Id. 71. 
 
 The curvatures of rivers ought to be small,— 
 
 Id. 71. 
 
54 ) PICTURESaUE SCENERY. 
 
 All turns should generally be larger than a 
 right single.—Wheatley, 72. 
 
 Banks of rivers, consisting of a great variety 
 of wooded recesses, hills, sides of mountains, and 
 contracted vallies thwarting and opposing each 
 other in various forms, and adorned with little 
 s runnm & every where among them in 
 guttered chasms, are grand and beautiful.— 
 Gilpin . 
 
 On the opposite banks of rivers , a similarity of 
 style should constantly be observed in the plan¬ 
 tations, that the identity of the wood may never 
 be doubtful.— Gilpin, 82. 
 
 Rivers between woods should wind more than 
 in crossing lawns : but between trees and thickets 
 should wind gently. When they wind through 
 woods, they are never to be seen in prospect; for 
 a continued opening, large enough to receive a 
 long reach, wxmld seem an artificial cut.— Id. 
 83, 86. 
 
 Mr. Price s observations on rivers, in contrast 
 with artificial pieces of water, are these: 
 
 In the turns of a beautiful river, the lines are 
 so varied with projecting coves and inlets, with 
 smooth and broken ground; with Some parts 
 open, and with others fringed and overhung with 
 
WATER. 
 
 55 
 
 U-ees and bushes, with peeping rocks, large mossy 
 stones, and all their soft and brilliant reflections, 
 that the eye lingers upon them. The two banks 
 seem, as it were, to protract their meeting, and 
 to perform their junction insensibly, they so 
 blend and unite with each other. But the mo¬ 
 dern pieces of water are very tame, like flood- 
 water or inundations.— Price, i. 299, 300. 
 
 Artificial pieces of water are not like natural; 
 because they have no banks.— Id. 304. 
 
 The courses of natural rivers, however they 
 may approach to regular curves, never fall into 
 them.— Gilpin , 312. 
 
 A mere naked sheet of water has a cold white 
 glare. Mr. Price humourously says it may be 
 made of linen, for nothing can be more like 
 than a sheet of water and a real sheet.— Id. i. 
 315—317. 
 
 The most uninteresting parts of any river are 
 those of which the immediate banks are flat, 
 green, naked, and of equal height. I have said un¬ 
 interesting, for they are merely insipid, not ugly; 
 but should the same kind of banks be fringed 
 with flourishing trees and underwood, there is 
 not a person who will not be much pleased at 
 looking down such a reach, and seeing such a 
 fringe reflected in the clear mirror. If a little 
 
u 
 
 56 
 
 PICTURESftUE SCENERY. 
 
 further on, instead of this pleasing, but uniform 
 fringe, the immediate banks were higher in some 
 places, and suddenly projecting; if on some of 
 t lese projections, groups of trees stood on the 
 grass only; i n others, a mixture of them with 
 fern and underwood, and between them the turf- 
 alone came down almost to the water’s edge* 
 
 let ln the Vlew towards the most distant ob¬ 
 jects, any spectator who observed at all must be 
 struck with the difference between one rich, but 
 uniform fringe, and the succession and opposi- 
 
 K)U ° and low , of rough and smooth, of 
 enrichment and simplicity. A little further on, 
 other circumstances of diversity might occur, 
 n some parts of the bank, large trunks and 
 roots of trees might form coves over the water, 
 while the broken soil might appear amidst them’ 
 and the overhanging foliage, add to the fresh 
 green the warm and mellow tints of a rich ochre, 
 or a bright yellow. A low ledge of rocks might 
 likewise shew itself a little above the surface, but 
 be so shaded by projecting boughs as to have its 
 form and colour darkly reflected. At other 
 times, these recesses might be open to the sun, 
 and in place of wood, a mixture of heath and 
 furze, with their purple and yellow flowers, 
 might crown the top; between them, wild roses, 
 
WATER. 
 
 W 
 
 honeysuckles, periwinkles, and other trailing 
 *i plants might hang down the sides towards the 
 
 water, in which all these brilliant colours and 
 varied forms would be fully reflected.— Price, 
 
 'W ii. 86—38. 
 
 Ip The banks of rivers should be varied, otliei- 
 
 :i wise they are dull and monotonous Id. ii. 45. 
 
 ill The charm of a simple view on a river consists 
 
 la in having a few objects happily placed. A 
 
 ® small group of trees, a single tree, w'ith no other 
 
 ,« back ground than the sky, or a bare hill, a mere 
 
 *, bush, a tussock, may happen to give that cha- 
 
 n racter; and any addition, any diminution, might 
 
 f injure or destroy quel tantino che fa tutto. Id. 
 
 , ii. 47. 
 
 Varieties and breaks in the banks, rocks, 
 stones, trunks and roots of trees, blended with 
 the smooth and undulating, are the natural 
 embellishments of the banks of rivers.— Id. 60. 
 
 The romantic style admits the lake and the 
 river, the ravine and the cataract, with all the 
 wild abruptness of which water is capable. T he 
 rural and the pastoral compose the lake, the 
 meer, the pool, the river, and all the lesser 
 and milder operations of the stream. V lien 
 the grounds are sufficiently extensive, it is very 
 desirable to enlist portions of both the river 
 d 5 
 
u 
 
 58 PiCTUREsauE Scenery. 
 
 and the lake into the landscape, commencing 
 at the point of juncture as exhibited in nature. 
 The variety of scene consequent on this pro¬ 
 ceeding would be very pleasing, and obviate the 
 objectionable repetition of river forms in the 
 several views about the property.— Paprvorth, 62. 
 
 In laying out ground for the river, particular 
 regard should be had to the point from which it 
 will be chiefly viewed, as from the house or 
 lawn, so that it may obtain variety of form 
 and incident, and display the greatest possible 
 breadth, contrasted with the narrowness conse¬ 
 quent on the perspective. For if we look up 
 the serpentine course of a river, the margins of 
 which are parallel, the perspective occasions the 
 sides to contract as the eye ascends, wherefore, 
 if the river be widened as it becomes more dis¬ 
 tant, the effect will be increased, and the water 
 appear of greater magnitude.— Papworth, 62. 
 
 The embellishment of water depends upon 
 circumstances. If the banks are steep, and the 
 water narrow, an ill effect is produced, because 
 the height of the banks is exaggerated, and the 
 width of the water seemingly diminished. If 
 the water is wide, as in lakes, then the steepness 
 of its banks, and the overhanging foliages of it s 
 margin, acquire added dignity and multiplied 
 
WATER. 
 
 59 
 
 effect. The management of the varieties of the 
 margin of ornamental water, is of great conse¬ 
 quence. When it is viewed transversely, or 
 over narrow portions of it, the ground should 
 slope to the water’s edge, or the banks will inter¬ 
 cept its surface, and perhaps hide it wholly: on 
 the other hand, when water is viewed upward m 
 its length, steep and broken banks add the ad¬ 
 vantages of form and colour to the variety which 
 it produces, and give force and vigour to the 
 scene.— Papworth , 66. 
 
 When the valley is not of sufficient extent to 
 allow the introduction of the lake, the river may 
 be much improved by separating its course into 
 branches, thus forming small islands, or aits, 
 which, when planted according to their lorms 
 and characters, will become admirable embellish¬ 
 ments.— Id. 67. 
 
 Artificial Rivers. Here there should be 
 a profusion of ornament. Every species of 
 building, and every style of plantation, may 
 abound on the banks.— Wheatley , 77. 
 
 In the attempt to make factitious rivers, the 
 supply of water must be ample; for half-empty 
 pools, lakes, or canals, especially in dry seasons 
 (when the coolness and beauty of water is most 
 inviting and desired), are disgusting, and infect 
 
OU PICTURESQUE SCENERV, 
 
 the air with offensive vapours. But when the 
 supply is abundant at all times, then water be- 
 comes a striking and interesting material in the 
 hands of the improver. The brilliancy of sheets 
 of water gives lustre to the most dull and insipid 
 portions of a landscape; and it is the chief 
 means by which the artist produces those vivid 
 and fascinating reliefs in the grounds, which by 
 white or redness of colour, the painter exhibits 
 in his picture. The deep tones of shade, essen¬ 
 tial to vigour and striking effect, are also aug¬ 
 mented by water, in the reflections of oversha¬ 
 dowing objects, whilst its occasional rippling 
 movements create partial and brilliant touches 
 of light that begem its surface— Papicorth, 56. 
 
 A beautiful piece of water, particularly if it 
 be seated in a well-cloathed, sequestered, and 
 tranquil spot, engages the mind, and fills it with 
 pleasing sentiments.— Id. 57. 
 
 With regard to the situation of water in land¬ 
 scape improvements, it is scarcely necessary to 
 observe, that the practices of nature in her 
 happiest works should be followed, and therefore 
 t hat the valley is the properest site for it; for 
 when situated on high ground, or on rapidly 
 me ined planes particularly, the operations of 
 art, in some points of view, will be manifest, 
 
WATER. 
 
 61 
 
 unless the effect be discreetly hid by such well- 
 arranged plantations as will conceal the embank¬ 
 ments, arrest the view of the slope, and produce 
 the appearance of a valley .—Papworth, 58. 
 
 It sometimes happens, that the natural slope 
 of ground will not permit so large a piece oi 
 water as may be desired, unless it is made to 
 occupy two or more levels; at such points, a 
 low bridge erected over its fall will conceal the 
 irregularity.— Id. 59. See Bridges, posted. 
 
 In the formation of water, bolder curves than 
 what are used in land maybe employed; but 
 no terminating bound of water must be seen.— 
 Mason’s English Garden. 
 
 The water should be placed to the southward 
 of the mansion, not only on account of coolness 
 and effect, but from its brilliancy being thus 
 augmented.— Carlisle , 103. 
 
 [Made water is, however, in general, so formal 
 and insipid, that art fails more here than in any 
 other part of landscape-making. The fact is, 
 that nature, except in mountainous countries, 
 does not well show off small bodies of water, 
 because she withdraws the accompaniments. 
 The best plan is to run the stream through the 
 wood, sometimes on both banks, sometimes on 
 one only, and then on plain, and then back to 
 wood, and a hill, &c.— 1 .] 
 
p- 
 
 i I 
 
 n 
 
 m 
 
 it 
 
 Mr! 
 
 PICTURES&UE SCENERY. 
 
 An artificial pool, or lake, may be made ex- 
 actly to imitate a natural or accidental one; and 
 if it be diversified with broken and uneven banks, 
 bays, and promontories, according to Mr. Price’s 
 directions, it may form one of the most beautiful 
 features in the composition of a landscape. But 
 this has never satisfied improvers: their ambi¬ 
 tion has always been to make artificial rivers, 
 and thus to imitate that which is, in reality, 
 inimitable; for without running water, the river 
 can be but a mere canal. Even if the curling, 
 rippling, and foaming of the water, which con¬ 
 stitute the principal beauties of natural rivers, 
 could be dispensed with, no contrivance of art, 
 no exertion of labour, can ever mould the banks 
 into that endless variety of picturesque forms, 
 into which they are hollowed and broken by the 
 various eddies and falls of a running stream. 
 An artificial river, therefore, even if it could be 
 made beautiful to the eye, will always be an 
 impostor, whose false pretensions will offend the 
 mind. A natural brook, on the contrary, be it 
 ever so small, may be extremely beautiful in a 
 confined situation; and where the ground ad¬ 
 mits of its expansion, it may be made to issue 
 from, or terminate in, a lake or pool, with ex- 
 
 
WATER. 
 
 63 
 
 tremely happy effect; but if ever an attempt is 
 made to turn it into a river by widening it and 
 damming it up, it is utterly ruined.— Knight , 
 on Taste , p. 230. 
 
 Made rivers have an incorrigible dullness.— 
 Price , ii. 41. 
 
 Many of the choice American plants of low 
 growth, and which love shade, such as kadmeas 
 and rhododendrons, by having the mould they 
 most delight in placed to the north, on that sort 
 of shelf which is often seen between a lower and 
 an upper ledge of rocks, would be as likely to 
 flourish as in a garden : and it may here be re¬ 
 marked, that when plants are placed in new si¬ 
 tuations, with new accompaniments, half hanging 
 over one mass of stone, and backed by another, 
 or by a mixture of rock, soil, and wild vegeta¬ 
 tion, they assume so new a character, such a 
 novelty and brilliancy in their appearance, as 
 can hardly be conceived by those who only see 
 them in a shrubbery, or a botanical garden. In 
 short, we have but little idea of the effects of 
 many flow r ering and beautiful shrubs, when 
 loosely hanging over rocks and stones, or over 
 the dark coves which might be made among 
 them. These effects of a more dressed and 
 minute kind, might be tried with great conve- 
 
64 PICTURESQ.UE SCENERY. 
 
 nience and propriety in those parts of artificial 
 pieces of water which are often inclosed for the 
 pasture grounds, and dedicated solely to shrubs 
 and verdure; while other circumstances of a 
 ruder nature, and not so liable to be injured, 
 might with equal propriety be placed in less 
 polished scenes; and by such methods, a varied 
 succession of pictures might be formed on the 
 banks of made water. Some of soft turf, and a 
 few simple objects; others full of enrichment 
 and intricacy; others partaking of both those 
 characters, yet while monotony was avoided in 
 the simple parts, general breadth and harmony 
 might no less be preserved in those which were 
 most enriched, for they are preserved in the 
 most striking parts of natural rivers, which are 
 often so full of richness, intricacy, and variety, 
 that art must despair to rival them.— Price , ii. 
 43 — 45 . 
 
 By sacrificing the effect of water to the surface 
 of grass, the character of a meadow or lawn is 
 destroyed, yet that of a lake or river is not ob¬ 
 tained ; for nothing can more completely sepa- 
 late and disunite the two parts of a meadow, 
 than a naked, glaring piece of water; and no¬ 
 thing can be less like a beautiful river or lake, 
 than such a pretended imitation.— Id. 50. 
 
WATER. 
 
 65 
 
 Water on flat ground, may be improved by 
 means of wood in the forest fashion on the banks 
 of it, for water so backed would not need a con¬ 
 tinued fringe for the purpose of concealing what 
 was behind.— Price, ii. 64, 65. 
 
 Lakes. These are preferred, where there is 
 room in the valley to make them. 
 
 Lakes should have at no great distance a 
 reach of shore, a promontory, or an island.— 
 Wheatley, 67. 
 
 Lakes of ample dimensions should not have 
 low shores, or a flat country beyond them.— 
 Id. 68. 
 
 If the lake be too small, a low shore will, in 
 appearance, increase the extent.— Ibid. 
 
 A hill or a wood may conceal the extremities. 
 —Id. 69. 
 
 Recesses, not to be allowed in rivers, are 
 beauties in lakes.— Id. 66. 
 
 No figure perfectly regular ought ever to be 
 admitted in the formation of lakes, because it 
 always seems artificial.— Id. 69. 
 
 Lakes, as admitting bays and inlets, are better 
 subjects of imitation than rivers, because the 
 latter must be confined to one or two reaches, 
 and then it must stop.— Price, ii. 76, 77. 
 
66 
 
 PICTURESQUE SCENERY. 
 
 Lakes should be so placed with regard to the 
 house, that spectators from thence should look 
 across, not along their course; for thus their 
 magnitude will, in appearance, be greatly in¬ 
 creased.— Papworth , 62. 
 
 Lakes should be viewed early in the morning, 
 and after sunset, on account of the reflections 
 from the surface, which are then very beautiful. 
 — Newell's Wales , 166. 
 
 Islands may be large and high above lakes; 
 the ground may be irregularly broken, and 
 thickets hang on the sides .—Wheatley, 85. 
 
 Clusters of islands may have a good effect.— 
 Id. 82. 
 
 Islands in lakes should be accompanied by a 
 succession of small points of land, which project 
 a little way into the water.— Id. 87. 
 
 Islands, though the channels between them 
 are narrow, do not derogate from greatness, 
 because they intimate a space beyond, and re¬ 
 move to a distance the shore which is seen in 
 perspective behind them.— Id. 70. 
 
 Heads of artificial water may be formed by 
 islands. A break, or a disguise of some kind, 
 is necessary to the head of water; but as it is 
 likewise the place where the water is commonly 
 
WATER. 
 
 67 
 
 the deepest, neither a projection from the land, 
 nor an island, can easily be made thereabouts. 
 There are generally, however, some shallow 
 parts at a sufficient distance from one of the 
 sides, and not at too great a distance from the 
 head, where one or more islands may easily be 
 formed so as to conceal no inconsiderable part 
 of the line of the head from many points. In 
 such places, and for such purposes, islands are 
 particularly proper. A large projection from 
 the side of the real bank might too much break 
 the general line, but by this method, that line 
 would be preserved, and the proposed effect be 
 equally preserved.— Price , ii. 88. 
 
 It is not necessary that islands should strictly 
 correspond with the shores, either in height 01 
 shape; for there are frequent instances in nature, 
 where islands rise high and abruptly from the 
 water, though the shore be low and sloping; 
 and this liberty of giving height to islands may 
 be made use of with particular propriety and 
 effect towards the head, which usually presents a 
 flat, thin line, but little disguised or varied by the 
 usual style of planting. An island, therefore (or 
 islands), in the situation proposed, with banks 
 higher than those of the head, abrupt in parts, 
 with trees projecting sideways over the water, by 
 
boldly advancing itself to the eye, by throwing 
 back the land of the head, and showing only part 
 of it, would form an apparent termination of a 
 perfectly new character, and so disguise the real 
 one, that no one could tell, when viewing it 
 from the many points, whence such island would 
 have its effect; which was the head, or pro¬ 
 bable ending.— Price, ii. 89 . 
 
 A laige, uniform extent of water requires to 
 be broken and diversified, like lawns; but 
 islands, if circular, resemble clumps, and are 
 bad.— Id. ii. 91 . 
 
 In making islands, no regular figure should 
 be observed, and the ground thrown up should 
 be suffered to sink into swells and hollows. The 
 trees planted (never firs) should be those in¬ 
 clined to throw out lateral shoots, especially the 
 plain and wych-elm, whose form of boughs is 
 peculiarly beautiful when hanging over w r ater. 
 To force the lateral growth, poplars may be 
 planted behind them. In any part, where the 
 trees were wished to project considerably over 
 the w r ater, the bank may be raised higher than 
 the rest of the ground, even to abruptness, and 
 may be rendered picturesque, and prevented 
 from breaking down by stones and roots. In 
 islands, it is not necessary to plant more trees 
 
 i ff 
 
 1 Pfe 1 
 
WATER. 
 
 69 
 
 than is absolutely necessary, the low growths 
 being better raised from seeds and berries. 
 Price , ii. 90—93. 
 
 Islands , like lakes, should be viewed across 
 from the house.— Papworth , 62. 
 
 Pools ; Ponds. All pieces of water, square, 
 round, or of any geometrical form, are very bad, 
 
 « because they produce no intelligible change, 
 though viewed at various places.”— Id. 63. 
 
 In forests and woody commons, where the 
 ground is bold and unequal, it often happens 
 that a high, broken bank, enriched with wild 
 vegetation, sometimes with a single tree upon it, 
 sometimes with a group of them, hangs over a 
 small pond. From the fondness of representing 
 such scenes, shown by the Dutch, Flemish, and 
 Italian painters, Mr. Price recommends thus 
 using small hollows, which can be supplied with 
 water, because such pools give consequence to 
 surrounding objects; reflect large masses of sha¬ 
 dow ; revive the tints of vegetation, broken soil, 
 and sky; and give surprising richness and har¬ 
 mony to every thing within the field of vision. 
 — Price , ii. 84, 82. 
 
 [The following are modes, by which ponds 
 may be improved according to nature: 
 
70 PICTURESaUE SCENERY. 
 
 A spring may be immerged in wood, and be 
 surrounded by a margin of grass, as in Ovid: 
 
 Fons erat lllimis, nitidis argenteus undis, 
 Gramen erat circa-_ 
 
 Sylvaque solelacum passura tepescere nulio. 
 
 Metam. L . iii. 
 
 Or it is still better, if it issues from a rock or 
 cavern, overhung with wood, and be surrounded 
 with an amphitheatre of wood, open at a good 
 
 Sylva vetus stabat, null* violata securi,- 
 Est specus in medio, virgis acvimine densus, 
 ciens humilem lapidum compagibus arcum 
 ubenbus fcecundus aquis-_ 
 
 Id % L. iii. 
 
 A common pond may be made to imitate part 
 of a river, by cutting a new bed for it in the 
 form of the letter co (a swan’s neck is a better 
 curve) laid horizontally, elongating it according 
 to circumstances, opposing the long side to the 
 view from the house, and hiding the curved 
 extremities in wood: or the commencement 
 may e hid by a bank or ridge at one end, 
 
WATER. 
 
 71 
 
 between the pond and the eye; while the ex¬ 
 tremity winds round another bank, also planted. 
 
 These remarks are essential, because ponds, 
 which may be made picturesque at a trifling 
 expence, are sadly neglected.— F.~\ 
 
 Waterfalls. Several little falls in succes¬ 
 sion are preferable to one great cascade, because 
 there is in a single sheet of water, a formality 
 which nothing but height and vastness can re¬ 
 medy ; but the beginning should always be con¬ 
 cealed, either by wood, or sometimes by a low 
 broad bridge.— Wheatley , 91, 92, 93. 
 
 Rocks are exquisite additions to waterfalls. 
 
 Dolmelynlyn Fall (engraved by Mr. Newell, 
 Scenery of Wales , p . 129) is a perfect picture 
 of romantic beauty, and in variety and decora¬ 
 tions perhaps unrivalled. Mr. Newell thus 
 describes it: “ The variety of water in this 
 scene is admirable. Here are four falls, and 
 all different: two principal ones, of which the 
 higher and more distant is divided by a rock 
 into two sheets, and rather less inclined than 
 the lower; two smaller differing from them, 
 and from one another; the first broken into 
 numerous arched cascades; the second indented 
 by opposite currents. These are connected and 
 contrasted with a smooth horizontal sheet, and 
 
72 picturesq.uk scenery. 
 
 again with the flashing torrent below. This 
 variety is still further increased by the changeful 
 direction of the water: first, from right to left; 
 next, from left to right; then in both directions; 
 and lastly, from right to left again. The ac¬ 
 companiments are equally various and happily 
 disposed. The more distant rocks on one side, 
 are headed with spreading trees, on the other 
 variegated with shrubs and hanging wood: the 
 nearer steep partially clothed and topped with a 
 stunted oak, and opposed to an almost perpen¬ 
 dicular rock on ^he right. All these are again 
 blended, or contrasted in form and colour, with¬ 
 out an offensive tint or line.” 
 
 Rivulets; Brooks; and Rills. Rivulets 
 may have more frequent bends than a river; a 
 rill should be full of short turns.— Wheatley, 89. 
 
 A brook seems to be that kind of water which 
 most perfectly accords with die scale and cha¬ 
 racter of a village. —Price , ii. 363. 
 
 A narrow, shallow brook in assimilation of 
 nature over a gravelly bottom, is an object of 
 beauty, and worthy of imitation.— Carlisle, 104 . 
 
 Close copses and sequestered vallies are pre¬ 
 ferable to any open exposure for a rill, because 
 then it becomes a mere water-course.— Wheatley , 
 89. 
 
WATER. 
 
 73 
 
 A rill lias many pleasing features among 
 rocks and declivities.— Wheatley , 90—93. See 
 Vale, Valley. 
 
 Aquatic Trees. Because nature is not pro¬ 
 lific of the nobler trees in the neighbourhood of 
 water, she has added to her store such as are 
 particularly suited to its decoration ; and in the 
 aquatic plants will be found the means of adding 
 still more extensive variety than at first appears 
 to the scenery of the grounds. This difference 
 in colour and character may be so arranged as 
 to be highly ornamental, and favourably con¬ 
 trast the valley with the hill.— Carlisle , 103. 
 
 Bridges. If the end of a river can be turned 
 out of sight, a bridge at some distance raises a 
 belief of the continuation of the water.— Wheat- 
 ley, 73. 
 
 Rustic foot-bridges are good when the eleva¬ 
 tion of the banks preserves them from meanness. 
 — Id. 74. 
 
 In wild and romantic scenes, ruined stone 
 bridges, with a few arches, and the rest planks 
 and rails, are highly picturesque.— Id. 75. 
 
 Stone bridges should not be too high; for 
 unless the situation make such a height neces¬ 
 sary, or the point of view be greatly above it; 
 or wood, or rising ground, instead of sky, behind 
 
74 PICTURESGIUE SCENERY. 
 
 it, fill up the vacancy of the arch; it seems an 
 effect without a cause, forced and preposterous. 
 — Wheatley , 74. 
 
 In some situations, two or three bridges may 
 be admitted into one scene, for a collateral 
 stream, or windings of the same, may furnish 
 opportunities for both. One, however, must 
 show the passage over it to the eye; the other, 
 that under it. A bridge which, by means of a 
 bend in the river, is backed with wood, or rising 
 grounds, has in the effect little similarity to one 
 which only shows water and sky; and if the ac¬ 
 cident which distinguishes it immediately groups 
 with the bridge; if, for instance, a tree, or a 
 little cluster of trees, stand so that the stems 
 appear beneath, the heads above the arches, 
 the whole is but one picturesque object, which 
 but distantly resembles a bridge quite simple 
 and unaccompanied_ Id. 77. 
 
 Where pieces of water through the ground 
 sloping, require two or more levels, a low bridge 
 over the fall will conceal the irregularity.— Pap- 
 worth , 59. 
 
 W here the banks of a stream are precipitous, 
 a bridge and temple united would be an agree¬ 
 able feature, and accordingly, as the stream 
 javourably deviated from a straight line, the 
 
WATER. 7 5 
 
 view from the temple would be varied and in¬ 
 teresting.— Papworth , 64. 
 
 Where water intersects a park in such a way 
 as to render a bridge across it necessary in the 
 line of approach, it is better to have a centre 
 arch, and two side ones; because, without the 
 side arches, the bridge would divide the grounds 
 on both banks; but with three arches, a free 
 communication would be obtained, and the 
 w r alks along the margins be preserved entire. 
 A bridge of this description should be placed so 
 near the mansion as to combine with its general 
 design, and appear to be an essential part of 
 the whole, in which case it would greatly add to 
 its seeming magnitude and consequence, and 
 lose its liability to the objection raised to many 
 bridges standing in the middle of a park, on 
 account of their unsupported and solitary ap¬ 
 pearances.— Id. 65. 
 
 The most tasteful characteristic of stone 
 bridges is lightness.— Price , ii. 277. 
 
 Flat and rude stone bridges over brooks ad¬ 
 mirably suit village scenery.— Id. ii. 271. 
 
 Bridges should have n*> projections or orna¬ 
 ments, which break the continuity of the outline, 
 and destroy the effect of the arcade. Columns, 
 too, are not appropriate.— Id. ii. 279—280. 
 e 2 
 
282. 
 
 Bridges of straight timbers, supported by 
 massive stone piers, have sometimes a good 
 effect by showing the grandeur of massiness and 
 straight lines, and their powerful effect in a 
 fore-ground of throwing off the distance.— Id. 
 ii. 285, 286. 
 
 Mr. Rep ton prefers for several places a J in¬ 
 duct (undefinable by description) to a bridge.— 
 
 p. 111. 
 
 SUBJECTS OF SCENERY 
 
 IN ALPHABETICAL ARRANGEMENT. 
 
 Approaches. This term is applied to the 
 road which leads through the park or lawn to 
 the house. 
 
 Mr. Repton thus enumerates the requisites to 
 a good approach. 1. It ought to be a road to 
 the house. 2. If it is not naturally the nearest 
 road possible, it ought artificially to be made 
 impossible to go a nearer. 3. The artificial 
 obstacles which make this road the nearest ought 
 
77 
 
 SUBJECTS OF SCENERY. 
 
 to appear natural. 4. Where an approach quits 
 the high road, it ought not to break from it at 
 right angles, or in such a manner as robs the 
 entrance of importance, but rather at some head 
 of the public road, from whence a lodge or gate 
 may be more conspicuous, and where the high 
 road may appear to branch from the approach, 
 rather than the approach from the high roach 
 5. After the approach enters the park, it should 
 avoid skirting along its boundary, because that 
 demonstrates limitation. 6. The house, unless 
 very large and magnificent, should not be seen 
 at so great a distance as to make it appear much 
 less than it really is. 7. The first view of the 
 house should be from the most pleasing point of 
 view. 8. As soon as the house is visible from 
 the approach, there should be no temptation to 
 quit it (which will ever be the case if the road 
 be at all circuitous), unless sufficient obstacles, 
 such as water, or inaccessible ground, appear to 
 justify its course.— Repton , 108, 109. 
 
 The shortest road (says Mr. Papworth) may 
 not be the best line to adopt, because superior 
 benefits may result from a different course. 
 The entrance should be so conspicuously placed, 
 that the visitor shall not seem to pass the house 
 before he obtains a sight of the lodge or gates ; 
 
78 PICTURESQUE SCENERY. 
 
 nor should he, from any other circumstances, be 
 in doubt that he has missed his way ; and as it is 
 desirable that the grounds should escape the 
 appearance of too great limitation, it is advanta¬ 
 geous that the road should exhibit so much of 
 its line as will assure the visitor that the grounds 
 are of an extent proportionate to the building, 
 of which he has had already a distant view, and 
 which should not be visible from the gates, 
 because it would at once define the distance, 
 moi e usefully left to be discovered- in future; 
 and here the form of ground or plantation should 
 screen the landscape, that it may not be over¬ 
 looked. 
 
 In its progress towards the house, the road 
 should not skirt the boundary, because by doing 
 so it demonstrates limitation; and it ought not 
 to divide the pasture into similar quantities, but 
 pass so near the one side as to escape the first 
 error, giving to the greater portion all the be¬ 
 nefit of contrast. The road should be judi¬ 
 ciously supported by occasional plantations, to 
 prevent the nakedness which is otherwise offen¬ 
 sive; and its line should be curved, because the 
 most pleasing, as it produces greater variety of 
 scene than a straight one as it is traversed; 
 and if the ground be rising, it is also the most 
 natural. 
 
SUBJECTS OF SCENERY. 79 
 
 The house having been already viewed, it 
 should be concealed as near approached, until, 
 arrived at the most favourable point, it may 
 be commanded under all the imposing circum¬ 
 stances of its perspective: here it should burst 
 at once upon the sight, and if from amidst a 
 well-grown plantation, whose shadows, as a foi e- 
 ground, would give greater brilliancy to the sun¬ 
 shine upon its surface, the effect would be addi¬ 
 tionally striking. 
 
 This road, for a certain distance, will lead 
 toward both house and offices; but as the stable 
 or farm-yard should be at some distance in the 
 rear, at a convenient point a second road should 
 branch off to them, less in width, and sn differing 
 from the sweep of the main road, that its pui- 
 pose shall be unquestionable; and this should 
 be sufficiently distant from the house to prevent 
 the gravel in its vicinity being disturbed by the 
 traffic to the offices.— Papworth, 85, 86. 
 
 Strong contrasts are not always favourable, 
 generally the reverse; and certainly, in some 
 residences, ought not to be attempted. Trees, 
 banks, and other obstructions, compel the pas¬ 
 senger to deviate from the straight line, and he 
 readily inclines to the curve of path that leads 
 from it.— Carlisle , 75. 
 
80 
 
 PICTURESGLUE SCENERY, 
 
 Architecture. Grecian architecture pleases 
 by symmetry and regularity, which are adverse 
 to the picturesque; but in the Gothic, the out¬ 
 line of the summit presents such a variety of 
 forms, of turrets, of pinnacles; some open, some 
 fretted and variously enriched, that even where 
 there is an exact correspondence of parts, it is 
 often disguised by an appearance of splendid 
 confusion and irregularity. In the doors and 
 windows of Gothic churches, the pointed arch 
 has as much variety as any regular figure can 
 well have: the eye, too, is less strongly con¬ 
 ducted than by the parallel lines in the Grecian 
 style, from the top of one aperture to that of 
 another; a n/1 p v ery -parson must be struck with 
 the extreme richness and intricacy of some of 
 the principal windows of our cathedrals and 
 ruined abbies. In these last is displayed the 
 triumph of the picturesque.— Price , i. 53, 54. 
 
 The Grecian architects rigidly adhered to 
 uniform proportions, the consequence of which 
 is, that buildings always appear smaller than 
 they really are; but the Gothic architects worked 
 only for effect, and made all their subordinate 
 parts and incidental decorations of as small a 
 proportion as was compatible with their being 
 distinctly seen; for the ornaments appear more 
 
SUBJECTS OF SCENERY. 
 
 81 
 
 light and elegant by being small, and the very 
 profusion with which they wei*e scattered, in 
 order to diffuse them over a large space, still 
 extended the scale which they afford to the eye 
 for the admeasurement of the whole. 
 
 This grandeur of effect was rendered more 
 solemn, and consequently more grand, by large 
 masses of dim and discoloured light, diffused in 
 various directions, and at different intervals, 
 through unequal varieties of space, divided, but 
 1K not separated, so as to produce intricacy without 
 
 * confusion. The view was interrupted through 
 
 successive ranges of arches, piers, and columns; 
 
 1 ol and there was no point from which the eye could 
 
 ^ see the whole of it at one glance. 1 bus effects 
 
 ol ' more imposing have been produced than are, 
 
 i*' perhaps, to be found in any other works of man. 
 
 4* _ Knight , on Taste , 177,'178. ed. 4. 
 
 i J n short, Grecian buildings please, because, 
 
 & » says Montesquieu, things which we see at one 
 
 wtt glance owe all their effect to symmetry, 
 
 in: The Grecian, as dependant upon studied 
 
 forkrf proportions, is beautiful in nudity : but not so 
 
 ■fete t he Gothic; it depends entirely upon its orna- 
 
 malli me nts; divested of these, the finest cathedral 
 
 tti-i becomes only a barn. 
 
 more Mr. Repton says, that there are only two 
 
 e 5 
 
82 
 
 PICTURESQUE SCENERY. 
 
 characters in buildings, derived from light and 
 shade; the perpendicular shadow, which belongs 
 to the Gothic; the horizontal to the Grecian. 
 — Inquiry, 73. 
 
 1 rees of a conical form harmonize with Gre¬ 
 cian architecture; the round-headed with the 
 Gothic.— Id. 77, 78. 
 
 The Oriental style of building is distinguished 
 by columns extravagantly slender and high. 
 (Knight, i. 166.) Its beauty entirely depends 
 upon its enrichments and decorations, which are 
 well shown off by elevation on a platform, so 
 that they never appear to rise crudely from the 
 ground.— Price , ii. 408. 
 
 The Arabian, or Moorish style, which is a 
 mixture of the Grecian, Gothic, and Oriental, 
 in fancy style is certainly susceptible of great 
 beauty*, andean be ruined only by heaviness. 
 
 The Egyptian style has been introduced par¬ 
 tially into this country. It is suited only to gi- 
 
 * Nothing can be more palace-like than the beau¬ 
 tiful specimens in Murphy's Arabian Antiquities of 
 Spain. In p. 3 he observes, that when a variety of 
 styles prevail in the different parts of which columns 
 are composed, it is evident that they originally be¬ 
 longed to different nations and ages. 
 
SUBJECTS OF SCENERY. 
 
 83 
 
 gantic edifices; and the fronts of buildings which 
 appear in that style, are to be regarded only in 
 the light of models. 
 
 Avenues. See § Wood, Avenues and Belts. 
 
 Banks. Smooth, sloping banks are insipid; 
 and to break them into natural forms, Mr. 
 Price recommends “ cutting them down perpen¬ 
 dicularly , and undermining them in different de¬ 
 grees” as the (mly means by which natural 
 
 variety and irregularity can be produced, (ii. 19.) 
 The fragments which fall will indicate where 
 large stones may be placed, and trees, bushes, 
 and tufts of rude vegetation, be planted, (p. 20.) 
 Roots, mosses, flowering and trailing plants may 
 also be added, (p. 33.) [For further ornaments, 
 see antea, § Water.] 
 
 A smooth bank, uniformly and regularly 
 sloped, is, in ground, what a mere wall is in 
 building, neat and finished, but totally without 
 variety. Nature’s banks have projections and 
 coves, and various inequalities in the sides 
 and summits, arising from mould deposited 
 there, from large stones or bits of rock, whence 
 the mould has been washed away, old trunks of 
 trees and other rude objects; and every break, 
 cove, or projection, is an indication where some 
 
84 PICTURESQUE SCENERY. 
 
 tree, shrub, climbing or trailing plants may be 
 placed with effect; for in all broken, picturesque 
 banks, whatever their scale, each variety that is 
 destroyed is not only a loss in itself, but it is 
 also a loss, considered as an indication, how 
 other correspondent beauties and varieties might 
 have been produced.— -Price, ii. 138_142. 
 
 [ISature often shews gx>od patterns of pic¬ 
 turesque banks on the sides of old roads or lanes 
 -F.-} 
 
 Belts. See Avenue , § Wood. 
 
 Brown’s plan of Landscape-making. An 
 undulating surface of ground was sought, and 
 impioved to such natural slopes as were calcu¬ 
 lated to produce variety and grace. On the 
 most commanding spot he usually placed the 
 mansion, supporting it by shrubberies on the 
 sides and in the rear, through which the walks 
 were conducted so as to be immersed in shade, 
 occasionally opening to the park or landscape in 
 favourable points. Water he conducted through 
 the park as a small river, so as to be conspicuous 
 and decorative from the principal apartments of 
 the house; its banks were gently sloped; bridges, 
 cascades, and islands, formed its chief embellish¬ 
 ments, and its effect was heightened by the plan¬ 
 tations, which were scattered over the whole 
 
SUBJECTS OF SCENERY. 
 
 85 
 
 park, and which he surrounded by another 
 called a belt, supported by large masses of plan¬ 
 tation where the property was extensive enough 
 to permit it, and through them he formed a 
 boundary drive, or walks. The road of ap¬ 
 proach was made to traverse a considerable por¬ 
 tion of the park in a sinuous progress to the 
 building, and so favourably to display some of 
 the leading features of the design. It was em¬ 
 bellished and supported by the plantations, 
 through some of which it was made to pass, and 
 by bridges, as it crossed the river, until nearly 
 approaching the mansion, the view at once 
 opened completely, with bold and striking mag¬ 
 nificence. The wild, as well as the polished 
 characters of scenery were cultivated as varieties 
 in the arrangements: and decorative edifices 
 and ornamental works were distributed over the 
 whole as objects of embellishment and pleasure. 
 — Papworth , 13. 
 
 [Though it is to be granted that Mr. Price is 
 too severe, yet it is plain that Brown’s method 
 is imperfect: that it would be extremely inju¬ 
 rious (and has been so) in wild and romantic 
 scenery ^ that monotony and baldness ai e its 
 grand defects; and that by making every thing 
 naked, the ground smooth and shorn, the water 
 
86 
 
 PICTURESftUE SCENERY. 
 
 naked, the buildings naked, and the trees scat¬ 
 tered and unconnected, it robs nature of all her 
 minor ornaments, and is at variance with her 
 
 grand laws of action in making landscapes_i?.] 
 
 Buildings. 
 
 1. Situations of Houses ; Appearance ; Views, 
 § c. In the choice of a situation, that which 
 shews the buildings best ought generally to be 
 preferred. An edifice in the midst of an ex¬ 
 tensive ridge seems naked, alone, and violently 
 imposed upon the scene.— Wheatley, 122, 123. 
 
 Buildings are often better seen in an oblique, 
 than a direct view ; or when a part is covered 
 or the extent interrupted, or they are bo¬ 
 somed in, or backed by, wood, or appear be¬ 
 tween the stems of trees rising before or above 
 them.— Id. 121. 
 
 On convex grounds, the size of the house 
 should be adapted to the size of the knoll; on 
 concaves,” or flats, the cellars should form the 
 ground story, and be covered with earth ; on 
 inclined planes, the size of the house must be 
 governed, in some measure, by the fall of the 
 ground, for an artificial terrace must be formed. 
 Such situations are peculiarly applicable to the 
 Gothic style, in which horizontal lines are less 
 necessary. On ridges, the house must be long 
 
SUBJECTS OF SCENERY. 87 
 
 and narrow; for a square house would look 
 awry, unless its fronts corresponded with the 
 shape of the adjacent ground. On a dead flat, 
 the house must be raised a very few feet, or be 
 set on a basement story.— llepton, 86—90. 
 
 In an excellent work (which every gentleman 
 who intends to alter or build should possess), 
 viz. “ Hints for Rural Residences ; by Nich. 
 Carlisle, Esq. 4to. 1825,” are the following rules: 
 
 A plan should be made upon the spot, in order 
 that every door and window may be adapted to 
 the aspects and purposes of the situation. 
 
 The smith aspect is the best; the south-west 
 the worst; because all blowing winds and driving 
 rains come from the S. W. and consequently 
 the windows are so covered with wet as to render 
 the landscape hardly visible.—;?. 7. 
 
 The best rooms are to be placed towards the 
 best views and the best aspects; and the en¬ 
 trances should not be on the same side of the 
 house with the principal entrance. 
 
 The southern aspect is the most desirable for 
 rooms which are to be occupied throughout the 
 year, because the sun in winter is low and ac¬ 
 ceptable; and in summer it is so much more 
 elevated, that it is rarely objectionable, and 
 easily shaded, lliis is not the case with the 
 
88 PICTURESaUE SCENERY. 
 
 eastern or western aspects, where the rays, being 
 more oblique, are not to be shaded but by ob¬ 
 literating the prospect*.— Repton, 8. 
 
 In choosing a situation for a house, which is 
 to be a principal feature in a place, more consi¬ 
 deration ought to be had of the views towards, 
 rather than of those from-wards, it; then, ac¬ 
 cording to the painters, the middle ground will 
 be the most proper situation, as being the medium 
 between the too exposed ridges of the hills, and 
 the too secluded recesses of the valleys. In any 
 situation, however, above the point of sight, 
 such objects may be happily placed, and con¬ 
 tribute to the embellishment of the adjoining 
 scenery; but there are scarcely any buildings, 
 except bridges, which will bear being looked 
 down upon; a fore-shortening from the roof to 
 the base being apparently awkward and un¬ 
 graceful.— Knight, 226, 227. pi. 2. c. 2. § 102. 
 
 Castles and Abbies, or remains of them, 
 should never stand naked in lawns, or the fosses 
 of the former be filled up; for such nakedness 
 destroys all grandeur of character.— Price, ii. 
 183 seq. 
 
 * In Mr. Carlisle’s work quoted, will be found 
 the most valuable instructions for the sites of rooms, 
 doors, &c. &c. not within the plan of this work. 
 
SUBJECTS OF SCENERY. 89 
 
 Uniform views from a house should be bro¬ 
 ken by trees, for, without some objects in the 
 fore-ground, any prospect or view, however 
 charming, would be nearly the same from each 
 window; whereas, by means of trees, each win¬ 
 dow would present a different picture, and even 
 those windows, whence the objects would be 
 most concealed, may present certain portions 
 of the more distant view across the branches and 
 foliage in a picturesque manner.—Price, ii. 189 
 —191. 
 
 In buildings, where the forms and the heights 
 are varied by means of pavilions, colonnades, 
 &c. there generally are places where trees may 
 be planted with great advantage to the effect of 
 the building, considered as part of a picture, 
 without injury to it as a piece of architecture. 
 —Id. ii. 193. 
 
 A square, detached house requires trees to 
 make up for the want of variety in its form, but 
 affords no indication where they may be placed 
 with effect.— Id. ii. 194. 
 
 The sublime in buildings is produced by 
 succession and uniformity, united to greatness 
 of dimension (as by massive towers at the end of 
 avenues by cathedrals, &c.), by the accumulation 
 of unequal and irregular forms, and the intn- 
 
90 
 
 PICTURESQ.UE SCENERY. 
 
 cacy of their disposition, as old castles upon 
 eminences, with massive gateways, towers behind 
 towers, &c. and by massiness and solidity of 
 construction, as assimilating majestic rocks.— 
 Price, ii. 197—207. 
 
 In Grecian buildings, when viewed at a dis¬ 
 tance, the porticoes and columns are less ob¬ 
 served than the general squareness and the 
 straight lines of the roof; but if the spectator is 
 on a level with the base of the building, and 
 confined with respect to distance, then the co¬ 
 lumns and porticoes have a noble and beautiful 
 effect.— Price, ii. 208. 
 
 In more distant views of houses in the 
 country, those are the most generally pleasing 
 where trees and masses of wood intervene, and 
 where, consequently, the base is not seen: in 
 such views, porticoes aud breaks below die 
 summit are in a great degree concealed, and 
 the line of the roof being the part opposed to 
 the sky, becomes principal; in which cases, the 
 advantage of towers, and of whatever varies that 
 line, is obvious.— Id, ii. 211. 
 
 Some of the most striking and varied compo¬ 
 sitions, both in painting and in nature, are those 
 where the more distant view is seen between the 
 stems, and across and under branches of large 
 
91 
 
 u 
 
 SUHJECTS OF SCENERY. 
 
 trees, and where some of those trees ai e very near 
 the eye. But where trees are so disposed, a house 
 with a regular extended front could not be 
 built without destroying, together with many 
 of the trees, the greatest part of such well com¬ 
 posed pictures. Now if the owner of such a 
 spot, instead of making a regular front and 
 sides, were to insist upon having many of the 
 windows turned towards those points which 
 were most happily arranged, the architect would 
 be forced into the invention of a number oi 
 picturesque forms and combinations, which 
 otherwise might never have occurred to him, 
 and would be obliged to do what so seldom has 
 been done, accommodate his building to the 
 scenery, not make that give way to his building. 
 — Price , ii. 263. 
 
 Lightness and airiness in buildings are pro¬ 
 duced by open porticoes and colonnades. Id. 
 ii. 295. 
 
 The practice of the present day in the ar¬ 
 rangements of the dwellings is thus described 
 by Mr. Papworth: 
 
 “ The house is approached by a line of 
 gravel road winding up the slope of ground, 
 on which it is placed in the way naturally cho¬ 
 sen to surmount an ascent, and so that the 
 
offices would be seen between and above the 
 plantations as they are passed. The house 
 itself would be occasionally viewed through the 
 intervening masses of trees, and the grounds 
 gradually open to an increased display, towards 
 which its elevated terrace in front would con¬ 
 tribute, besides affording an ample platform on 
 which the building would stand, and the car¬ 
 riages turn about and find a station when at¬ 
 tending for visitors. 
 
 6i ^ ie terrace becomes a means of uniting the 
 building with the grounds, removing the field¬ 
 like approximation of the lawn on the spot, 
 where the objection commonly existing would 
 be the most apparent, and from this platform 
 the scenery would have a varied and park-like 
 effect, in comparison with those obtained by the 
 spectator when within the south apartments. 
 Irom these a considerable expanse would be 
 viewed, varied by the undulating forms of the 
 ground, and enriched by the masses, groups, 
 and single trees of the fore-ground, middle, and 
 distances, and by the enlivening effect of the 
 water, which would be viewed up its course in 
 the most favourable manner to create the inte¬ 
 resting display of which it is so eminently ca¬ 
 pable. From this point, the whole prospect 
 
SUBJECTS OF SCENERY. 
 
 93 
 
 towards the south is composed inexact imitation 
 of the natural scenery of a park, commencing 
 at the evergreen plantations of the fore-ground, 
 and terminating in the distant prospects which 
 the country might afford, and to which the park 
 character is united by the wilder plantations 
 near the boundary of the property. 
 
 “ In the adjoining apartments towards the 
 west, and in the rear of the building, a new 
 character is created. The windows sheltered 
 by verandahs, open to the level of the lawn, in 
 which complete seclusion from the park is ob¬ 
 tained by a boundary of evergreen shrubs, over¬ 
 hung by the most ornamental trees, and varied, 
 for the purpose of embellishments, by coloui, by 
 blossom, and leafage. The lawn is disposed in 
 flower-beds, and, from its situation, is capable of 
 affording shady or sunny walks at every hour of 
 the day. 
 
 “ Against the wall which separates the lawn 
 from the kitchen garden, a corridor and con¬ 
 servatory is placed, and in connection with it, an 
 aviary and pheasantry. This corridor being 
 entered from the vestibule, it would lead the 
 spectator forward to a considerable length, and 
 until he would arrive at the rosiary. Along this 
 
n 
 
 
 94 PICTUItESGtUE SCENERY. 
 
 extensive line of covered way, statues, vases, 
 plants, and other embellishments of art and 
 nature might be placed to advantage, and re¬ 
 ceive the protection of ample shelter. 
 
 “ The rosiary at the extremity of the avenue ^ 
 is circular, and contains in the centre a fountain 
 and receptacles for gold and silver fish. As this 
 little garden is formed upon the projecting point 
 of the hill on which the house is placed, it com¬ 
 mands views of the surrounding country, and 
 towards the south, that of the home grounds, in 
 which the water becomes a leading feature. It 
 is in these select spots, in the neighbourhood of 
 the house, that evergreen shrubs are chiefly 
 placed, and about which walks are planned for 
 the purpose of being benefited by verdure in all 
 seasons of the year. By these means, buildings 
 and works of art are embellished and connected 
 with landscape scenery, and, being mixed with 
 trees of the deciduous kind, they may be made 
 gradually to yield their compact and deep-toned 
 effects, and insensibly unite with the park ar¬ 
 rangements. 
 
 “ The walks about the house are disposed both 
 for variety of scene, and to obtain warmth, or 
 coolness, as the season or the day may permit: 
 
95 
 
 11 — 
 
 LJ 
 
 SUBJECTS OF SCENERY. 
 
 these are assisted in their object by alcoves, 
 seats, and verandahs, so placed as to afford the 
 benefits required. 
 
 “ The kitchen-garden forms a part of the ar¬ 
 rangements for walks, and it is so connected 
 with the pleasure grounds, that it may be en¬ 
 tered from several parts of it. This circum¬ 
 stance, to many, is not of value; but although 
 the kitchen-garden is not arranged for plea¬ 
 sure or display, its usefulness, and perpetually 
 changing culture, is not without its charms, and 
 therefore should not be estranged from the 
 neighbourhood of the pleasure-gardens; besides, 
 as the course of walk should properly permit 
 every spot appropriated to interesting purposes 
 to be entered, the kitchen-garden may fairly 
 claim the privilege. The walks communicating 
 with the distant grounds, diverge from the home 
 plantations in various places. 
 
 “ In the front, descending the hill by the line 
 of approach, a path passes the lodge and pro¬ 
 ceeds in concealment until new prospects are 
 obtained by openings into the grounds, and 
 sometimes towards the country. From this 
 line, which may be termed the boundary path, 
 others diverge, leading into the park, and to 
 
certain points, by shortened routes; these 
 should be chiefly mown, except when they spee¬ 
 dily return unto the boundary line. 
 
 “ -To prevent the too obvious appearance of 
 passing near the inclosures, the plantations 
 must generally have sufficient depth to hide 
 them: with this precaution, and by changing 
 die direction gradually, and at interesting ob¬ 
 jects, amidst the intricacies of the scene, the 
 visitor may circumambulate the place, unaware 
 that he has nearly approached its confines. 
 
 “ In varied spots in the course of the walks, 
 ornamental temples, bridges, and aviaries, may 
 be presented to the eye, being at once useful 
 and pleasing; and as the park would lead to 
 contrasting effects of scenery, these should be 
 designed and disposed accordingly; remem¬ 
 bering always, that suitableness is the essential 
 quality, to which each will be indebted for ap¬ 
 probation, and that the accompanying scenery 
 must be harmonized with them.” Papworth , 
 27—30. 
 
 Where there is want of room, it appears, 
 by a diagram in Papworth (36), that it is 
 most advantageous to place the house ob¬ 
 liquely. 
 
SUBJECTS OF SCENERY. 97 
 
 Houses, Beauty and Ugliness of—Kinds 
 of, &c. 
 
 The Palace must be accompanied with grand 
 scenery.— Papworth , 14.— llepton , 29. See Ac¬ 
 companiments of Buildings. 
 
 Castles should stand in a commanding , or an 
 uncommanded situation.— Price , ii. 263. 
 
 The Castle should be decorated with rocks, 
 rugged, forest, and Alpine scenery.— Void. 
 
 The Villa should be placed in beautiful, i. e. 
 gay, luxuriant, and light scenery.— Ibid. — Car¬ 
 lisle, 3. 
 
 Country-houses should never be taken from 
 town-houses, because in streets or squares only 
 one front is required.— Price , ii. 173. 
 
 Greek architecture is proper only on a large 
 scale.— Gilpin!s Northern Tour , i. 28. 
 
 Grecian buildings may be, and often are, 
 beautiful; but there is a bad style of Roman 
 architecture in this country, where spindle co¬ 
 lumns, bald capitals, wide intercohimniatior>, 
 and scanty entablatures, form a sort of frippery 
 trimming fit only to adorn a house built after 
 the model of a brick clamp.— Knight L , 179. 
 
 The Grecian architecture, for want of breaks 
 and divisions, can never be picturesque, except 
 in ruins; but a Gothic building, in an entire 
 
98 
 
 PICTURESQUE SCENERY. 
 
 state, may be both beautiful and picturesque.— 
 Price , ii. 261. 
 
 Old Manor-houses , which are only in a state 
 oi neglect, not of ruinous decay, accompanied 
 by their walled terraces, by their summer¬ 
 houses covered with ivy, and mixed with wild 
 vegetation, have the most picturesque effect. 
 When any of them are sufficiently preserved to 
 be capable of being repaired, and are intended 
 to be made habitable, too much caution cannot 
 be used in clearing away those disguises and 
 intricacies which the hand of time has slowly 
 created, lest w r ith those venerable accompani¬ 
 ments their ancient and venerable character 
 should be destroyed.— Price , ii. 264. 
 
 Old buildings are often picturesque from their 
 irregularity, and being built at different times.— 
 Id. ii. 266. 
 
 Dressed Cottages should not be large. Of¬ 
 fices, if wanted, should be detached in hamlets. 
 
 The ugliest buildings are those which have no 
 feature, no character; which resemble a clamp 
 of bricks. The term which most expresses what 
 is shapeless is that of a lump; and it generally 
 indicates what is detached from other objects, 
 what is without variation of parts in itself, or 
 any material difference in length, breadth, or 
 
SUBJECTS OF SCENERY. 
 
 99 
 
 height; a sort of equality that appears best to 
 accord with the monotony of ugliness. Still, 
 perhaps, tall buildings, as many-storied houses 
 and manufactories, may contend for the palm ol 
 ugliness. They disbeautify an enchanting piece 
 of scenery; they contaminate the most inte¬ 
 resting views; and are so tall that there is no 
 escaping from them in any part. In that re¬ 
 spect they have the same unfortunate advantage 
 over a squat building that a stripped elm has 
 over a pollard willow.— Price , ii. 198. 
 
 Deformed Houses . Where the architecture 
 is regular, if any part be taken away so as to 
 interrupt the symmetry, or any thing be added 
 which has no connection with its character, the 
 building is manifestly deformed.— Id. 199. 
 
 Tall chimnies have a very bad effect in low 
 houses— Price , ii. 349. 
 
 Roofs should not slant too much: they should 
 be nearly flat. Slanting roofs do not, in gene¬ 
 ral, accord with splendid architecture. The 
 reason is, because the roof has no effect of light 
 or shadow, and does not admit of decoration; 
 and it has also a more unfinished look than any 
 other part. For this reason, it ought not to 
 predominate in the object, for this defect ensues 
 in too long and sloping roofs.— Id. ii. 337, 338. 
 f 2 
 
Farm-houses should be blended with trees.— 
 Wheatley , 175. 
 
 In picturesque rural dwellings, irregularity 
 should be studied, and projecting parts should 
 be rather over-charged than curtailed; because 
 the picturesque depends, in a great measure, 
 upon a judicious contrast of light and shade.— 
 Carlisle, 27, 28. 
 
 Climbing plants are fit for projections, porches, 
 &c.— Id. 90, 91. 
 
 Cottages should be only small, or in hamlets. 
 They should never have sharp-pointed arches in 
 the doors or windows; only flat arches, like 
 those of the time of Henry VIII.— Id. 25. 
 
 Cottages may be introduced to diversify large 
 plains; but no incongruous, ornamental build¬ 
 ings.— Wheatley , 120. 
 
 The Cottage should be accompanied with 
 rustic or rural scenery.— Papwoi'th , 14. 
 
 The outline of cottages, against the sky, should 
 be generally composed of forms of unequal 
 heights, thrown into many different degrees of 
 perspective; the sides be varied by projecting 
 windows and doors ; by sheds supported by 
 brackets, with flower-pots on them; by the light, 
 airy, and detached appearance of bird-cages 
 hung out from the wall; and by porches and 
 
 
101 
 
 SUBJECTS OF SCENERY. 
 
 trellices of various constructions, often covered 
 with vine or ivy.— Price , ii. S26. 
 
 Baldness of effect in all objects arises from 
 want of shadow; but many circumstances pro¬ 
 duce depth of shadow, such as are projecting 
 roofs, porches, and windows that are recessed. 
 These are perfectly consistent with uniformity 
 and simplicity, and are proper in cottages. 
 The old-fashioned chimnies, massive, and inclu¬ 
 ding the oven, should be preserved; for chim¬ 
 nies tall and thin, produce in cottages a wretched, 
 meagre outline; are only long detached tubes. 
 — Price , ii. 350. 
 
 Trees seem to unite better with low than 
 high buildings. Cottages appear to repose under 
 their shades, to be protected, sometimes sup¬ 
 ported, by them; and they, on the other hand, 
 hang over and embrace the cottages with their 
 branches. It seems as if they could never have 
 separated from each other, and there would be 
 a sort of cruelty in dividing them. Id. ii. 3o0. 
 
 Climbing plants should not be nailed against 
 the houses; but the proper place for them is 
 porches and projections, -id. 354. 
 
 Lodges should be considered as a higher 
 class of cottages, and be sparingly decorated. 
 Papworth, 49. 
 
 Mr. Repton (p. 30) recommends magnificent 
 
PICTURESQUE SCENERY. 
 
 gates, rather than humble picturesque cottages, 
 in palaces and large buildings. Elsewhere he 
 says : Lodges should partake of the style of the 
 house, and announce its character. Where the 
 entrance is the most obvious in point of convex 
 nience, and is rather to show the beauties of the 
 situation than the character of the place, a wood¬ 
 man’s cottage near the gate is quite sufficient; 
 and if such a cottage is built in the style and 
 date of the old cottages on the borders of a 
 forest, it will still less betray the innovation of 
 modern improvement. But such a style should 
 not be imitated by pointed door-ways, or sham 
 Gothic windows; but be formed upon the con¬ 
 struction of such buildings in the days of Queen 
 Elizabeth.— Repton , 114, [who condemns tri¬ 
 umphal arches, double lodges, like Roman mau- 
 solea, &c.] 
 
 Rustic lodges to parks, dressed cottages, pas¬ 
 toral seats, gates, and gateways, made of unhewn 
 branches and stems of trees, have all a strong 
 character of affectation; the rusticity of the first 
 being that of a clown in a pantomime, and the 
 simplicity of the others, that of a shepherdess in 
 a French opera. — Knight , 224. 
 
 Offices annexed to Mansions. The practice, 
 which was so prevalent in the beginning of this 
 century, of placing the mansion-house between 
 
SUBJECTS OF SCENERY. 
 
 103 
 
 two correspondent wings, in which were con¬ 
 tained the offices, has of late fallen into disuse ; 
 and one still more adverse to composition suc¬ 
 ceeded; namely, that of entirely hiding the 
 offices behind masses of plantation, and leaving 
 the wretched, square, solitary mansion-house to 
 exhibit its pert, bald front between the dwart 
 shrubberies, which seem like whiskers added to 
 the portico or entrance. Had the offices been 
 shown with it, in subordinate ranges of less ele¬ 
 vated buildings, though the forms had indivi¬ 
 dually been bad, yet by dividing and grouping 
 them with trees, pleasing effects of composition 
 might have been produced; at once to gratify 
 the eye with some varieties of tint, and light, 
 and shadow, and to amuse the imagination with 
 some appearance of intricacy. Where they 
 are only masked by shrubberies, this may still 
 be done; but, unfortunately, they are often 
 concealed in recesses, or behind mounds; the 
 improver generally picking out the most retired, 
 intricate, and beautiful spot that can be found 
 near the house to bury them in.— Knight, 220, 
 221. [With this arrangement, Mr. Papworth 
 agrees, p. 26.] 
 
 The offices should be of good forms, and har¬ 
 monize with the house; the difference of ex- 
 

 pense between good and bad forms being trifling ; 
 the difference in their appearance immense.— 
 Price , ii. 181 , 182 . 
 
 A Palace must not be a solitary object: it 
 requires to be supported and surrounded by 
 subordinate buildings, which, like the attendants 
 on royalty, form part of its state; but no such 
 buildings must be longer than the house (or they 
 become rivals, instead of attendants), only the 
 gates, or elevated turrets of such buildings 
 should be of the same character and style, with¬ 
 out the rich decorations of the palace. In small 
 buildings, the same richness of ornament may 
 pievail as in the house; offices, half buried in 
 wood, may preserve their humble and appro¬ 
 priate character; but all which are conspicuous 
 should be ornamented, and make part of the 
 scenery.— llepton^ 80 . 
 
 Accompaniments of buildings are only proper 
 to supply want of variety, and break uniformity 
 of view; especially on heaths, moors, or large 
 plains.— Wheatley , 119. 
 
 Inconsistencies should be avoided. Hermi¬ 
 tages should not be placed by the side of a road, 
 nor castles in a bottom.—/*/. 128 . 
 
 Towers should be bosomed high in tufted 
 
 trees.—/*/, 129—199, 
 
An old tower in the middle of a deep wood is 
 picturesque.— Alison , i. 43. 
 
 Chalk in Landscapes. Large patches ot 
 chalk spoil a landscape .—Gilpin s Northern 
 Tour , i. 21. 
 
 Churches. A winding road, spreading trees, 
 a rivulet with a bridge, and a church with a 
 spire, to bring the whole to an apex, are propel 
 appendages to villages.— Id. i. 22. 
 
 Of the most conspicuous parts of churches, 
 there are various forms; among which, none is 
 perhaps more suited to a village than that which 
 occurs in the often quoted lines of Milton—a 
 tower with battlements. A tower, in its most 
 simple, unvaried, unornamented state, always 
 strikes and pleases the eye. It also admits of a 
 high degree of ornament. The battlement is the 
 simplest break to the uniformity of a mere wall; 
 it is sufficient to give variety to the summit, 
 without injury to its massiveness. On the other 
 hand, pinnacles and open-work are the most 
 striking specimens of richness and lightness, 
 both of design and execution. They are, how¬ 
 ever, on account of that richness, less suited to 
 a village than to a city; yet they will not bear 
 to be simplified; for where a plain pinnacle is 
 placed at each corner of a tower, the whole has 
 f 5 
 
106 
 
 PICTURESQUE SCENERY. 
 
 a very meagre appearance; indeed, when we 
 consider what are the chief characteristics of the 
 style of architecture to which they belong, plain, 
 simple Gothic is almost as great a contradiction 
 as plain, simple intricacy and enrichment. Bat¬ 
 tlements are not liable to the same objections as 
 pinnacles; for their effect, though simple, is 
 never meagre. The battlemented tower admits 
 also of many picturesque additions, such as 
 turrets rising above, or projecting beyond, the 
 main body.— Price , ii. 360. 
 
 The spire has its own peculiar beauty, though 
 of a very inferior kind to that of the tower; yet 
 there are situations where the spire, on account 
 of its height, and for the sake of variety, may 
 have the preference; but, as its beauty consists 
 m its height, its gradual diminution, and its 
 connection with the base, nothing can be more 
 absurd than a short spire stuck upon a tower, 
 and that by way of ornament.— Id. ii. 361. 
 
 [The beauty of a spire depends upon the 
 elegance of its proportions. Five diameters of 
 the base appear to form the utmost proportion 
 of tapering consistent with beauty.—JR] 
 
 Church-yards, like all other buildings, are 
 much improved by the accompaniment of trees; 
 but whatever trees are planted in a church-yard. 
 
107 
 
 SUBJECTS OF SCENERY. 
 
 whether evergreens or deciduous, it is clear that 
 they should be of a dark foliage: evergreens, 
 therefore, as more solemn, in general deserve 
 the preference; and there seems to be no reason 
 why, in the more southern parts of England, 
 cypresses should not be mixed with yews, or 
 why cedars of Libanus, which are perfectly 
 hardy, and of a much quicker growth than yews, 
 should not be introduced. In high, romantic 
 situations, particularly where the church is ele¬ 
 vated above the general level, a cedar, spreading 
 its branches downward from that height, Mould 
 have the most picturesque, and at the same time, 
 the most solemn effect.— Price, ii. 362, 363. 
 
 Colonnades; Columns. Open colonnades 
 are always light and airy, (Id. ii. 295) especially 
 if directly opposite to the eye.— Id. 301. 
 
 Two of the noblest effects of columns are 
 where they are grouped together in a bold pro¬ 
 jection, as in a portico; or when, upon that 
 grand principle of uniformity and succession, 
 they are arranged on a line in one or more 
 rows, as in most of the ancient temples.— Id. 
 ii. 281. 
 
 To make columns support some trifle, only 
 placed upon them as an excuse for their intro¬ 
 duction, is to degrade a member of such great 
 
and obvious use to a mere gew-gaw.— Price , ii. 
 
 280 . 
 
 Ferme Ornee. See Ornamented Farms. 
 
 Flower-Gardens. Gilpin recommends flow¬ 
 ers to be planted, each sort in masses, as under 
 trees and on banks, by nature, with regard to 
 blue-bells and primroses. 
 
 There is a defect in our al fresco gardens. 
 Flowers are there planted and sown for suc¬ 
 cession, as it is called, so that one plant is seen 
 to flourish in full blossom and display, whilst its 
 neighbour on one side is proceeding to decay, 
 and on the other just budding into promise: 
 this is a defect; and it will be found that in the 
 best gardens, if they are not prepared for the 
 luxuriance of one or two months in the year 
 alone, the flowers are in the state alluded to, and 
 do not present the full effects of which they 
 are capable.— Papworth , 101.* 
 
 The ancients used to have gardens suited to 
 the seasons of the year, and this is the only 
 mode of guarding against the mixture of bloom 
 and decay.— Ibid. 
 
 The flowers of colours may be strong in con- 
 
 
 * Papworth’s plan for an aviary and flower-gar¬ 
 den is exceedingly beautiful.-—pi. xxi. 
 
SUBJECTS OF SCENERY. 
 
 109 
 
 trast, though they do not harmonize without the 
 intervention of a third. The colours that are 
 said to be in perfect harmony are Red and 
 Green; Bi.ue and Orange; \ellow and 
 Purple: they are, nevertheless, perfect con¬ 
 trasts, or in the extremes of opposition. All 
 colours agree with green. White increases 
 lustre.— Papworth, T7. 
 
 Flower-gardens are now formed in beds upon 
 
 the lawn. 
 
 Fruit-Trees adorn stone or brick houses. 
 The effect of blossoms, however gay and cheerful, 
 is often spotty and glaring; but when they are 
 connected with stone buildings, or houses of a 
 lio-ht colour, the whole is upon the same scale of 
 colouring, and produces a highly brilliant, but 
 harmonious picture.— Price , ii. 35 1. 
 
 Fruit-trees nailed to walls may give cheerful 
 ideas, but they should be near habitations.— 
 Carlisle , 95. See Orchard. 
 
 Grottoes. See Shrubberies. 
 
 Hills and Mountains. The beauty of a 
 succession, or range of mountains, depends upon 
 each having a different outline. No two hills 
 should be like each other.— Gilpin. 
 
 Mountains are only proper at the close of a 
 vi ew .— Id. Northern Tour, i. 82. 
 
110 PICTURESaUE SCENERY. 
 
 When the beauty of a large hill, seen from 
 below, is impaired by the even continuation of 
 its brow, a large knoll, descending in some 
 places lower than the others, and rooted at 
 several points into the hill, will remedy the 
 defect; as would some channel, or hollow, car¬ 
 ried upwards till it cut the continued line; or 
 throwing the brow forward in one place, and 
 back in another; or forming a secondary ridge 
 a little way down the side, and casting the 
 ground above it into a different, though not 
 opposite direction to the general descent. Di¬ 
 viding the line into equal parts, or breaking it 
 by hillocks, is bad.— Wheatley, 18 . 
 
 A conical hill, standing out from a long, ir¬ 
 regular, mountainous ridge, improves the view. 
 —Id. 22. 
 
 The sides of a hill, if broken into hollows and 
 protuberances, form beautiful masses of light 
 and shade, which do not occur in a regular 
 slope. Fine specimens occur on the Banks of 
 the Wye. — F. 
 
 One of the sublimest objects in natural scenery 
 is an old and deep wood, covering the side of 
 a mountain, when seen from below. —Alison on 
 Taste, i. 29. 
 
 Those hills and mountains which nearly ap- 
 
Ill 
 
 SUBJECTS OF SCENERY. 
 
 proach to angles, are called beautiful; and when 
 their size and colour are diminished and softened 
 by distance, they accord with the softest and 
 most pleasing scenes, and compose the distance 
 of some of Claude’s most polished landscapes. 
 The ugliest hills are those which are lumpish, 
 and, as it were, unformed: such, for instance, 
 as are called pig-backed. When the summits 
 of any of these are notched into paltry divisions, 
 or have such insignificant risings upon them as 
 appear like knobs, or bumps; or when any 
 improver has imitated those knobs or notches, 
 by means of patches or clumps, they aie then 
 both ugly and deformed.— Price, i. 192, 193. 
 See Ground. 
 
 Lanes. See Roads. 
 
 Lawn. By this term is here meant that 
 grass plat which lies between the house and the 
 pasture. It is usually separated from the pas¬ 
 ture by a light iron fence; from parks by a ha- 
 ha, or sunk fence and terrace. Its embellish¬ 
 ments are beds of choice shrubs and flowers 
 formed upon it, of various shapes; and by sin¬ 
 gle evergreen trees or shrubs growing from the 
 grass. These, if judiciously disposed, will har¬ 
 monize the landscape with the building, and 
 dismiss the nakedness which too commonly pre- 
 
112 PICTURESQUE SCENERY. 
 
 vails in the lawns of villas in general. From 
 the interior, this decorative planting will carry 
 forward the richness and furnished effect of the 
 apartments, and obviate that abrupt and offen¬ 
 sive difference which seems otherwise to prevail 
 between them and the external scenery. Small 
 ornamental seats of china or porcelain; rustic 
 or fanciful chairs; vases; and basket-work bor¬ 
 der to the flower-beds, are furniture of the 
 lawn; and the tent or marquee is, in summer, 
 an important accompaniment.— Papworth , 95. 
 Of Lawns in Parks. See Parks. 
 
 Mills are excellent specimens of the pic¬ 
 turesque, unmixed with grandeur or beauty._ 
 
 Price , ii. 321. 
 
 Mountains. See Hills. 
 
 Orchard. I have seen an orchard made 
 both picturesque and useful. The fruit-trees 
 were planted along the fronts of the hedge, 
 irregularly and at unequal distances. The fruit 
 trees on the middle were only two or three, and 
 formed into natural thickets by adding filberd- 
 trees. The straight line of the hedge, and 
 angular corners, were broken into irregular 
 curves by the same means. 
 
 Orchards look like gardens; but make a 
 scattered, discordant landscape. The blossoms 
 
113 
 
 SUBJECTS OF SCENERY. 
 
 are beautiful in a near view, when the different 
 shades and gradations of their colours may be 
 distinguished; but at a distance they lose all 
 their richness and variety. Price , i. 17o. 
 
 [The foliage of fruit-trees is in general bad, 
 and their numerous branches grow in the form 
 of a mere huddle of sticks.—i*.] 
 
 Ornamental Buildings. A profusion of 
 them has a glaring, unconnected appearance; 
 and, however judiciously they may be placed 
 and accompanied, have always a want of interest. 
 
 _ Price , ii. 343. See Buildings ; Temples. 
 
 Ornamented Farms. All the inclosures 
 should be totally different.— Wheatley, 164. 
 
 Transitions should be very sudden, and the 
 paths varying.— Id. 166. 
 
 Pastures, if large, may be broken by strag¬ 
 gling bushes, thickets, or coppices; and scat¬ 
 tered trees should be beset with brambles and 
 briars.— Id. 172. 
 
 Arable lands may be distinguished by different 
 sorts of grain.— Id. 172. 
 
 Much wood is essential in these ornamented 
 farms; and ruins and churches are very advan¬ 
 tageous.— Id. 173. 
 
 The farm-house and buildings should be 
 blended with trees.— Id. 175. 
 
114 
 
 PICTURESQUE SCENERY, 
 
 The dairy-farm is as much a part of the place 
 as the deer-park, and in many respects more 
 picturesque ; consisting of such varied and plea¬ 
 sing inclosures, and so enriched by groups of 
 trees, that it would not be improved by the 
 removal of any hedges: its character is strictly 
 preserved by the style of the buildings. An old 
 farm-house, a labourer’s cottage, a hay-stack, or 
 a thatched hovel, are far more appropriate than 
 the pseudo-Gothic dairy [See Ruins], or the 
 French-painted trellis in an useful dairy-farm. 
 —Repton , 32. 
 
 Parks. A park should not be too wild. It 
 should seem rather to be reclaimed from a 
 forest, than be a neglected corner of it. The 
 wildness must not be universal.— Wheatley, 183. 
 
 The most romantic scenes are not, however, 
 incompatible with the character of a park.— Id. 
 
 The lawns should be separated by fine trees, 
 either in groves, or otherwise, or patches of 
 coppice-wood— Id. 203. 
 
 Smoothness, verdure, and undulation, are the 
 most characteristic beauties of a lawn; but they 
 are, in miniature, closely allied to monotony. 
 1 he proper plan for disposing the wood should 
 be taken from natural forests.— Price, i. 288 seq. 
 
 I he view from the hall-door is in too many 
 
115 
 
 SUBJECTS OF SCENERY. 
 
 instances a boundless extent of open lawn in 
 every direction, which the despairing visitant 
 must traverse before he can get to any change 
 of scenery; and the clumps with which this 
 monotonous tract is dotted, and the winding 
 stream or canal by which it is intersected, is 
 made as neat and formal as ever the ancient 
 gardens were.— Knight , 218. 
 
 The shrubbery should open into the park. 
 
 A short walk through the latter should lead to 
 a farm, and the ways along the glades to ridings 
 in the country.— Wheatley , 182. 
 
 Park scenery is often injured by too many 
 young trees being planted to destroy the for¬ 
 mality of rows of old trees, the remains of hedge¬ 
 rows ; but thus the whole composition is frit¬ 
 tered into small parts. The masses of light and 
 shade, whether in a natural landscape or a pic¬ 
 ture, must be broad and unbroken, or the eje 
 will be distracted by the flutter of the scene; 
 and the mind will be rather employed in re¬ 
 tracing the former lines of hedge-rows, than in 
 admiring the ample extent of lawn, and conti¬ 
 nuity of wood, which alone distinguish the park 
 from the grass or dairy farm.— Repton , 100. 
 
 Where old hedge-row timber exists, there 
 can be little occasion for dotting young trees 
 
116 PICTURESQUE SCENERY. 
 
 with such profusion; we often see several hun¬ 
 dred such trees scattered upon a lawn, where 
 not more than twenty can be absolutely neces¬ 
 sary— Repton, 101. 
 
 The contrasted greens of wood and lawn are 
 not sufficient to gratify the eye. It requires 
 other objects, and those of different colours; 
 such as rocks, water, and cattle; but where 
 these natural objects cannot easily be had, the 
 variety may be obtained by artificial means; 
 such as a building, a tent, or a road; and per¬ 
 haps there is no object more useful in such 
 countiies than a gravel-road of a good colour, 
 gracefully winding between, and of course de¬ 
 fining those gentle swells of the ground which 
 are hardly perceptible from the uniform colour 
 of grass land.— Id. 101. 
 
 A scene, however beautiful in itself, will soon 
 lose its interest unless it is enlivened by moving 
 objects ; and from the shape of the ground near 
 most houses, there is another material use in 
 having cattle to feed on the lawn in view of the 
 windows. lhe eye forms a very inaccurate 
 judgment of extent, especially in looking down 
 a hill, unless there be some standard by which 
 it can be measured. Bushes and trees are of 
 such various sizes, that it is impossible to use 
 
117 
 
 SUBJECTS OF SCENERY. 
 
 them as a measure of distance; but the size of a 
 horse, a sheep, or a cow, varies so little, and is 
 so familiar to us, that we immediately judge ol 
 their distance from their apparent diminution, 
 according to the distance at which they are 
 placed; and as they occasionally change their 
 situation, they break that surface over which 
 the eye passes without observing it, to the first 
 object it meets to rest upon.— Bepton, 103. 
 
 The park is an appendage of magnificence 
 rather than of utility; and its decorations, 
 therefore, should partake of the character of 
 the palace; they should appear to belong to its 
 suite and ornament; they should rather consist 
 of covered seats, a pavilion, or a prospect-room, 
 than objects of mere use, as a hay-barn or a 
 cottage, because the latter may be found in any 
 grass field, but the former denote a superior 
 degree of importance.— Id. 32. 
 
 Towers, columns, or obelisks, on the summits 
 of the highest hills in a park, as being conspi¬ 
 cuous landmarks, draw the attention from the 
 place to themselves, but on lower sites may be 
 pleasing embellishments, not obtrusive features. 
 —Id. 33. 
 
 In the decorations of ground adjoining a 
 house, much should depend upon the character 
 
118 PICTURESQUE SCENERY. 
 
 of the house itself. If it be neat and regular, 
 neatness and regularity should accompany it \ 
 but if it be rugged and picturesque, and situated 
 amidst scenery of the same character, art should 
 approach it with caution: at all events, the 
 chaiacter of dress and artificial neatness ought 
 never to be suffered upon the park or the forest, 
 where it is as contrary to propriety as it is to 
 beauty.— Knight , 159. 
 
 Paths, See Walks. 
 
 Pleasure Garden. See Shrubbery. 
 
 Prospect. No prospect should be antici¬ 
 pated. It should be planted against, and be 
 approached by a dark walk, or terminate a 
 glade. Prospects are best when they burst upon 
 the view from a precipitous high ground. 
 
 Regularity and Uniformity in rocks or 
 mountains, or in any of the ingredients of na¬ 
 tural scenery, is a defect instead of a beauty.— 
 Alison, ii. 65. 
 
 But uniformity in the whole number of leaves 
 in a tree is very beautiful.— Id. 66. 
 
 Roads. New-made roads are always raw, 
 and mostly of insipid nakedness, because they 
 are not fringed with trees, and time has not 
 effaced artificiality of every kind. But there is 
 a rich picturesque beauty in old roads and 
 
SUBJECTS OF SCENERY. 
 
 119 
 
 lanes, which ought to be studiously preserved, 
 and no further liberties be taken with them than 
 to render them convenient thoroughfares, only 
 smoothing the ruts and openings of the sides, 
 for views will often be all that is necessary. In 
 fact, an old lane, merely levelled and gravelled, 
 would often make the most picturesque, longest, 
 and cheapest walk in a shrubbery or wood, only 
 by leaving the banks and sides untouched, or 
 by dressing them in places, but with judgment . 
 — F. 
 
 * It is impossible that any person can either 
 walk, ride, or drive comfortably in a rutty road ; 
 for they cannot walk abreast in such roads, or 
 escape wet and dirty feet and legs. 1 he pic¬ 
 turesque principle, however, of such roads, may still 
 be retained. With this saving clause, the descrip¬ 
 tive, poetical beauty of the following passage in 
 Mr. Price, will gratify the lover of scenery. Speak¬ 
 ing of the studies which painters have often taken 
 from parts of old roads, Mr. Price writes thus : 
 
 “ Tn hollow lanes and bye-roads, all the leading 
 features, and a thousand circumstances of detail, 
 promote the natural intricacy of the ground : the 
 turns are sudden and unprepared : the banks some¬ 
 times broken and abrupt; sometimes smooth, and 
 gently, but not uniformly, sloping; now wildly 
 overhung with thickets of trees and bushes; now 
 
120 
 
 PICTURES GLUE SCENERY. 
 
 In a dressed lane , 'every effort of art seems 
 directed against the natural disposition of the 
 ground; the sides are so regularly sloped, so 
 
 loosely skirted with wood, no regular verge of grass, 
 no cut edges, no distinct line of separation; all is 
 mixed and blended together, and the varied lines, 
 described by foot-paths and wheel-tracks, mark the 
 way among trees and bushes ; often some obstacle, 
 a cluster of low thorns, a furze bush, a tussuck, 
 alters the way into sudden and intricate turns . 
 often a group of trees, or a thicket, occasions the 
 road to separate into two parts, leaving a sort of 
 island in the middle. These are a few of the pic¬ 
 turesque accidents which in lanes and bye-roads 
 attract the notice of painters. In many scenes of 
 that kind, the varieties of form, of colour, and of 
 light and shade, which present themselves at every 
 step, are numberless; and it is a singular circum¬ 
 stance, that some of the most striking among them 
 should be owing to the indiscriminate hacking of 
 the peasant, nay, to the very decay that is occa¬ 
 sioned by it. When opposed to the tameness of 
 the poor pinioned trees (whatever their age) of a 
 gentleman s plantation, drawn up straight and even 
 together, there is often a sort of spirit and anima¬ 
 tion in the manner in which old neglected pollards 
 stretch out their limbs quite across these hollow 
 roads in every wild and irregular direction. On 
 
SUBJECTS OF SCENERY. 121 
 
 regularly planted, and the space, when there is 
 any, between them and the road so uniformly 
 levelled, the sweeps of the road so plainly arti- 
 
 some, the large knots and protuberances add to the 
 ruggedness of their twisted trunks; in others, the 
 deep hollows of the inside, the mosses on the bark, 
 the rich yellow of the touchwood, with the black¬ 
 ness of the more decayed substance, afford such 
 a variety of tints, of brilliant and mellow lights, 
 with deep and peculiar shades, as the finest timber- 
 tree, however beautiful in other respects, with all 
 its health and vigour, cannot exhibit. This care¬ 
 less method of cutting just as the farmer happened 
 to want a few stakes or poles, gives infinite variety 
 to the general outline of the banks. Near to one 
 of these “ unwedgable and gnarled oaks,” often rises 
 the slender, elegant form of a young beech, ash, or 
 birch, that had escaped the axe, whose tender bark 
 and light foliage appears still more delicate and airy 
 when seen sideways against the rough bark and 
 massy head of the oak : sometimes it rises along 
 from the bank, sometimes amidst a cluster of rich 
 hollies, or wild junipers : sometimes its light and 
 upright stem is embraced by the projecting and 
 cedar-like boughs of the yew. 
 
 The ground itself in these lanes is as much varied 
 in form, tint, and light and shade, as the plants that 
 grow upon it; this, as usual, instead of owing any 
 G 
 
122 
 
 PICTURESQUE SCENERY. 
 
 ficial, the verges of grass that bound it so nicely 
 edged; the whole, in short, has such an ap¬ 
 pearance of having been made by a receipt, that 
 
 thing to art, is, on the contrary, occasioned by 
 accident and neglect. The winter torrents, in some 
 places, wash down the mould from the upper 
 grounds, and form projections of various shapes, 
 which, from the fatness of the soil, are generally 
 enriched with the most luxuriant vegetation; in 
 . other parts, they tear the banks into deep hollows, 
 discovering the different strata of earth, and the 
 • s ! ia ggy roots of trees: these hollows are frequently 
 overgrown with wild roses, with honeysuckles, pe¬ 
 riwinkles, and other trailing plants, which, with 
 their flowers and pendent branches, have quite a 
 different effect when hanging loosely over one of 
 these recesses, opposed to its deep shade, and 
 mixed with the fantastic roots of trees, and the 
 varied tints of the soil, from that which they pro¬ 
 duce when they are trimmed into bushes, or crawl 
 along a shrubbery, where the ground has been 
 worked into one uniform slope. Near the house, 
 picturesque beauty must, in many cases, be sacri¬ 
 ficed to neatness; but it is a sacrifice, and one 
 which should not wantonly be made. A gravel 
 walk cannot have the playful variety of a bye-road : 
 there must be a border to the gravel, and that and 
 the sweeps must, in a great measure, be regular, 
 
SUBJECTS OF SCENERY. 
 
 123 
 
 curiosity, a most active principle of pleasure, 
 is almost extinguished.— Price , i. 24. 
 
 A road is an artificial work of convenience, 
 and not a natural production. At one time it 
 has been displayed as the most ostentatious fea¬ 
 ture through the centre of a park, in the ser¬ 
 pentine line, described by the track of sheep; 
 at another, concealed between two hedges, or 
 in a deep chasm, between two banks, lest it 
 should be discovered; and in a place where 
 several roads have been brought together, a di¬ 
 rection-post has been placed within two hun- 
 
 and consequently formal. I am convinced, how¬ 
 ever, that many of the circumstances which give 
 variety and spirit to a wild spot, might be success¬ 
 fully imitated in a dressed place; but it must be 
 done by attending to the principles, not by copying 
 the particulars. It is not necessary to model a 
 gravel-walk, or drive, after a sheep-track, or a 
 cart-rut, though very useful hints may be taken 
 from them both ; and without having water-docks 
 or thistles before one’s door, their effect in a pain¬ 
 ter’s fore-ground may be produced by plants which 
 are considered as ornamental. I am equally per¬ 
 suaded, that a dressed appearance might be given to 
 one of these 1 lanes, without destroying its peculiar 
 and characteristic beauties.— Price , i. 34—30. 
 g 2 
 

 dred yards of the hall-door, as necessary to 
 point out the way to the house. The width of 
 a road must depend on its uses: if much fre¬ 
 quented, there should be always room for two 
 carriages to pass on the gravel; if little fre¬ 
 quented, the gravel may be narrower, but there 
 must be more room left on each side; yet we 
 often see the broadest verges of grass to the 
 broadest roads, where, in strict propriety, the 
 breadth should be in an inverse ratio. If a 
 corner projects too far into the road, the driver 
 will certainly go over it, unless preserved by 
 some obstacle; yet it never can be right to en¬ 
 danger safety by unnecessary obstacles.— JRepton , 
 212. See Approaches, p. 76, and Walks, 
 
 p. 137. 
 
 Romantic Scenery. The marks of habita¬ 
 tion must not be carried to the length of culti¬ 
 vation, and dark greens should predominate in 
 the wood.— Wheatley , 110. 
 
 Ruins. A paltry ruin is of no value: a 
 grand one is magnificent, and should be that of 
 a Castle, or Abbey,— Gilpin’s Northern Tour , 
 i. 67. 
 
 Straggling ruins are bad, unless there be one 
 large mass to form a centre of union for the 
 whole.— Wheatley , 131. 
 
SUBJECTS OF SCENERY. 125 
 
 Cracks and fragments should appear in the 
 walls, and among ruins : the shed of a cottager, 
 and a tree flourishing among them, add con¬ 
 trast and the idea of antiquity.— Wheatley , 135. 
 
 But smaller ruins, if backed by foliage of 
 many-tinted green, occasionally hidden, and 
 then bursting on the sight, may enrich the home 
 grounds: and Mr. Papworth has made a pic¬ 
 turesque dairy of a mock ruin of a church, or 
 chapel, and it is admirable for effect.— pi xi. 
 
 p . 68 . 
 
 Ruins are only picturesque when the whole 
 form, and its parts, are broken into irregulari¬ 
 ties ; the walls weather-stained, encrusted with 
 lichens and mosses, and variously tinted with 
 wild flowers; the windows and arches laced and 
 festooned with ivy; and the tops of the walls 
 planted with little twining bushes.— Gilpin. 
 
 Shrubbery. Sameness is the fault of shrub¬ 
 beries. The subject is exhausted.— Wheatley , 
 208. 
 
 Common narrow walks, if too long, are very 
 tiresome. They should be broken by openings 
 to admit little scenes to break the uniformity.— 
 Id. 209. 
 
 Walks should never have sudden turns. They 
 
126 
 
 PICTURESGIUE SCENERY. 
 
 must only wind so much, that the termination of 
 the view may differ at every step, and the end of 
 the walks never appear : the thickets, which con¬ 
 fine the view, should be diversified with several 
 mixtures of greens; no distinctions in the forms 
 of the shrubs or trees should be lost, when there 
 are opportunities to observe them so nearly; 
 and combinations and contrasts without number 
 may be made, which will be there truly orna¬ 
 mental. The ruin of such shrubberies is divi¬ 
 sion of them into slips, and making them only a 
 collection of walks.— Wheatley , 212. 
 
 Objects to fix the eye are needless in a scene 
 which may be comprehended in a glance.— 
 Id. 216. 
 
 For winter-walks, evergreens may be collected 
 into a wood; and through that wood gravel- 
 walks may be led along openings of a consider¬ 
 able breadth, free from large trees, which would 
 intercept the rays of the sun, and may wind in 
 such a manner as to avoid any draft of wind, 
 from whatever quarter it may blow. But when 
 a retreat at all times is thus secured, other 
 spots may be adapted only to occasional pur¬ 
 poses, and be sheltered towards the North or 
 the East on the one hand, while they are open 
 
SUBJECTS OF SCENERY. ‘ ~7 
 
 to the sun on the other. Walks should lead 
 to the green-house or conservatory.— Wheatley, 
 
 254, 255. 
 
 An object will appear more distant than it 
 really is, if different coloured evergreens be 
 planted between it and the eye. Suppose holly 
 and laurel, and the holly, which is of the deeper 
 colour, nearer the eye. The degradation of the 
 colour in the laurel makes it appear at a great 
 distance from the holly, and consequently re¬ 
 moves the object in appearance to a greater 
 distance than it really is .—Ekm. of Criticism, 
 i. 441. 
 
 Flowering shrubs should be planted near the 
 house. They are not suitable to the general 
 country, because they either produce a spotty 
 appearance, or otherwise disturb the general 
 harmony. Car lisle, 97. 
 
 The pleasure-garden being a work of art, and 
 in which art is avowedly directing nature, in 
 contradistinctional submission to her great mis¬ 
 tress in all other parts of the domain; the 
 canal, the basin, and the fountain, are legitimate 
 materials to the artist, provided he does not 
 violate the laws of fitness and propriety in the 
 use of them, and admits them only when de¬ 
 signed with taste.— Papworth, 61. 
 
128 
 
 PICTURESaUE SCENERY. 
 
 V _ % 
 
 Grottoes. The natural situation of grot-* 
 toes is at the end of woody vallies, near a run¬ 
 ning stream, with a grassy margin. 
 
 “ Vallis erat piceis, et acutA densa cupressu, 
 ******** 
 
 Cujus in extrenio est antrum nemorale recessu, 
 
 Arte laboratum null&; simulaverat artem, 
 
 Ingenio Natura suo; nam pumice vivo, 
 
 Et levibus tophis nativum duxerat arcum ; 
 
 Fons erat a dextr&, tenui perlucidus und&, 
 
 Margine gramineo patulos incinctus hiatus/* 
 
 Ovid's Met . L. iii. f Actceon. 
 
 Summer-houses and Alcoves should face the 
 north, in order to insure shade in the summer, 
 and look forward on the effects of sunshine be¬ 
 fore it, which would be augmented to the spec¬ 
 tator by being viewed from a shaded spot. This 
 circumstance should be attended to in all build¬ 
 ings of the flower-garden erected for alcoves, 
 not intended for the reception of plants.— 
 Papworth , 100. 
 
 Crarden-seats should be disposed with refer¬ 
 ence to the season of the year; some open to the 
 sun for spring and autumn, others with ample 
 shade and free ventilation for the summer.— Id , 
 100 . 
 
Marble statues are offensive in gardens, be¬ 
 cause of their whiteness; and, especially so 
 where there are no buildings nor architectural 
 ornaments near them; for, like other white ob¬ 
 jects, they make spots when placed amidst 
 verdure only; whereas the colour and substance 
 of stone or stucco, by assimilating with that ot 
 marble, takes off from a certain crudeness which 
 such statues are apt to give the idea of, when 
 placed alone among trees and shrubs.— Price, ii. 
 158. 
 
 Fountains and statues are exceedingly liable 
 to be introduced into gardens with impropriety; 
 but fountains may be introduced near a house, 
 on a large scale, with exact propriety.— Id. ii. 
 152. 156. 
 
 Temples. The barn-form and Dorick co¬ 
 lumns, is the best for temples; and the best 
 situation for them is partially within a wood. 
 — Wheatley , 129. 
 
 In our parks and gardens, Grecian temples 
 stand wholly unconnected with all that sur¬ 
 rounds them, and are mere unmeaning excres¬ 
 cences.— Knight , 170. 
 
 In Claude, not only ruins, but temples and 
 palaces, are often so mixed with trees, that the 
 g 5 
 
 A 
 
 m 
 
130 PICTURESGLUE SCENERY. 
 
 tops overhang their balustrades, and the luxu¬ 
 riant branches shoot between the openings of 
 their magnificent columns and porticoes; but 
 the modern practice is to exhibit the architectu¬ 
 ral characters.— Price, i. 18. 
 
 Terraces in gardens —merely walking up and 
 down stairs in the open air.— Id. ii. 101. 
 
 Thatch, certainly picturesque. — Id. ii. 340. 
 
 Towns. The best form of towns is when the 
 buildings advance or retire from the eye, accord¬ 
 ing to situation, while a happy mixture of trees 
 completes the whole.— Id. ii. 219. 
 
 lowers, domes, columns, open arches, clus¬ 
 ters of pillars, with all their finished ornaments, 
 or else the more pointed forms of Gothic splen¬ 
 dour and magnificence, are essential in views of 
 cities*— Id. ii. 120. 
 
 When a town built nearly on level ground is 
 viewed at a distance, the summits of the houses 
 are ol much less consequence, for they then 
 either disappear totally, or are so blended with 
 each other, that their shapes are scarcely distin¬ 
 guishable ; but in towns built upon hills, roofs 
 and chimnies become conspicuous objects.— Id. 
 221 . 
 
 Sloping roofs have been avoided by all the 
 
SUBJECTS OF SCENERY. 
 
 131 
 
 painters of cities, as destructive of magnificence 
 in cities and every assemblage of buildings. 
 Knight, ii. 817, 318. 
 
 Vales ; Vallies. Gilpin says, that the Welch 
 vales and vallies are the finest which he ever 
 saw. Cultivation is kept under by being blended 
 with wildness, and they certainly have the most 
 beautiful commixture of groves, promontories, 
 knolls, rivulets, water-falls, and rocks; cottages 
 and farms faintly traced along the sides at a dis¬ 
 tance, varying and enriching the scene; all toge¬ 
 ther forming an endless variety of landscapes by 
 the perpetual windings of the road, and all well 
 finished ofF by mountains in the distance. The 
 rocky valley is a scene of more singularity; and 
 Dove-dale (engraved in the frontispiece), says 
 Mr. Dayes (Picturesque Tour, p. 8 # ), “pos¬ 
 sesses a union of grandeur and beauty, not to be 
 equalled by any thing which he had ever seen.” 
 Dr. Clarke assimilates it to Tempe. 
 
 It is thus described by Wheatley: 
 
 “ The inexhaustible variety of nature is sel¬ 
 dom found within the same extent, as in Dove- 
 dale [near Ashbourne in Derbyshire]. It is 
 
 * This work may be recommended for its beau¬ 
 tiful and interesting engravings of highly pic- 
 turesque scenery. 
 
132 
 
 PlCTUIlESaUE SCENERY. 
 
 about two miles in length, a deep, narrow, hol¬ 
 low valley; both the sides are of rock; and the 
 Dove in its passage between them is perpetually 
 changing its course, its motion, and appearance. 
 It is never less than ten, nor so much as twenty 
 yards wide, and generally about four feet deep; 
 but transparent to the bottom, except when it is 
 covered with foam of the purest white, under 
 waterfalls, which are perfectly lucid. These are 
 very numerous, but very different. In some 
 places they stretch straight across, or aslant the 
 stream; in others they are only partial; and 
 the water either dashes against the stones and 
 leaps over them, or, pouring along a steep, re¬ 
 bounds upon those below : sometimes it rushes 
 through the several openings between them; 
 sometimes it drops gently down, and at other 
 times it is driven back by the obstruction, and 
 turns into an eddyi In one particular spot, the 
 valley almost closing, leaves hardly a passage for 
 the river, which, pent up and struggling for a 
 vent, rages and roars and foams till it has extri¬ 
 cated itseif from the confinement. In other parts, 
 the stream, though never languid, is often gen¬ 
 tle; flows round a little desart island, glides 
 between cists of bulrushes, disperses itself among 
 tufts of grass or of moss, bubbles about a water- 
 
SUBJECTS OF SCENERY. 
 
 133 
 
 dock, or plays with the slender threads of aqua¬ 
 tic plants, which float upon the surface. The 
 rocks all along the dale vary as often in their 
 structure as the stream in its motion; in one 
 place an extended surface gradually diminishes 
 from a broad base almost to an edge; in ano¬ 
 ther a heavy top hanging forwards, oversha¬ 
 dows all beneath; sometimes many different 
 shapes are confusedly tumbled together; and 
 sometimes they are broken into slender sharp 
 pinnacles, which rise upright often two or three 
 together, and often in more numerous clusters. 
 On this side of the dale they are universally 
 bare; on the other they are intermixed with 
 wood; and the vast height of both the sides, 
 with the narrowness of the interval between 
 them, produces a further variety; for, whenever 
 the sun shines from behind the one, the form of 
 it is distinctly and completely cast upon the 
 other; the rugged surface on which it falls di¬ 
 versifies the tints; and a strong reflected light 
 often glares on the edge of the deepest shadow. 
 The rocks never continue long in the same 
 figure or situation, and are very much separated 
 from eaeh other; sometimes they form the sides 
 of the valley, in precipices, in steeps, or in 
 stages; sometimes they seem to rise in the hot- 
 
Z/ 
 
 134 PICTURESQUE SCENERY. 
 
 tom, and lean back against the hill; and some¬ 
 times they stand out quite detached, heaving up 
 into cumbrous piles, or starting into conical 
 shapes, like vast spars, an hundred feet high; 
 some are firm and solid throughout; some are 
 cracked; and some, split and undermined, are 
 wonderfully upheld by fragments apparently 
 unequal to the weight which they sustain; one 
 is placed before, one over another ; and one fills, 
 at some distance behind, an interval between 
 two. The changes in their disposition are infi¬ 
 nite. Every step produces some new combina¬ 
 tion. They are continually crossing, advancing, 
 and retiring. The breadth of the valley is 
 never the same forty yards together. At the 
 narrow pass, which has been mentioned, the 
 rocks almost meet at the top, and the sky is 
 seen as through a chink between them, till a 
 rock, far behind them, closes the perspective. 
 The noise of the cascades in the river echoes 
 amongst them. The water may often be heard 
 at the same time gurgling near, and roaring at 
 a distance; but no other sounds disturb the 
 silence of the spot; the only trace of men is a 
 blind path, but lightly and but seldom trodden 
 by those whom curiosity leads to see the wonders 
 they have been told of Dove-dale. It seems, 
 
SUBJECTS OF SCENERY. 135 
 
 indeed, a fitter haunt for mere ideal beings ; the 
 whole has the air of enchantment; the perpetual 
 shifting of the scenes, the quick transitions, 
 the total changes; then {he forms all around, 
 grotesque as chance can cast, wild as nature can 
 produce, and various as imagination can invent; 
 the force which seems to have been exerted to 
 place some of the rocks where they are now 
 fixed, immovable; the magic by which others 
 appear still to be suspended; the dark caverns; 
 the illuminated recesses; the fleeting shadows, 
 and gleams of light glancing on the sides, or 
 trembling on the stream; and the loneliness and 
 the stillness of the place, all crowding together 
 on the mind, almost realize the ideas which na¬ 
 turally present themselves in this region of 
 romance and of fancy.”— T\ heatley^ 111 115. 
 
 Villages are easily susceptible of improve¬ 
 ment. 
 
 Villages on rising ground . One cottage may 
 be placed on the edge of a steep, and some 
 winding steps of unhewn stone lead up to the 
 door; another into a hollow, with all its little 
 appurtenances hanging above it. The position 
 of a few trees will sometimes answer the same 
 purpose; a foot-bridge here and there for a 
 communication between the sides of a narrow 
 dip, will add to the character ; and if there be 
 
PICTURESGIUE SCENERY. 
 
 any rills, they may be conducted so as greatly 
 to improve it.— Wheatley , 231; 
 
 Ullages on flats. The larger intervals be¬ 
 tween the houses may be filled with open groves, 
 and little clumps may be introduced upon other 
 occasions. The church may be made pictu¬ 
 resque, the cottages neat, and sometimes grouped 
 with thickets. If there be a stream, the cross¬ 
 ings may be in a variety of pleasing designs; 
 and simple and pretty coverings may be thrown 
 over wells and springs; even a small alteration 
 in a house may occasion a great difference in 
 the appearance. A few trifling plantations may 
 assist objects which have a good effect, or dis¬ 
 guise those which have not; and the forms 
 offensive to the eye, whether of ground, trees, or 
 buildings, may sometimes be broken by an ad¬ 
 vanced paling, or only by a bench.— Id. 132. 
 
 Villages in streets may be grouped into a mass 
 by plantations outside of them.— Id. 233. 
 
 Should a person choose to preserve the look 
 of a farm or hamlet, but wish at the same time to 
 improve the general mass, any building of a 
 good form, rising higher than the rest from 
 amidst them, would probably answer that pur¬ 
 pose, and serve at once both to vary and unite 
 the whole group, especially with the aid of a few 
 
137 
 
 SUBJECTS OF SCENERY. 
 
 trees judiciously planted. Sometimes a person, 
 with great property all around, may have only a 
 small piece of ground in such a hamlet, and be 
 unable to purchase any more. Such a building 
 as that described might do all that a lover of 
 painting would wish for, and give him a sort of 
 property in the whole.— Price , ii. 313, 314. 
 
 Towns and cities, from their necessary con¬ 
 nection with symmetry, architecture, and regu¬ 
 larity, require streets and squares, but nothing 
 can be more insipid than to make the houses of 
 villages of the same form and shape, and place 
 them in parallel lines, and at equal distances 
 from each other. Symmetry, which is essential 
 to all the higher styles of architecture, is not 
 suited to humble scenes and buildings. Ihere 
 the picturesque should prevail.— Id. ii. 346. 350. 
 See Cottages, Brooks. 
 
 Walks ; Paths, If a comfortable and conve¬ 
 nient walk or ride can be so conducted through 
 wood or forest scenery, as to appear a mere sheep- 
 track or accidental opening, it will be the more 
 pleasing to the imagination; but if it is to go 
 along the sides of banks or other grounds, so 
 formed that a convenient road must necessarily 
 be the work oi labour and art, it had better avow 
 its character boldly, and stand forth as an artifi- 
 
cial terrace or shelf, than bunglingly attempt to 
 hide it in the broken banks and unequal sides of 
 an accidental slip: for such breaks and inequa- p 
 
 lities, if natural or accidental, would also extend ^ 
 
 to the surface, and completely disqualify it for 1 
 
 the use to which it is appropriated. Where the b 
 
 ground is rocky, indeed rugged and unequal 
 banks may be obtained by breaking instead of 
 
 hewing the stone to be removed ; and this may 
 almost always be done with good effect; but if the 
 terrace or walk be to be formed out of mere earth, 
 irregularities and inequalities will always appear 
 either affected or slovenly.— Knight, 230, 231. 
 
 In making curved paths in ornamental 
 grounds, we should imitate nature, as to the 
 manner she observes in the course of rivulets, 
 the paths of sheep and other animals, tracks 
 across grounds, &c.; but up hills bolder curves 
 are allowable.— Mason*s Engl. Garden . 
 
 In the garden scene at Blenheim the gravel- 
 walk appears in great perfection; the sweeps 
 fire large, easy, and well taken; and though in 
 wild and romantic parts such artificial bends 
 destroy the character of the scenery, yet in 
 shrubberies, where there must be regular bor¬ 
 ders to the walks, an attention to the different 
 curves is indispensable; for of cork-screw walks, 
 
 1 t 
 
 i k f 
 
SUBJECTS OF SCENERY. 139 
 
 Brown used so say justly, that you might put 
 one foot upon zig, and the other upon zag. In 
 regard to the walks at Blenheim, another cii- 
 cumstance, though minute,, adds to their peifec 
 tion ; they are so artfully laid, that the surface 
 becomes a sort of Mosaic, and notwithstanding 
 their inherent defects, they add a higher polish 
 to that beautiful garden seen e.—Price, ii. 149— 
 
 151. 
 
 Walks and drives are necessarily the means 
 l,y which the spectator is brought to view suc¬ 
 cessively, the different scenes that are prepared 
 for him, and the course of the walks is to be 
 directed to the best points of view, and the 
 effects of variety. The effects and benefits of 
 sun and shade must both be regarded; m the 
 heat of the day, tire refreshing coolness of the j 
 
 latter should be secured, and all the opportuni¬ 
 ties of sunshine be obtained against the chill 
 hours of morning and evening, and of spring 
 and autumn.— Papivorth, 97. 
 
 The rules concerning paths are these: 
 
 Paths should not be seen to cross the lawn 
 
140 
 
 PICTURESQUE SCENERY. 
 
 They should not seem to divide portions of 
 lawn or shrubbery into equal parts. 
 
 They should not be quickly sinuous without 
 sufficient cause, and in all cases, connected 
 curves should be unlike each other in extent and 
 compass. The whole of two or more curves 
 should not be visible at the same view. 
 
 Paths which are parallel, or which appear to 
 be so, should not be seen at the same time. 
 
 They should be well drained, and particu¬ 
 larly so where the ground is sloping. 
 
 1 hey should not ascend rising ground abrupt¬ 
 ly, but inclinedly. 
 
 Walks should always have an outlet, and oc¬ 
 casionally diverge into ramifications, so that 
 visitors shall not be obliged to return by the 
 path they went, or to join society when they 
 would choose to be private.— Papworth, 99. 
 
 Gravel walks must be separated from beds of 
 flowers or plantations by a border or verge; 
 where the labour to the soil is frequent, as in 
 flower beds and the kitchen garden, box is the 
 favourite edging; but to plantation paths, the 
 \erge should be of grass, from fifteen to twenty- 
 four inches in width, where they are not con¬ 
 nected with portions of lawn: but otherwise, if 
 it can be so distributed, the path should seem to 
 
SUBJECTS OF SCENERY. 141 
 
 be inlaid upon the lawn itself, skirting its area, 
 and separating it into occasional bays, and 
 avoiding the objectionable parallel lines, which 
 otherwise belong to grass verges.— Papworth , 99. 
 
 Grass walks require a greater depth of bor¬ 
 der, and more richness of decoration, than a 
 gravel walk.— Wheatley , 207. 
 
 Grass walks are suited to spacious avenues, or 
 diverging branches from principal gravel walks, 
 and for summer terraces. They should be 
 wide, that the footstep may not be constrained 
 to form a beaten path, and they should be bound¬ 
 ed by dwarf shrubberies, separating them from 
 the overhanging branches of larger trees, that 
 they may avoid the injurious consequences of 
 their drip. Great care should also be taken to 
 keep them mown and rolled for the purpose of 
 having them smooth and even, and permitting 
 to evaporate speedily the damps which it maj 
 have received by rain or dews. There should 
 also be laid betw een the soil and the turf, a bed 
 of lime and smith’s ashes, or other sufficient 
 means to prevent the occurrence of w orm-casts 
 upon them; for without this precaution they 
 become unpleasant to walk upon, unsightly, and 
 very troublesome to the gardener. Papworth , 
 99. 
 
? ■ k J $|ffe i ■. m 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 • ( * ‘ ' ■ * 
 
 . 
 
 
 
PART II. 
 
 ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 Earthworks.—Rude Stoneworks. 
 
 Barrows, (i.) Funereal. The oblong and 
 the round, with bases of Cyclopean masonry, the 
 most ancient. Size determines the rank of the 
 deceased, when Greek or Roman, [and pro¬ 
 bably among ourselves, for at Churcham, co. 
 Warwick, upon the Watling-street, is a barrow 
 so large, that it makes passengers turn out of 
 the high road.— Dugd. Warw. p. 11]. Barrows 
 in Greece (PolyandriaJ, indicative of battles, 
 (ii.) Not funereal 1. Barrows of Honour, or 
 Cenotaphs. 2. Commemorative of great events. 
 3. For marking distances, small, and on sides of 
 roads. 4. Hill Altars. 5. For sports. 6. Er- 
 maice, or Tumuli Mercuriales, attached to altars 
 of Mercury *. 7. In camps, for reconnoissance 
 
 * This Mercury was Teutates. (See Eusebius.j 
 Livy says, “ Scipio in Tumulum obversus, quern 
 
144 
 
 ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 used in towns, which grew out of stations, for 
 the public business of the inhabitants. 
 
 Barrows. 
 
 1. With cistvaens, urns, cups, beads, weapons 
 in wooden scabbards, bosses of shields, &c. 
 British. 2. Campaniform, in clusters, without 
 any remains of cloaths. Anglo Saxon. 3. Danish. 
 None, except where there were no stones to 
 make pyramids or obelisks. (See Dugd. Warw. 
 p. 3. 1st edit.) 
 
 Sir R. C. Hoare’s rules for determining the 
 aeras of British Barrows are as follow : 
 
 1. By a road, or ditch, making a curve to 
 avoid them. 2. By having nothing of metal in 
 them. 3. By deep interments. 4. By the body 
 in a cist, with the legs drawn up. This is the 
 oldest aera. 
 
 The second aera, the body prostrate, accom¬ 
 panied with articles of brass and iron. 
 
 The third aera, interment by cremation, with 
 the bones deposited in a cist cut in the chalk. 
 
 The fourth aera, ashes, or bones, deposited in 
 an urn. Romanized Britons are distinguished 
 
 Mercurium Teutatem appellant.” Mercury, as 
 Teutates, was much worshipped by the Britons and 
 Gauls. 
 
EARTHWORKS. 
 
 145 
 
 by superior utensils, such as iron knives, bone 
 handles, urns turned in lathes, &c. 
 
 Banks and Ditches. —These are common 
 to all nations. 
 
 1. Of capricious outline, connected with camps 
 or earthworks. Wandsdike. 
 
 2. A vallum between two ditches, with artifi¬ 
 cial mounts or forts along the course. Offa’s 
 Dyke . 
 
 3. Covered way between ditches communi¬ 
 cating with some strong hold. British. —To 
 connect a village with its fortress. British also. 
 
 4. Numerous ditches together always con¬ 
 nected with British settlements. 
 
 5. Across an isthmus of projecting land. 
 British , Anglo-Saxon , and Danish . 
 
 6. As lines of circumvallation, common to all 
 nations and seras. 
 
 7. Foss and bank for spectators, as at Abury. 
 
 8. Banks around stone-circles for the Dea- 
 suil , or Druidical perambulation. 
 
 .Cairns and Carnedhs.— Not sepulchral; 
 mere barrows of memorials. (Sir R. C. Hoare. J 
 At all events, only barrows made with stones ; 
 commemorative of chieftains who fell in battle, 
 and, if perfect, a large stone placed endwise at a 
 few yards distance. 
 
146 
 
 ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 
 Castrametation. 
 
 1. Equilateral, or oblong square. Sometimes 
 with two valla entrances at the point of the com¬ 
 pass. A Praetorium in or near the centre. In¬ 
 terior level. Roman*. The higher the vallum 
 the more ancient. 
 
 2. Promontories, or projecting hills; valla 
 across the isthmus. British , Anglo-Saxon , Da¬ 
 nish. 
 
 3. Hills cut into terraces winding to the sum¬ 
 mit. British. 
 
 4. Elevations with triple ramparts. British . 
 
 5. Hills, reticulated or irregularly hooped 
 with walls, full of cells, the chieftain’s residence 
 on the summit. British. 
 
 6. Elevations, with capricious or irregular 
 valla. British . 
 
 7. Camps, combining heterogeneous cha¬ 
 racteristics; British, occupied by Romans or 
 Saxons ; Roman, occupied by Saxons, &c. 
 
 8. Valla, forming two or more parts of a 
 
 * Vegetius makes the form of the outline indif¬ 
 ferent ; but as he wrote in the fourth century, and 
 just before the Roman evacuation of Britain, it is 
 utterly improbable that there were any camps of 
 that aera made in England. 
 
 
EARTHWORKS. 147 
 
 circle surrounding another vallum, with higher 
 ground, also circular. Pure Anglo-Saxon *. 
 
 * In my opinion, the Earthwork at Eaton, co. 
 Bedfordshire, taken from King’s Monumenta Anti- 
 qua, iii. 26 5, and re-printed in the Gentleman’s Ma¬ 
 gazine for 1804 (vol. lxxiv. pp. 939, 940) is a cor¬ 
 rect delineation of an undoubted Anglo-Saxon 
 camp. “ The form, though very irregular, ap¬ 
 proaches somewhat to that of a semicircle, having 
 the river for its diameter. It is on all sides, except 
 this diametrical side next the river, surrounded by 
 two complete ditches, the outermost fosse being 
 more perfect than usual, and the innermost ex¬ 
 ceeding deep, and there being a pretty broad plain 
 level between the two, higher than the adjacent 
 country, whilst within the innermost fosse, not only 
 the interior vallum, but also the whole space of 
 ground rises higher still , quite contrary to the ap¬ 
 pearance of any Roman camps; and not far from 
 the middle, rather approaching towards the S. E. 
 corner next the river, is a sort of mount, raised 
 considerably above all the rest , which commands the 
 whole adjacent level country, and from whence is 
 now a fine view of St. Neot’s. There are not four 
 entrances, as in Roman camps, but one only, and 
 that narrow and passing straight forward over both 
 ditches on the West side opposite the river. Some¬ 
 what similar is Brent Knoll, Somerset, ascribed to 
 Alfred. Several double intrenchments, in different 
 H 2 
 
148 
 
 ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 9. Circular valla round the tops of hills, with 
 
 parts of the kingdom, may most justly be ascribed 
 to the Saxons.” Brent Knoll alluded to, is a double 
 irregular work. [Gough's Camd. i. 74.) Strutt 
 says thus: The Romans threw up high valiums 
 only; but the Saxons raised the whole surface of 
 their stations above the common level of the earth 
 in the shape of a keep, or low, flat hill, and this 
 keep, instead of banks of earth, was surrounded 
 by a strong, thick wall, within which were built 
 the stations for soldiers, &c. Around the whole 
 work was made a deep, broad ditch, encompassed 
 with a strong vallum of earth, on which was built 
 an exterior wall, turreted after the Roman fashion. 
 ( Horda , i. 24.) Thus it appears, that Saxon 
 camps consisted of double or more works, the 
 inner commanding the outer, i. e. when they throw 
 up camps de novo: but it appears that they occu¬ 
 pied both British and Roman camps, and then the 
 alterations form those irregularities, which puzzle 
 the antiquary. Sir R. C. Hoare, a very high au¬ 
 thority, says, “ Whenever we find very strong 
 and elevated ramparts, and deep ditches , with ad¬ 
 vanced outworks , such as are at Bratton, battle- 
 bury, Scratclibury, Yarnbury, Chedbury, Barbury, 
 Oldbury, &c. we may, without hesitation, attribute 
 these camps to the Belgick. or Saxon sera; for 
 neither the Britons, nor the Romans, had recourse 
 to old ramparts.”-— Anc. Wilts , ii. 107, 108. 
 
EARTHWORKS. 
 
 watering branches carried down to a river. 
 Danish . 
 
 Earthworks, various . 
 
 1. Elevated keep and oblong outwork, pr- 
 pose unknown, but probably the fort of a Bri¬ 
 tish village, as they frequently occur m Wales. 
 
 2. Oval or round pits with high banks, all of 
 turf. Castrensian Amphitheatres. 
 
 3. Squares, with high ramparts and a single 
 entrance. Roman Castella. Outposts to camps. 
 
 4. Small intrenchments, used for Hundred 
 Courts. 
 
 5. Small hills cut into terraces. Anglo-Saxon 
 Forts. 
 
 6. Mounts, surrounded by theses, thrown up 
 for fortifications, and deemed of great moment 
 if the ditches could be inundated. 
 
 7. Hemispherical mounds, with some stones 
 on end around the base. The Motes of Scot¬ 
 land. Presumed Courts of Justice. 
 
 8. Horses cut in turf. Supposed memorials 
 of successful battles. 
 
 9. Labyrinths; Mazes. In England they 
 have often the appearance of large Barrows. 
 Pliny mentions boys making them. 
 
 10. Entrenched eminences near camps. The 
 Disgwolfa , where a guard of observation was 
 placed. 
 
150 
 
 ANTIQXTITIES. 
 
 11. Long cylindrical hollows, with round 
 ends; the British Cursus from the Greek Sta¬ 
 dium. The latter adjoined the Theatre. 
 
 1^* Hiding-pits of the Britons. Holes large 
 enough to contain one person sitting, the top 
 being covered with a broad stone, earth, &c. 
 — King. 
 
 13. Circles, the foss inside, sometimes two 
 or more connected by a covered way; appen¬ 
 dages to British villages, for civil or religious 
 purposes. Found also in Greece (Walpole) 
 and America. (Hodgson.) 
 
 Roads. 
 
 !• Paved, quite ancient. Over rocks, cu¬ 
 riously hewn into channels. Paved with large 
 square flags, unlike those of the Romans, which 
 were polygons. Grecian. (Dodwell , ii. 208— 
 434.) The Romans had various sorts of roads. 
 Consular , Prcetorian , or Military , the grand 
 roads; Vicinal , the cross roads; Semite , a foot¬ 
 path; Callis , a bridle-road; Actus , four feet 
 broad, for beasts of burden, or simple carriages; 
 Jter, two feet, for men only; Vice , eight feet, 
 for carriages to pass. Roman highways are 
 straight from military rules, except where hills 
 compel a deviation. They are over low grounds, 
 causeways. Tumuli occur upon the line. Some- 
 
EARTHWORKS 
 
 times a deep trench, with a vallum on each 
 side, marks the course of die causeway, and in 
 descending hills they take the form of a terrace, 
 with a parapet next the precipice. W here Ro¬ 
 man roads have not the causeway-aspect, they 
 were originally, perhaps, like the oss aIlc 
 Ikenild-streets, British trackways adopted by 
 the conquerors. A straight line for a consider¬ 
 able distance is a sure denotation of a Roman 
 road. The Vicinal ways cross at right ang es, 
 
 do not wind. , . 
 
 British Trackways are the old roads before 
 the Roman Invasion. Paved, gravelled, cause- 
 way-formed roads or elevated streets were then 
 utterly unknown. The trackways, still remem¬ 
 bered bv the name of portways and ndgetvays, 
 had no basis but the verdant turf. Sometimes 
 they are terraces. Instead of keeping a straight 
 line, they wind along the top or sides of the 
 chains of hills, which lie in their way. lhey 
 are generally attended by tumuli, and vestiges 
 of villages and settlements, which are placed on 
 their sides; some at the very crossing of two 
 trackways. During their course they very fre¬ 
 quently throw off branches, which, after running 
 parallel for miles, are again united with the 
 original stem. New Roman roads often run 
 
 i ! I 
 
152 
 
 ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 parallel with these trackways. Whenever an 
 old road exists, by means of which a person 
 might travel from one side of a county to 
 another, in continuation, it may be presumed to 
 have been an old British trackway. 
 
 Anglo-Saxon Roads. The old Roman roads 
 were called the Military-ways; the British track- 
 ways, the country roads. The highways were 
 distinguished by one waggon’s-way, 4 feet broad, 
 and two waggon’s-way, probably eight feet or 
 more, whence came our modern village-roads. 
 
 Stations, Roman. The following rules must 
 be strictly observed: Roman roads must be at 
 01 near it, or lead to or from it; or all the bye- 
 roads or lanes about it must be straight; or the 
 roads must point to it on all sides. No atten¬ 
 tion is to be paid to mere etymology, but the 
 appellations Bury Hill , or Brill , Street, Stone , 
 Stretton ; the termination Cester, Week, or Wick, 
 Cold Harbour, Sam (in W ales), are indicative 
 terms. The intersection of great roads, bar- 
 rows placed at certain intervals, four streets 
 crossing each other at right angles, N. E. W. 
 and S., a Roman road running through, are 
 further denotations. Mere coins and articles 
 excavated prove only habitancy ; for a station, 
 the above adjuncts are necessary, as well as com- 
 
earthworks. 
 
 153 
 
 parison with the Itineraries, by the intermediate 
 distances from other known stations; but these 
 distances should be measured by the line of the 
 old Roman roads, not those now used. The 
 Itineraries did not take the nearest ways, only 
 those where the high roads existed. 
 
 Towns, Settlements , and Villages. The Bri¬ 
 tons had no walled towns before the Roman 
 conquest. 
 
 The favourite sites of Celtick towns were 
 Ling nee, or promontories on the sea shore, with 
 gentle declivities, not accessible on foot at high 
 water. The high lands were first occupied by the 
 British inhabitants; after the Roman conquest 
 the vales. Sometimes settlements appear on the 
 sides of hills, or occupy the declivities between 
 two hills, or are seated at the intersection ot 
 two ancient trackways. They are of various 
 forms, and are known, by numerous slight banks 
 dividing the ground into unequal parcels; bar- 
 rows in the vicinity; excavations of very old 
 and rude pottery; and covered ways communi¬ 
 cating with strong holds; and banks and ditches 
 as lines of communication from one village to 
 another. Articles of iron, pottery ot a parti¬ 
 cular kind, flues, glass, and coins distinguish 
 Roman-British settlements. Broad-headed iron 
 h 5 
 
154 
 
 ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 nails, and a sheltered situation, are peculiar tests 
 of recent date. 
 
 “ Whenever (says Sir R. C. Hoare) we tra¬ 
 verse these elevated and dreary regions (the 
 Wiltshire Downs, and find the ground unna¬ 
 turally excavated,) and a black rich soil turned 
 up by the moles, we may there safely fix upon 
 a British settlement.” 
 
 In short, British settlements appear to have 
 been an irregular connection of huts and patches 
 of ground, communicating by covered ways 
 with a strong hold (where sometimes was the 
 residence of the Chieftain), and accompanied 
 with a stone circle, or (where there was no 
 stone) aji inclosure within a vallum, by way of 
 Church, and Barrows for burial-places .—Sir JR, 
 C, Hoare . 
 
 The towns, when they were seated amidst 
 marshes, appear to have been fortresses. Such 
 as were Old Lincoln, and Grampound, in Ma- 
 naton, co. Devon, a circular inclosure of about 
 three acres, surrounded by a low vallum of loose 
 stones, the remains of a wall, and entered by 
 two apertures opposite to each other, North and 
 South. 
 
 Homan Towns . Oblong squares, with four 
 streets in the form of a cross, E. W. N. and S. 
 
earthworks. 
 
 155 
 
 Traces of this fashion still appear m many 
 English towns, originally stations. 
 
 Anglo-Saxon, Norman, and English fawns. 
 The Britons and Northern nations knew nothing 
 of streets. Anglo-Saxon towns were placed 
 near a river, bordered on one side with lulls and 
 woods, on the other with meadows. To royal 
 seats, forests were annexed. Some towns (to 
 omit those created by Roman stations) were 
 formed around castles; others around monas¬ 
 teries. The sites of others were dictated In¬ 
 convenience for commerce, through rivers, ports, 
 hio-h roads, manufactories, central distances, am 
 circumstances which are of themselves apparent. 
 A peculiarity attaches to several ancient towns, 
 which stood upon hills, where there are, or were, 
 castles, viz. a very steep, straight ascent, origi¬ 
 nally protected by a gate. Whitaker notices it 
 at Richmond in Yorkshire; and Ludlow is a 
 fine instance. A narrow bridge crosses the 
 river, and just beyond is agate, opening to a 
 street, of great steepness, and quite straight. 
 All this was founded upon military principles, 
 and implies towns which grew out of garrisons, 
 or castles, or warlike considerations. It may 
 also be presumed that towns, where there are 
 mounts, upon which stood a keep, are of Ang o- 
 
156 
 
 ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 Saxon origin ; for the castles of these, our early 
 ancestors, were rare, and all which are known of 
 the Britons and them (where the natural soil 
 was level) stood upon mounts of earth; whereas, 
 such adjuncts were not indispensable additions 
 to Norman fabrics. A tongue of land, peninsu- 
 lated by a river, is a very strong characteristic 
 of an ancient town, not of Roman origin, for 
 the sites of these are plateaux of rising ground, 
 or gentle knolls, surrounded by distant heights. 
 The long street of houses denotes a town 
 created by convenience. 
 
 Remnants of town walls and gates are not un¬ 
 common. The motive, where they inclosed 
 little more than the market-place (as at Rich¬ 
 mond), is evident. They generally consist of 
 demi-bastions (that the enemy might derive no 
 protection if he got within) and embattled walls 
 between, with a shelf or ledge to stand upon. 
 The gates have often statues, or coats of arms 
 upon them. Among the Romans, statues of 
 the gods were at first placed, in order to render 
 them sacred, but afterwards, figures of the Em¬ 
 perors were substituted, from whence came the 
 practice of putting up the arms of princes to 
 whom the towns belonged. 
 
EARTHWORKS. 
 
 157 
 
 Stoneworks. 
 
 Caves. 1. The first habitations and temples. 
 
 2. With nitches, votive tablets, inscriptions, and 
 sometimes stationary ladders, made by holes cut 
 in the rocks, Paneia, or Nymphcea. 3. Ergas- 
 tula, or Prisons. 4, Druidicai. 5. Sepulchral 
 or Spelaea. 6. Baths. 7. Residences of the 
 Ancient Britons. 
 
 Cavern Temples. For the Mithriacal Wor- 
 ship. Mausolea. 
 
 Single stones standing erect. 1. Cippi, in¬ 
 scribed for mile-stones. 2. With epitaphs, to 
 mark a burial-place. 3. For boundaries. 4. 
 For memorials of remarkable events. 5. Used 
 by the Britons to mark a spot where a chieftain 
 fell. 6. One or two at the end ol a long bar- 
 
 row-like grave. Danish. 
 
 Stone circles. In Homer, courts of judicature. 
 Druidicai temples; those of unhewn stone the 
 oldest. 
 
 Cistvaens. Three or four stones placed edge¬ 
 ways, covered by another at top; found under 
 barrows. 
 
 Cromlechs. Flat stones standing upon others, 
 like a table tomb, or round top stones resting 
 upon others. The former is the most ancient. 
 
 Garseddau. A copped heap of stones, upon 
 which sat the Arch-druid in judgment. Adja- 
 
158 
 
 ANTI&U1TIES. 
 
 cent to it was a Brin-gwyn, or circular hollow, 
 surrounded with an immense agger, a stone 
 circle and cromlech. 
 
 Maen-Hir, Meini-Horion, Meini-Gwyr. 
 Large stone cippi, set upright, sometimes two or 
 more adjacent. British pillars of memorial 
 
 Maen-SigL See Rocking-stone . 
 
 Mont-joye. An appellation given to little 
 hills, where the Saints suffered martyrdom, or 
 which were laid together by pilgrims, when in 
 view of the end of their journey. Crosses were 
 erected on them. 
 
 Rocking-stones. Natural rocks, apparently 
 cut away below till they tottered. They are 
 presumed to have been used by the Druids, for 
 divination ; especially according to Ossian, for 
 determining the fate of battles. That they were 
 superstitiously used, is attested by one being 
 surrounded with a foss, a narrow path leading to 
 it, and other indicia. 
 
 Tolmen. Stones, with holes in them, through 
 which diseased persons were drawn in order to 
 be cured. Druidical 
 
 # i: 
 
159 
 
 ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 Cyclopean Styles. 
 
 Cyclopean Masonry. By this term is un¬ 
 derstood the Greek masonry, which obtained in 
 the Heroic ages. The enormous size of the 
 blocks distinguishes it from the later styles. The 
 antiquity of buildings in Greece is determined 
 by the existence or absence of Cyclopean ma¬ 
 sonry, in one or other of its forms. 
 
 I. The two oldest styles have no courses. The 
 earliest is the (1) Insterstitial, huge irregular 
 blocks, with small stones in the interstices. (2.) 
 The next in date is the Polygonal , or polygons , 
 nicely fitting together. This style is presume*-, 
 to have been disused about the time of Alex- 
 antler. 
 
IGO 
 
 ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 II. The next styles have courses # . 1. Inci¬ 
 
 pient , or imperfect courses —The stones laid in 
 horizontal courses, hut the latter deviating from 
 a right line, the joints frequently perpendicular. 
 
 2. Stones only equal in height, unequal in size. 
 
 3. Stones squared and rectangular, courses hori¬ 
 zontal, but differing in height. 4. Triple-row 
 courses. Three rows of stones, forming a course, 
 the upper and lower extremities of which are 
 parallel. 5. Perpendicular-looking courses. Ho¬ 
 rizontal courses, but in which the perpendicular 
 only begins to appear. 6. Long flat-stoned, 
 courses. Long and flat stones in imperfect 
 courses, not much anterior to the age of Epami- 
 nondas. 
 
 Greek later Masonry. 
 
 1. Large blocks distinguish ancient from mo¬ 
 dern building. 
 
 2. The Emplecton of Vitruvius, viz. small 
 stones and cement, coated with hewn stones. 
 
 3. The Insertum of Vitruvius, small polygons. 
 
 4. Monuments of brick, cased with marble, 
 are not exclusively Roman. They occur in 
 Greece. 
 
 * The definition of Mr. Hamilton, Col. Squire, 
 &c. appear too vague and sweeping. I have there¬ 
 fore made additions from Sir William Gell’s Ithaca. 
 
ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 161 
 
 5. Pseudisodomum. See English Masonry. 
 Roman Masonry. 1. Marble, used for 
 building, Asiatic in origin, commences 720 years 
 before Christ; in leaves upon walls, at the end 
 of the Roman Republic; stained, under Clau¬ 
 dius ; covered with gold, put in coloured com¬ 
 partments, diversified, spotted, and ornamented 
 with flowers and animals, under Nero. 
 
 The external distinctions of Roman work are 
 these: 
 
 1. Mattoni, reticulated plaster facing. 2. 
 Three feet triple courses. To every three feet of 
 cement (i. e. stones and mortar) three courses of 
 bricks. 3. Three feet single course. A single 
 course of brick to every two or three feet of 
 cement, or pebbles. 4. Irregular stones. 5. 
 Large squared stone courses, locking in small 
 squared stones. 6. Riempiuta, or Coffer-work. 
 Mortar and all sorts of stones in mass, bound 
 with transverse partitions or without, made within 
 boxes of planking afterwards removed. 7. Spi- 
 cata testacea or Herring-hone work, bricks or 
 stones, laid on the edges like wheat-ears. 8. 
 Rag-stone ligature, flat rag-stone ligatures, in¬ 
 stead of bricks. 9. Hewn stone facings, interior 
 grout work or rubbish. 
 
 ’ English Masonry. The early the same in 
 
162 
 
 ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 all points as the Roman work, mentioned by 
 Vitruvius. The style which was very much 
 used from the Saxon times to the reign of 
 Henry VI. was the Pseudisodomum , squared 
 stones, only at the angles, doors, and windows, 
 a practice where flat rag-stones were scarce, the 
 walls being made of these, eked out with mor¬ 
 tar. The Emplecton was also common. 
 
 Bricks. Unburnt in Egypt, Babylon, 
 Greece, and first houses of Rome; in the latter 
 afterwards kiln-baked. The sorts of Roman 
 bricks were, the Bipeda , two Roman feet long; 
 the Lidoron , about six inches long and one 
 broad, and the kite-shaped triangular, or qua¬ 
 drant, formed for columns, four making a circle. 
 Inscribed, and with bas-reliefs, Babylonian, 
 Roman, and Mediaeval. Our earliest bricks 
 were called wall-tiles. The old bricks are 
 larger than the modern. They were used by 
 the Saxons only in windows and coins, accord¬ 
 ing to Strutt; and till the 15th century were 
 called wall-tiles . Buildings, purely of brick, do 
 not appear in this country before the end of 
 the fourteenth or beginning of the fifteenth cen¬ 
 tury. The art of making bricks, as now prac¬ 
 tised, is said to be an invention of Sir Richard 
 Crispe, temp. Charles I. 
 
architecture. 
 
 163 
 
 Tiles. Greek of marble, two kinds, flat 
 pieces, and Harmi, or prisms, formed to cover 
 joints. Tiles, even of gold, but more often of 
 bronze gilt, mentioned in inscriptions. Shingles, 
 or wooden tiles, the only sort used by the Ro¬ 
 mans till 470 U. C. Afterwards two forms of 
 tiles were used: the Imbrese, placed in regular 
 rows to receive the shower; and the Tegula , 
 which covered, and prevented the rain from 
 penetrating the joints. The latter were finished 
 at the eaves with upright ornaments, which were 
 repeated at the junctions of these tiles along the 
 ridges. These ornaments are called by Pliny 
 Personae. He refers their invention to Dibu- 
 tades, a Sicyonian potter, who called them pro- 
 types, being stamped in front only. Those upon 
 the ridges, and worked on all sides, were called 
 Ectypes. From the circumstance of their having 
 been originally formed of a plastic material, the 
 ornamented ridges still continued to be called 
 Plasters, after Byzes of Naxos had introduced 
 marble in their execution. The ypavroi tvttoi, 
 or picta tigilla, were probably the painted Ante- 
 fixes. (Pompeiana, 220—222.) Besides these, 
 the Romans used slates, and hexagonal stone- 
 
 tiles; tiles for columns, presenting their angles 
 
 in their alternate courses, so as to form a ground 
 
164 
 
 ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 for the plaster, fillets, and flutes; tiles hollow 
 and inscribed, used for the construction of 
 tombs; grooved, to prevent the foot from slip- 
 ing, for baths, &c. 
 
 Shingles, or wooden tiles, and those of pot¬ 
 tery, like the Roman, were used by the Anglo- 
 Saxons, Normans, &c.; but between the thir¬ 
 teenth and fourteenth centuries, the Flemish 
 manner of making them was introduced, and the 
 form changed. Convex, or pan-tiles, and 
 Dutch ornamented tiles, were in use in the mid¬ 
 dle ages. 
 
 Orders of Architecture. 
 
 Egyptian. The most ancient Egyptian co¬ 
 lumns are cylindrical, with fillets, and intervals, 
 around them, the capitals being an obtuse frus¬ 
 tum of a cone, with the bottom rounded (i. e. 
 of the form of the thick end of a carrot), the 
 thin end uppermost, surmounted by a square 
 abacus. The next in date are the capitals 
 formed like an inverted bell. 
 
 Grecian Orders. 
 
 Doric. The shorter the column the more 
 ancient. The earliest Doric is less than five 
 diameters. The second Doric is six diameters, 
 as in the Theseum at Athens. The Roman or 
 corrupted Doric is more than six diameters. 
 
Ionic. The ancient has a much deeper capi¬ 
 tal than the Roman. I 
 
 Corinthian. The most ancient has no volute 
 
 at the corners. 
 
 Tuscan. Only one ancient column known, 
 that at-the Emissario, in the Fucine lake. 
 
 Composite. First seen in the arch of Titus. 
 
 Plinths beneath the bases are not older than 
 the time of the Roman Emperors. Stylobates do 
 not appear to be older than the reign of Hadrian. 
 
 Octangular, polygonal, and oval columns are 
 very ancient. Reeded columns occur ^ at Pom¬ 
 peii Columns with wreaths around the shafts, 
 filleted, polygonal towards the bottom, with 
 very high bases, and twisted columns, only ap¬ 
 pear in the decline of the Empire. 
 
 Columns were not introduced into the archi¬ 
 tecture of Roman houses before the end of the 
 Republic. 
 
 Arches over columns instead of entablatures 
 commence in or about the time of Diocletian. 
 
 Arabesque (capricious flower-work) not intro¬ 
 duced into Italy before the time of Augustus. 
 
 Grotesque (fantastic forms of men and ani¬ 
 mals) Egyptian, brought to Rome in the reign 
 
 of Adrian. 
 
 Ropography, fantastic slender columns, formed 
 of parts of animals and flowers, purely Roman. 
 
166 
 
 antiquities. 
 
 The grand distinction between ancient and 
 modern architecture is, the simplicity of parts 
 and ornaments in the former, and the intricacy 
 and profusion of them in the latter *. 
 
 * The difference between ancient and modern 
 architecture, as instanced in the style of Michael 
 Angelo, further corrupted by Bernini, is thus given 
 by Eustace, ii. 224-228 : I. Pillars which sup¬ 
 port nothing, which are coupled together, or arc 
 hid in niches and recesses. II. The repetition o f 
 the same order on a different scale, or the introduc¬ 
 tion of another order in the same story, or on the 
 same plan. III. The same order carried through 
 different stories, and the consequent confusion of 
 proportions. IV. Multiplicity of pedestals and 
 pilasters V. Prodigality of ornaments. VI. Breaks, 
 interruption, or waving of the cornice. VII Pro¬ 
 fusion of pediments, pediments of various forms, 
 such as curves, semicircles, arcs of circles, ad¬ 
 vancing, receding, &c. VIII. Abuse of the rustic. 
 IX. Introduction of the low stories, called Mezzo- 
 nini, and little windows between the principal sto 
 ries. X. Protuberance of columns in the shaft. 
 XI. Multiplication of slips of columns and pilasters 
 with portions of capitals, crowded together in the 
 angles of edifices. 
 

 
 
168 
 
 ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 In point of fact there are only two genera 
 of Gothic Architecture, the round-headed arch 
 (or degraded Roman), and the pointed arch , or 
 Oriental style. 
 
 Bound arch. This style has been divided 
 into Anglo-Saxon and Norman, but there ap¬ 
 pears to be no foundation for this division. A 
 general just remark may be made, that archi¬ 
 tecture advances from heaviness to lightness, by 
 which in the end, proportion is often destroyed ; 
 and from simplicity .to ornament, by which ulti¬ 
 mately taste is corrupted. In general too, the 
 shorter the column the more ancient it is. In 
 the round arch there certainly exist two distinct 
 styles; one , where the effect is sought from the 
 arcade, as in a bridge, viz. that where the arches 
 are very high and large, and the columns very 
 short and stumpy; the other where the effect is 
 sought from the colonnade, the columns being 
 lofty and the arches smaller. The former style, 
 which has every aspect of being the oldest, mav 
 be called the Bridge-looking Hound Arch style ; 
 the other the High-columned Bound Arch style. 
 Perhaps the Normans used the Norman only. 
 One distinction has been made, but probably is 
 not to be depended upon, viz . that the soffit (or 
 sweep of the arch ) is in the Anglo-Saxon style, 
 
ARCHITECTURE. 169 
 
 always filled with mouldings, and in the Norman 
 always plain. 
 
 The most certain mode however of ascertain¬ 
 ing the existence of the Anglo-Saxon style in 
 churches is by other means, viz. a circular East 
 end, with three small windows, not one; circular 
 steeples at the West end*, a porticus at the 
 western end of the nave inside , and an upper 
 croft for storing valuables under danger. 
 
 In my judgment there are three distinct pe¬ 
 riods in Anglo-Saxon churches. 
 
 According to Bede, the most ancient churches 
 had neither pillars nor side-ailes, and no side 
 entrance (only one at the west end), and no 
 tower. They had merely an ante-temple or por¬ 
 ticus, a nave, and a chancel. (See Mr. Wilkins 
 in the Archaeologia, xiii. 299.) Avington, Berks, 
 is a fine specimen. It is small, and quite plain 
 on the outside; within the walls 75 feet by 14 
 feet 7 inches. The nave is separated from the 
 chancel by an arch, ornamented with zigzag and 
 grotesque heads; the piers lean outwards, and 
 the form of the arch is that of a crown, diverg¬ 
 ing and then sinking down in the middle. This 
 is the first aera. 
 
 * Some of the churches which have them are 
 mentioned in Domesday, perhaps all of them. 
 
 i 
 
The second period is after the addition of the 
 tower at the West end, which of course would 
 remove the entrance to the side. If the tower 
 did come up in the time of Alfred, as asserted, 
 then this second style has its commencement 
 about that reign. Such churches are also like 
 that of Stukeley, with towers in the centre of a 
 cross. 
 
 The third period is wdien side-ailes are added, 
 as at Melbourne (see Archseol. ubi supi \); and 
 this specimen would seem to show that they 
 all originally had circular terminations at the 
 East end. Many of these appear to have been 
 destroyed for the purpose of introducing a large 
 ramified window r . This is the latest period, 
 and runs into the Norman sera. The Conquest 
 took place in 1066, and soon after this (to omit 
 the well-know n cathedral specimen) plain semi¬ 
 circular arches, springing from square massive 
 piers (as at Elstow, co. Bedford), show a fashion 
 of the day with regard to country churches. As 
 to those on a superior scale, except in the kind 
 and ^quantity of embellishment, they have all 
 a similar general character, viz. round massy 
 columns; semi-circular arches; round-headed 
 windows; and a second tier of arches in the 
 clere story, springing from columns carried up 
 
ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 171 
 
 between the piers of the lower tier. According 
 to Whitaker, narrow single lights prove the ex¬ 
 istence of a church in the year 1200. 
 
 Pointed Arch genus . This style passed from 
 the East through Italy and France to England; 
 and Bishop de Lucy is universally understood to 
 be the first who introduced lancet-arches, sup¬ 
 ported by clusters of slender columns, with capi¬ 
 tals of foliage, into the cathedral of Winchester, 
 on or about the year 1202. 
 
 That this soon became the prevalent fashion 
 is evident from Salisbury Cathedral, the Temple 
 Church, Tin ter ne Abbey, &c. There is a very 
 simple test of the edifices of this aera, the thir¬ 
 teenth century, viz. that of the mullions of the 
 windows, and pilasters of walls, being slender 
 columns with large capitals of foliage. The 
 large windows too are escalloped in the exterior 
 outline. Round or cylindrical mouldings ap¬ 
 pertain to this and the preceding aeras. 
 
 The next striking change of fashion is in the 
 mullions of the windows. They are altered 
 from pillars with capitals, into plain bars, which- 
 ramify at the head into lace-work patterns. 
 
 The reign of Edward III. produced a new 
 peculiarity in the arch. The head has no bend, 
 and taken from the perpendicular ^amb, form* 
 1 2 
 
ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 172 
 
 nearly an equilateral triangle. Straight lined- 
 heads of arches appear in subsequent aeras, but 
 then they are very flat. They are only obtuse 
 triangles. Oak leaves, quatrefoil roses, and 
 crockets, are exceedingly common in this finest 
 and most perfect style of Gothic architecture, 
 viz . that ascribed to the reign of Edward III. 
 
 The large ramified window, with the curved 
 pointed arch, like a heater shield inverted, pre¬ 
 ceded, was contemporary with, and continued 
 after, the year 1300; but it appears at West¬ 
 minster Abbey filled with three quatrefoils, 
 two and one within circles, in the year 1285, 
 and perhaps there are instances still earlier. It 
 was retained with its sharp-pointed head, even 
 after the flat one was in vogue, as appears by 
 Sudeley Chapel, built in the reign of Henry VI. 
 The division of these great windows into ho¬ 
 rizontal stories was merely a consequence of 
 length, for such a division appears in the lower 
 windows of Durham Tower, of the date of 1258. 
 
 The obtuse arch of the florid Gothic of the 
 fifteenth century, becomes, in the time of Henry 
 VIII. a deformity, by enlarging the breadth, and 
 curtailing the length of the window. Of this 
 there are specimens in the hall of Christ Church, 
 Oxford, and that of Sudeley Castle. Whitaker 
 
■says, that round-headed windows were intro¬ 
 duced in the latter end of the reign of Henry 
 VIII. Broad, ugly windows, in the form of an 
 obtuse demi-oval, are frequent in buildings of 
 this aera. 
 
 Very heavy, low churches, with massive towers, 
 (of which Finchley and Enfield are good in¬ 
 stances), show a fashion of the early part of the 
 sixteenth century. From 1532 to 1630 we 
 meet with church-windows merely composed ot 
 unornamented mullions up to the top, the lights 
 
 i 
 
 • ■ 
 
 being finished with escalloped work. There are 
 specimens at St. Andrew Undershaft, and St. 
 Mary Cree-church, London. No tall, modern 
 spire is earlier than the twelfth century. Fine 
 slender towers denote the fifteenth century. 
 
 The summary of Messrs. Lysons will supply 
 minutiae. 
 
 In the beginning of the thirteenth centuiy, 
 the Gothic style seems to have been completely 
 established. In this early style the arches dif¬ 
 fered very much, but were usually sharp-pointed; 
 the windows long, narrow, and lancet-shaped, 
 and frequently decorated in the inside, and some¬ 
 times on the outside also, with slender shafts, 
 frequently with fasciae round them, and the ca¬ 
 pitals enriched with foliage. There were often 
 
174 
 
 ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 three, and sometimes more windows under one 
 arch, with trefoils or quatrefoils between their 
 tops, some of the windows consisting of two 
 lights divided by a pillar or mullion, with a 
 quatrefoil between them. The columns were 
 frequently surrounded by slender marble pillars, 
 detached from them in the shaft, and uniting 
 with them in the bases; and the capitals were 
 often richly ornamented with foliage. The 
 vaultings were usually high pitched, the cross¬ 
 springers had plain mouldings, and were en¬ 
 riched at their intersections with orbs, foliage, 
 and other sculptured devices. The general cha¬ 
 racteristic of this style is simplicity; but when 
 ornaments were united, they were usually ele¬ 
 gant, especially the foliated capitals, and the 
 scrolls of foliage, with which the spandrils of 
 arches were sometimes filled. Towards the 
 latter end of this century, the pillars became 
 more solid, the lights of the windows were en¬ 
 larged, and the slender detached shafts in a 
 great measure laid aside. 
 
 14th Century . This century differed consi¬ 
 derably from the preceding, particularly in the 
 vaulting and formation of the windows. The 
 first became more decorated, and divided into 
 different angular compartments, forming a sort 
 
ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 175 
 
 of tracery, ornamented at the intersections with 
 foliated orbs, carved heads, and other embossed 
 works. The columns were clustered frequently 
 with rich foliated capitals; the windows were 
 greatly enlarged, and divided into several lights, 
 by stone mullions, ramified into different foims 
 in the upper part, particularly the great Eastei 11 
 and Western windows, which frequently occu¬ 
 pied nearly the whole width of the nave, or 
 choir, and were carried up almost as high as 
 the vaulting. The arches of door-ways, monu¬ 
 ments, &c. were richly ornamented on the sides 
 with foliage, generally known by the name of 
 crockets, and the pinnacles were usually enriched 
 in the same manner. In the early parts of this 
 century, the arches were also frequently orna¬ 
 mented with rows of rose-buds in the hollow 
 mouldings. In this century also prevailed that 
 singular arch formed of four segments of cir¬ 
 cles, contrasted like an ogee moulding: but¬ 
 tresses, terminated with pinnacles, and some¬ 
 times ornamented with tracery, were much used 
 in door-ways, tombs, piscinae, &c. where slendei 
 pillars had been employed for the same purpose 
 in the preceding century. 
 
 15 th Century . The angles of the arches be¬ 
 came more and more obtuse, till, at last, the} 
 
176 
 
 ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 were almost flat. The ribs of the vaulting were 
 divided into a great variety of parts, and en¬ 
 riched with a profusion of sculpture, and a 
 cluster of pendent ornaments. The side walls 
 were very frequently covered with abundance of 
 rich tracery to the heads of the windows, instead 
 of being divided into various forms, as in the 
 preceding century, and were filled with a great 
 number of small compartments, with trefoil 
 heads supported by perpendicular mullions: 
 the large windows were usually divided by two 
 large mullions into three compartments, which 
 were subdivided into smaller ones. 
 
 The mouldings in use in the Anglo-Saxon 
 and Norman aeras, and the respective forms of 
 the arches at various periods, will be seen in 
 the wood-cuts, p. 167* 
 
 Greek and Roman Edifices. 
 
 !• Temples . Egyptian Temples can only be 
 understood by plates. The sloping w r alls ori¬ 
 ginated in the necessity of thus building in 
 unbaked bricks, a fashion which was imitated in 
 stone. 
 
 Greek Temples are, with scarce an ex¬ 
 ception, of the barn-form. They are distin¬ 
 guished from the Roman by a low r er aspect, 
 
architecture. 
 
 177 
 
 thicker columns, and want of the artificial 
 podium or basement. There are no lules foi 
 the details or proportions of Greek temples. 
 Where there are mixtures of two orders in 
 temples, one is, according to Mr. Payne Knight, 
 a subsequent addition; for lie says, that in all 
 the temples known to be of remote antiquity, 
 both in Europe and Asia, the two ranges of 
 columns are of the same order. The several 
 distinctions of temples are these . 
 
 In Antis. Only pilasters at the corners, and 
 Tuscan columns at the side of the door. 
 
 Prostyle. Only pillars in front. 
 
 Amphiprostyle, or Tetrastyk. Four columns 
 
 in front, and four behind. 
 
 Dipteros, or Octostyle. Eight columns in front 
 and two ranks of isolated columns around it. 
 
 Pseudo-dipteral. Eight columns in front, 
 with a single rank of columns in circuit. 
 
 Hypasthral. Ten columns m the exterior 
 front, and another range within; the middle 
 open, like a cloister. 
 
 Monopteral. Round; no walls; only a dome 
 supported by columns. 
 
 Peripteral, or Hemstyk. Six columns in 
 front, and four ranks of isolated columns in the 
 circumference. 
 
 i 5 
 
178 
 
 •ANTiauITIES. 
 
 Pseudo-peripteral. Where the side columns 
 are fixed in the walls. 
 
 Per ipteros , or llotundus. A round cell a 
 within a circular range of columns, like the 
 temple of Vesta or the Sibyl, at Tivoli. 
 
 JEdiculum was a small roofed temple. The 
 Sacellum, one not roofed. 
 
 There were other distinctions made according 
 to the intercolumniations, viz. Picnostyle , inter- 
 columniation 1£ diameter of the column. Sys- 
 tile, 2 diameter. Eustyle, 2£ diameter. Dia- 
 style, 3 diameter. Areostyle so wide as to be fit 
 only for supporting beams. 
 
 The Cavern Temples , supposed of the Cylle- 
 nian Mercury, were probably Hypogaean se¬ 
 pulchres. 
 
 Octagon Temples, ascribed by Montfaucon to 
 the Gauls, occur both among the Greeks and 
 Romans. 
 
 Dr. Clarke says, that the temple of Jupiter 
 Panhellenius, at iEgina, is the most ancient 
 and remarkable of all the Greek temples. 
 
 Basilicas are distinguishable from temples by 
 having a semicircular recess at the East end, 
 and no columns around the cella. 
 
 Theatres. The Greek are scooped out of the 
 hollow of a mountain, and have a stadium below. 
 
ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 179 
 
 The orchestra was a platform, not a pew or 
 cavity, as in the Roman theatre. Remains ol 
 the stage part are very rare; but Mr. Hughes, 
 in his Albanian Travels (ii. 340), has engraved 
 one. It is of this form. 
 
 Both in Greek and Roman theatres the stage 
 part is very narrow, for it is distinguished from 
 our theatres by having a house built upon it. 
 The first Roman theatres of stone are ascribed 
 to Pompey. The theatre of Herculaneum, ol 
 which there is a model in the picture-gallery 
 at Oxford, is the most complete specimen 
 known. 
 
 Amphitheatres , of which specimens are nu¬ 
 merous, take date 725 Tj. C. 
 
 The Greek Stadium is a narrow, staple-formed 
 level, with high banks all round it. The most 
 ancient is at Sicyon, which has Cyclopean ma¬ 
 sonry annexed to it. 
 
 The Roman Circus is the Stadium improved. 
 It existed among us in the Hippodrome or 
 Cursus, and is found also in America; so that 
 it is more an ancient than an historical record. 
 
 Aqueducts. The subterranean are ancient. 
 
180 
 
 ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 The Roman commence A. U. C. 444. Their 
 construction is well known. In some aqueducts 
 there were three channels, conveying distinct 
 streams. Near Constantinople is one, which 
 has a road annexed to it; and with another at 
 Cumae, a citadel is united. 
 
 Sewers. The first known are those of Pheax, 
 in Sicily, formed by arches of projecting layers 
 of stone. 
 
 Bridges. The most ancient were of wood, 
 and the earliest of stone were not arched. In 
 short, the Greeks seem to have paid no attention 
 to bridges as matters of architectural considera¬ 
 tion. They had no wide rivers. If the Greeks 
 had arched bridges, they are not of remote anti¬ 
 quity in their history : but at Alitoura and Mes- 
 sena are triangular bridges, similar to those of 
 Croyland. Roman bridges are of very curious 
 construction, varying according to circumstances. 
 It is a remarkable fact, according to Plutarch 
 (in Numa), that Pontifex was derived from sa¬ 
 crifices made upon bridges, and that Priests 
 were commissioned to keep them in repair. It 
 is certain that a chapel (Sacellmn) was annexed 
 to the famous bridge of Alcantara; and it 
 appears from those of London, Droitwich, 
 Cloud in Warwickshire, &c. &c. that Cha- 
 
ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 181 
 
 pels or hermitages were annexed to them for 
 the purpose of repairing them by means ot 
 the offerings. If we may believe some authori¬ 
 ties, the Romans preferred ferries to bridges, as 
 safer; if so, it must have been on military prin¬ 
 ciples, rivers being natural valla. 
 
 Acropoles. Greek cities (as indeed those in 
 Egypt, Asia, &c.) had a citadel, or fortress on 
 elevated ground, communicating with the town 
 beneath, a fashion imitated in the Capitol at 
 Home, our British fortresses, and our Mediaeval 
 castles. Some cities, as Haliartos, had more 
 than one Acropolis. 
 
 Town Walls. The oldest and latest are dou¬ 
 ble, i. e. terraces with stone facings, divided 
 into intervals by towers (sometimes solid) m/j*, 
 {MeoTTupyoi. Plataea furnishes an excellent speci¬ 
 men of a later period (though itself very ancient), 
 which has mostly square towers, but some cir¬ 
 cular, but what is peculiar to them, and most 
 walls of that period, are perpendicular stripes 
 or incisions made in them by way of ornament. 
 The fosse, supplied by water where practicable, 
 appears to have been a later addition. The 
 circular towers were near the gates; the distinc¬ 
 tion between them and square towers being 
 this: the former afforded no protection to be- 
 
182 
 
 ANTIGLUITIES. 
 
 siegers attacking from tlie outside. The square 
 towers were intended to divide the terrace of the 
 walls into sections, so that if one intermediate 
 space was carried, the conquest should extend 
 no further; wherefore these square towers were 
 built upon the wall, with only a small thorough¬ 
 fare in them, which was easily stopped. The 
 gateways between round towers occur at Daulis, 
 Alexandria Troas, &c. and they are always so 
 constructed, that the besieger was obliged to 
 expose the side, unprotected by the shield. 
 The approaches, also, were so narrowed, that 
 the attacking party could not bring a large front 
 to the gate. The Roman walls were con¬ 
 structed on the same principles, as were also 
 those of castles in the middle age, with the ex¬ 
 ception of open demi-bastions, instead of the 
 intermediate square towers. 
 
 Baths are distinguishable from other build- 
 ings by various appendages of evident manifesta¬ 
 tion, but generally also by a rotunda accompa¬ 
 nying them. Reservoirs of water appear in the 
 form of cellars, with pillars and arches. Such 
 is the pretended Thermae of Julian at Paris. 
 
 Obelisks. The ancient (though Belzoni has 
 found an exception) have no pedestals, like' the 
 modern. 
 
L 
 
 architecture. 10 '° 
 
 Triumphal Arches. None in Greece till the 
 time of the Roman Emperors. 
 
 Treasuries , like that of Atreus at Mycenm, 
 viz. of the form of a bee-hive and subterranean, 
 occur in Greece, Italy, and Sardinia. They are 
 thought to have been tombs also, and possibly 
 temples, or rather excavations under them, like 
 the Roman Favissce : also granaries. 
 
 Houses. The tower-houses of Diodorus ap¬ 
 pear in the city of Bacchus, and are engraved 
 by Belzoni. The Tyrgoi of modern Greece 
 are supposed to resemble those ot antiquity, but 
 Sir William Gell’s account of the “ Palace ol 
 Ulysses” is disputed; in fact, there are no Gre¬ 
 cian remains of houses. It seems however to 
 be undeniable, that they consisted of two courts, 
 one beyond the other. Around the outer court 
 were -distributed the apartments of the men and 
 servants; around the inner those of the females. 
 But the Greek house had no Atrium. A passage, 
 with double gates, led to a peristyle, which had 
 only three sides; on the fourth were two anta:, 
 at an ample distance asunder, with a connecting 
 architrave. Two thirds of their distance apart 
 was their depth, and this was called the prostas, 
 or parastas. Within was the great oicos, in 
 
 which the family resided; on the right and left 
 
184 
 
 ANTIQUITIES* 
 
 of the parastas were the cubicula , of which one 
 was called thalamus , the other amphitlialamus . 
 Around, under the portico, were the commonly 
 used triclinia , cubicula , and familiarice .— 
 
 (Pompeiana, 150.) According to this descrip¬ 
 tion the plan of a Greek house was this: 
 
 Stables and Por- £ Stables and Por¬ 
 ter’s Apartments. a q ter’s Apartments, 
 
 Peristyle. 
 
 <y 
 
 Prostas,— 
 
 or 
 
 Parastas. 
 
 Oicos. 
 
 As to Roman houses, the ichnography of them 
 is given in an ancient plan of Rome of the time 
 of Septimius Severus, preserved at the Capitol. 
 They are of a square form, full of small rooms. 
 The habitations of obscure persons were very 
 
ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 185 
 
 irregular, and had no atrium, though they were 
 full of rooms, and had a court or peristyle. 
 
 The house of a small tradesman at Pompeu 
 had a corridor of entrance, a shop adjoining on 
 one side, then a covered court, of which the roof 
 was supported by columns, and which formed a 
 kind of Atrium Pseudotetra style, with an im- 
 pluvium, to receive the rain-water; a sleeping 
 room for the master; another little room for the 
 servant or slave; below a small kitchen. 
 
 Shops. These were of two kinds. One com¬ 
 municated with the interior of a great house, 
 and these shops denote that the trade was 
 carried on by one of the domesticks. The other 
 shops had a distinct dwelling attached to them. 
 
 The Insula, or houses of distinction, were ob¬ 
 long squares, detached from each other, the 
 street going between each. Sometimes an in¬ 
 sula consisted of three houses in a row, con¬ 
 nected with each other by party walls. 
 
 The form of the atrium [whence our modern 
 hall was borrowed] distinguishes the ages ot 
 houses. The Tuscan atrium was the only one 
 used in the first times. The Tuscan atrium was 
 that of which the roof, sloping on all sides to¬ 
 wards the centre of the court (within), was only 
 supported by four beams crossing at right 
 
186 
 
 ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 angles; the middle remained open, and was 
 called the compluvium. 
 
 A Corinthian atrium, with a circular colon¬ 
 nade, was a form of distinction. It only differed 
 from the Tetrastyle by the number of columns 
 which supported the roof, and by the size of the 
 impluvium (basin in the floor, which received 
 the water from the roof). It was preferable to 
 the other for great habitations and palaces, 
 because it gave more air to the apartments 
 which surrounded it. 
 
 Houses also occur with two atria , the testudi- 
 natum and the displuviatum . The tcstudinatum 
 had a shelving roof to shoot off the rain out of 
 the house, instead of conducting it to the implu¬ 
 vium. The displuviatum was that where the 
 roof had no uncovered space, i. e. no complu¬ 
 vium. 
 
 The Roman house appears to have been en¬ 
 tered through a vestibule outside, into a large 
 hall (the atrium), beyond which were two rooms 
 in succession, or a court between the two, the 
 last being the dining-room. On each side of the 
 atrium were small closets or bed-rooms. The 
 exterior form was not uniform. The country 
 villas appear to have had a portico or piazza 
 outside. In the city the atrium is placed next 
 
architecture. 
 
 187 
 
 lie entrance; in the country the peiistjle ocxu 
 pied that situation, the atrium was within. T ie 
 plans, however, and internal dispositions o 
 Roman houses are so variable, that it is hare 
 appropriate the rooms in them, except tie 
 atrium, or cuvsedium, . and triclinium bej on . 
 
 For instance, the Roman villas at Bignor, in 
 Sussex, and Whitcombe in Gloucestershire, 
 have no resemblance to each other, and ne 
 to the remains found at Pompeii; nor are the 
 latter alike. 
 
 Tombs, Mausolea. The first form of sepul¬ 
 chres is said to have been the barrow; the 
 second the pyramidal; the third the Spe M 
 or Hypogamm. These generally contained sar¬ 
 cophagi, and the tumuli had a vaulted cham¬ 
 ber within, which protected a vase, with figures 
 and inscriptions. Cremation was rare, and there¬ 
 fore Hypogeea which had Columbaria appears 
 to be subsequent to the Roman Conquest. The 
 tombs of the poor contain only broken pottery, 
 bones, and vases of a votive or dedicatory kind. 
 Articles, emblematic of profession, sex, rank, 
 &c. are found among the Romans; very splendid 
 mausolea appear to have been common in the 
 time of the early Emperors; but Monumenta, 
 those smaller superstructures, so repeated m 
 

 188 ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 Boissard, and made, like ours, over graves, do do 
 
 not appear at Pompeii, and therefore may be w 
 
 ascribed to the decline of the Empire, an opi- wi 
 
 nion which is further vindicated by the style of tl 
 
 the architecture, and the corruption of the lan- n 
 
 guage. If D. M. occurs, the monument is not fl 
 
 a cenotaph. A 
 
 it 
 
 Edifices of the Middle Age. f( 
 
 Castles . The Greek castle of the classical sera 
 is characterized by serrated battlements on the J 
 
 walls and towers, the latter of which are more J 
 
 lofty and slender than those of the middle age. 
 The Roman castle was a square, with four broad 
 square towers at each corner, and had a low 
 aspect. 
 
 The castle of the ancient Britons was perched 
 upon a hill, and may be best explained by the 
 Irish rath . On the summit was placed a tower 
 (i dun ), for the chieftain, under the dun or 
 tower was a cellar (vagh , vaigh ,) for stores, and 
 retreat of the women and children. Around the 
 dun or tower was an area ( rath ) which included 
 small habitations for the family of the chief. A 
 rampart, called the ran , surrounded the rath ; 
 and outside (generally) of this rampart was the 
 mote ormothan. The space below ( healleagh) 
 was inclosed, and there resided the servants and 
 
architecture. 
 
 189 
 
 domestic animals. Annexed to the whole *as a 
 watch-tower (amhaire, or radhairej, where there 
 was a constant guard. The external form ot 
 these raths or artificial sites was circular, but on 
 natural ground followed the shape of the hill. 
 Now in Trer-cairi, Launceston (British), the 
 Anglo-Saxon keeps, &c. on hills, we find the 
 dun (whence dungeon-tower), with its small area 
 rath, and fences ran and mote ; and m the beal- 
 leagh we have the outer bailey, or Romanized 
 Jlium of later castle. The Anglo-Saxon 
 burgh-kening or barbican, answered to t le spe 
 cula or amhaire *• 
 
 * At Sekinrfon, co. Warwick, near the church, 
 upon an ascending ground, is yet to be seen a 
 noble fort, made after a circular form, the dimen¬ 
 sions whereof, though much less than they were at 
 first, are vet as followed,, viz. the breadth of the 
 outer ditch at the top, 20 feet, and at the bottom 
 10 feet; the depth of it 12 feet; the d.ametei 
 within the bank is 297 feet. On the North s.de o 
 it opposite to the entrance, is a round lull art fi 
 cially raised, of 42 feet in height, which at the op 
 is 24 feet in breadth, whereupon, as it should seem, 
 some watch-tower hath formerly stood. By the 
 country people it bears the name of a castle. 
 Dugd. JVarw* 813> ed. 1. 
 
190 
 
 ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 The castle of the Anglo-Saxons may be 
 known by its erection upon a superior elevation, 
 or artificial tumulus. In Domesday Book only 
 six castles are mentioned, of which all known to 
 the author stand upon tumult , a fashion certainly 
 not indispensable' but where the natural ground 
 was low , apparent in all Anglo-Saxon castles so 
 situated. At Corfe, a natural eminence, the arti¬ 
 ficial mount does not occur. Sturminster New¬ 
 ton Castle, Dorset, mentioned in Alfred’s will, 
 was of the form of a D, stood upon a high hill, 
 and was surrounded by a lofty vallum and deep 
 ditch, except on the side of the precipice. 
 On the centre of the top was a small keep. 
 Thus it appears, that where the natural ground 
 was sufficient, there was no artificial tumulus. 
 Nevertheless, Tamworth, Warwick, Dudley, 
 Windsor, See. are mentioned in Domesday, and 
 all have a keep upon a tumulus. The first was 
 a palace of the Mercian kings, and a vast ditch, 
 called King’s Ditch, included the precincts, 
 within a quadrangular figure. Lady Elfleda, 
 says Dugdale, built a strong tower upon an arti¬ 
 ficial mount of earth, called the Dungeon; upon 
 which mount that building now called the castle 
 hath of late times been erected, for the body of 
 the old castle stood below, tov/ards the market 
 
ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 191 
 
 place, where the stables are at present. This 
 vicinity towards the market place was for pro¬ 
 tection of the latter. Whitaker observes of the 
 town walls of Richmond, in Yorkshire, that 
 they inclosed little more than the market place. 
 Warwick, another castle, built by Lady Elfleda, 
 had a strong tower placed upon a high mount of 
 earth artificially raised, such being usually^ 
 thrown up towards the side of a castle or fort 
 which was least defensible. In these Anglo- 
 Saxon keeps, as in the British, a flight of steps 
 leads directly in front up the tumulus to an 
 arched entrance. 
 
 The Norman castle has also a large and lofty 
 keep, but strengthened further by a side-long 
 entrance up a flight of steps. The buildings 
 and offices were below, in connection with it. 
 
 In the 13th century appear castles with four 
 angular towers, one of them being stronger, and 
 forming a keep. At the end of the same cen¬ 
 tury the square with corner towers is enlarged 
 into high w'alls, with numerous towers and tur¬ 
 rets. In the fourteenth century three styles 
 appear. The first, or quadrangular, is a square 
 court, with angular towers and machicolated 
 gateways, sometimes flanked by slender round 
 towers. The second style is distinguished by a 
 
192 ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 low round keep and lofty round turrets The w 
 
 third is the castellated mansion, or house and fas 
 
 castle united, resembling an Oxford College. thi 
 
 This fashion continued in the succeeding cen- of 
 
 turies, and various ancient castles received addi- - ra< 
 tions, or modifications, in order to unite com- top 
 
 fortable residence with the protection of fortifi- lit 
 
 cation. fa 
 
 But there were inferior fortresses (for such stai 
 
 they were intended to be), viz, Manor-houses, Be 
 
 Hugh, Earl of Chester, in the time of Henry ter 
 
 III. built a manor-house at Hartshill, in War- Sn 
 
 wickshire, for the purposes of defence, on the 
 utmost point of a ridge, which stretched between or 
 
 two deep and narrow vallies. k 
 
 Afterwards two styles prevailed; the Flemish , k 
 
 or High Gables, and the English , or Two Sto- in 
 
 ries only. te 
 
 Flemish, or High Gables. In the illumi- b 
 
 nations of the Roman d’Alexandre, are several u 
 
 * The round keeps were called Round Tables , 
 and were in vogue temp. Edw. III. See Howes’ 
 Stowe, pp. 239.264 ; but a very similar fashion pre¬ 
 vailed in the reign of Henry VIII. for Camber 
 Castle at Winchelsea, built by him, was a very low 
 broad round tower, with round intermediate walls, 
 and windows or embrasures at the bottom. 
 
 / 
 
u 
 
 ARCHITECTURE. 193 
 
 views of fortified houses with high gables, a 
 fashion which was introduced from Flanders, 
 through the wars in that country in the reigns 
 of the first Edwards. They have a mixed cha¬ 
 racter of a keep and house, having angular demi- 
 towers square, the faces diagonal to the building, 
 like the buttresses of church-towers, and differ 
 from the castle in having pine-end roofs. They 
 stand within a moat, and have towered gateways. 
 Beverstone Castle, in Gloucestershire, built 
 temp. Edw. III. and engraved by Grose, is a 
 fine specimen. 
 
 English, or Low Houses. Moats, double 
 or single, were deemed essential fortifications, 
 but from the twelfth to the fifteenth century 
 houses were so low, that in the former sera those 
 in London are presumed to have been only six¬ 
 teen feet high; and at Southwell College, first 
 built in 1399, there were only two stories, die 
 upper one being in the roof, which was so deep 
 as to reach to the ceilings of the lower rooms. 
 In 1485 the upper story was raised. God’s 
 House at Southampton, built in the fourteenth 
 century, was of similar character. But even in 
 the next century the houses continued very low. 
 In die Paston Letters it is said, “ Z r housis her 
 ben so low, yat yer may non man schet (shoot) 
 K 
 
194 - 
 
 antiquities. 
 
 out wt no long bowe.” The old part of the 
 manerial house of Wootton, Kent, is presumed 
 to have been of the time of the Edwards. It was 
 built of flint. The walls were uncommonly 
 thick. It had here and there lancet windows; 
 a little round tower, with a newel staircase; and 
 thick studded folding doors under a pointed 
 arch, which led to a chapel. It had also within 
 memory a hall with a coved wooden iooI, 
 painted with stars and other ornaments, of the 
 height of the two stories, and perfect Gothic 
 windows, pointed, with mullions and trefoils. 
 
 It therefore may be inferred, that except in 
 the castles and castellated mansions, the manor- 
 houses of the English style in the fourteenth and 
 fifteenth centuries, did not exceed two stories, a 
 ground-floor and a garret. The Chronicle of 
 Dunstable mentions the erections of carpenters’ 
 and wheelers’ houses within the court of a 
 manor-house, as early as the thirteenth century; 
 so that all these incumbrances of offices are quite 
 ancient, indeed they are Anglo-Saxon. 
 
 The styles of Gothic architecture will suffici¬ 
 ently point out the aeras of these ancient manor- 
 houses, where there are remains. 
 
 Gables with steps were also borrowed from 
 the Flemings. They' occur in the Homan 
 
> 
 
 ARCHITECTURE. 195 
 
 d! Alexandre, and appear to have continued in 
 fashion during the fourteenth, fifteenth, and six¬ 
 teenth centuries. 
 
 Very curious mansions, called Border Man¬ 
 sions, occur in the North of England. They 
 unite the appearance of a church and castellated 
 mansion. One at Mortham, of the date of 
 Henry the Seventh's reign, is thus recorded by 
 Whitaker: “ It has a thorough lobby, kitchens 
 on the left hand, with arched doors out of the 
 lobby to the butteries; a hall on the right hand 
 up to the roof, and a handsome tower beyond 
 the hall; at one end an inclosure for the 
 nightly protection of the castle from depreda¬ 
 tions, strongly walled about with stone.” 
 
 In the sixteenth century there is great ele¬ 
 gance in the houses. Superb gateways; slender 
 turrets; octangular staircase towers, with or 
 without domed tops, covered with lead; large 
 projecting chimney stacks, topped by two, three, 
 or four cliimnies, tall, and often of richly mo¬ 
 delled brick; great square windows in profu¬ 
 sion ; projecting bay windows; lofty porches 
 and many other minute distinctions, of which 
 the instances are frequent. 
 
 Conveyances of smoke by holes in walls are 
 of very ancient aeras in our castles; but the ear- 
 k 2 
 
ANTiaUITIES. 
 
 196 
 
 liest certain instance of chimnies, properly 
 so called, is said to occur in 1347, abroad, 
 
 Escalloped gables are ascribed to the begin¬ 
 ning of the seventeenth century. 
 
 Figures, badges, and arms carved in wood, 
 are called of the sixteenth century; at least 
 over-hanging projecting stories are of the same 
 aera; in some instances of the end of the pre¬ 
 ceding century. 
 
 It may be assumed, that no brick buildings 
 are earlier than the fifteenth century, and those 
 very rare indeed. But the brick walls of these 
 seras are merely facings, the interior being filled 
 with rubbish. We have no good brick walls 
 till the time of Charles I. 
 
 Houses, of curious fancy patterns, in wood, 
 lath and plaster, (such as was Nonsuch,) Evelyn 
 makes an Italian fashion of the 16th century. 
 
 In the same century occur the fashion of 
 chequering brick and stone fronts with flints, 
 or glazed bricks of deeper colour; or figures or 
 mouldings of baked clay, in the manner of pot¬ 
 tery ; or moulded bricks covered with plaster. 
 “ During the reigns of Mary and Elizabeth 
 (says Mr. Essex) the ornaments of Grecian ar¬ 
 chitecture were frequently imitated in burnt 
 clay, and laced the fronts of their houses, and 
 
ARCHITECTURE. ly » 
 
 covered the shafts of their chimnies; for this 
 purpose. The fashion continued till James 1. 
 when they began to make plainer chimnies, and 
 these moulded chimnies were laid aside.” 
 
 In short, the following rules may be admitted 
 concerning country-houses , as distinguished from 
 castles and castellated mansions, viz. that there 
 were two styles, the English, low, of only two 
 stories; and the Flemish, with high gables, which 
 fashion continued till the seventeenth century, 
 when Inigo Jones introduced a style entirely new, 
 viz. a long handsome front, full of large windows. 
 The projecting chimney-stacks and gables aie 
 banished from this style. Square Dutch-built 
 houses, with the top of the roof flat, leaded and 
 ball us traded, for prospect, are of contemporary 
 introduction. 
 
 Durum the wars of Charles I. some manor- 
 houses were fortified. There is a tolerable spe¬ 
 cimen at Walford in Herefordshire. The house 
 was of the Flemish high gable character, but it 
 was thus guarded :-in front it had a small 
 raised recess, ballustraded, and ascended by 
 steps; this commanded a side-long entrance (the 
 principal one) into a walled cour t of offices; that 
 walled court, and a barn opposite, commanded 
 the high road. Before arriving at the entrance 
 was a little walled court, which enfiladed the 
 
 
198 
 
 ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 road. The South side of the house was flanked 
 by a walled bowling-green and farm-yard (in 
 which cannon-shot have been found), and the 
 side of the house here consists of a long room, 
 where the soldiers were lodged. Supposing this 
 court carried, beyond is an orchard, walled, and 
 ha-haed on the inner side, with a mount in the 
 centre, which orchard and mount again com¬ 
 mands the bowling-green and farm-yard. The 
 road, winding in the rear, is enfiladed by a 
 receding part of the orchard-wall, by which shot 
 could be fired straight up the road. The North 
 side is protected by a walled garden and court, 
 which are again commanded by the orchard. 
 It was thus fortified, says tradition, in check of 
 the neighbouring garrison at Goodrich Castle; 
 and very possibly could not have been taken 
 without cannon and a regular siege. 
 
 Fish-ponds were important annexations to 
 manor-houses at all periods, and conceived ap¬ 
 pendages of dignity. 
 
 There was another use of manor-houses. 
 Pregnant women of quality used to retire 
 thither to avoid concourse of people. 
 
 Gate-houses and Lodges, as attached to 
 cashes, came much into vogue during the 
 reigns of Richard II. and Henry IV. They 
 
architecture. 
 
 199 
 
 were often elegant and embattled. When at 
 tached to the outer court, they were the we - 
 lings of the keepers, falconers, &c. In the time 
 of Elizabeth they often resemble mere inn- i e 
 openings. Hans Holbein, in 1530, introduced 
 
 a magnificent style in them. 
 
 Some particulars connected with anciei 
 houses are interesting. The to* were apart¬ 
 ments for ladies, richly decorated, and had 
 circular or octangular window. In the reign 
 of Henry VIII. many rooms were to have . 
 view into the chapel; others are connected wit 
 the parish-church by passages; certain room 
 also looked into the hall. The buttery and 
 pantry were at the lower end of this, anc at j< 
 cent to them was a parlour. Or?*** -ere 
 annexed to bed-chamber. The pnvy-diarnbe^ 
 adjoined the state-room. The Portu s oi e 
 often accompanied by a dungeon, and formerly 
 ha 1 stocks placed near it, because it was 
 place of summary punishment for the servan^ 
 and dependants. The hall was opposite the gate¬ 
 house/ It was customary for visitors to present 
 *eir coats of arms in stained g^ ^e wm- 
 
 dows of the hall or Other rooms, O w P 
 
 lice frequent instances occur. As to the 
 rous offices, the following account of Hengrave 
 
200 
 
 ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 Hall, Suffolk, built between 1535 and 1538, 
 willsupply an explanation: 
 
 “ The approach was by a straight road, raised 
 above the level of the country, fenced on each 
 side by a deep ditch, lined with a triple row of 
 trees, and terminating at a large semi-circular 
 fosse, over which a stone bridge led at some 
 little distance to the outer court. This court 
 was formed by a central lodge, the residence of 
 the keepers and falconers j and by a range of 
 low surrounding buildings, used for offices, 
 including a stable for the horses of pleasure. 
 Beyond was a moat inclosing the mansion, which 
 is a quadrangular structure of free-stone and 
 white brick, embattled, having an octagonal 
 tunet at each angle, with turrets larger and 
 more ornamented, that flank the gate-house or 
 entrance to the inner court. At some distance 
 to the East and West were detached buildings, 
 comprising the dovecote, the grange, the great 
 barn, the mill, the. forge, the great stable, and 
 various offices; separate kennels for the hounds 
 and spaniels, and mews for the hawks. The 
 mansion had its great and little parks, vineyards, 
 or orchard and gardens, a hop-ground and a 
 hemp-ground, and was well provided with fish¬ 
 ponds. A bowling-alley occupied the space 
 
£3 
 
 u 
 
 ARCHITECTURE. 201 
 
 between the North side of the house and the 
 moat, having the convenience of an open cor¬ 
 ridor, communicating with the hall; and a pah 
 of butts [for archery] was placed on an artificial 
 mound, still visible in the upper part of the 
 park. The grounds were laid out by Dutch¬ 
 men, clipping the knots, &c. a new fashion, then 
 seemingly come up, for there is this item: 
 
 ‘ Paid to the Dutchmen for clipping the knots, 
 altering the alleys, setting the grounds, finding 
 herbs, and bordering the same, xis.’ ” 
 
 I shall end with Evelyn’s account of the 
 houses of his day, the end of the 17th century: 
 
 “ The court should afford convenient light to 
 the apartments about it, and be large enough 
 for usual access. The vestibule, or porch, should 
 precede the hall; the hall the parlour; next 
 the withdrawing rooms (which are of ceremony 
 I speak, as with us in England), where the 
 first floor is commonly so composed of ante¬ 
 chambers, bed-chambers, cabinets, galleries, and 
 rooms of parade and state in the second stage, 
 suitable to the expense and dignity of the owner. 
 I say nothing of the height, and other dimen¬ 
 sions, because there are established rules; but 
 it is what I have generally observed gentlemen 
 most of all to fad in; not allowing decent pitch 
 K 5 
 
202 
 
 ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 to the respective rooms and apartments, which 
 I find they constantly repent of when it is too 
 late. One should seldom, therefore, allow less 
 than 14 feet to the first floor, 12 or 13 to the 
 second, in a dwelling-house of any considerable 
 quality; to greater fabrics, and such as ap¬ 
 proach to palaces, 16, 18, 20, &c. with regard 
 to other capacities. Nor let the less benign 
 temper of the clime (compared with other coun¬ 
 tries) be any longer the pretence; since, if the 
 building and finishing be staunch, the floors 
 well laid, apertures of doors and windows close, 
 that objection is answered. The same rules, as 
 to the consequence of rooms and economic, are 
 to be observed in the distribution of other offices, 
 even the most inferior, in which the curious 
 consult their health above all convenience, by 
 designing their best lodging chambers towards 
 the sun-rising; and so libraries, cabinets of 
 curiosities, and galleries, more to the North, 
 affording the less glaring and fittest light, of all 
 others, to pictures.” 
 
 ECCLESIASTICAL ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 Churches. In entering them the following 
 objects are to be sought: 
 
 I. The Porch , whether it contains a room 
 
CHURCHES. 
 
 203 
 
 over it; if so, it was either a school or place 
 where records were kept. The porch itself was 
 devoted to parish business, settling law suits, 
 paying rents, and • celebrating marriages. Tire 
 South porch was generally devoted to this pur¬ 
 pose. Upon the spandrils ot the arch there 
 are sometimes the arms of the founders ot the 
 church. 
 
 The Font. The larger they are, the more 
 ancient. Generally speaking, those which are 
 cylindrical or conical, without feet, are Anglo- 
 Saxon; but others, which are massy, containing 
 only a basin of stone, with very rude bas-reliefs, 
 and standing on four short thick columns, are of 
 equal antiquity. 
 
 The Rood-loft and Screen. This was the 
 gallery crossing the cliancel-arch, where stood 
 the images of the Crucifixion, Mary and John, 
 and where the musicians played. Commonly 
 nothing more remains of it than a piece ot the 
 screen below it, and the door of the staircase 
 
 leading to it in the wall. 
 
 Advancing into the chancel, observe if the 
 East end is curved, because that is decisive 
 evidence that the church is older than the 
 Conquest. Upon one side ot the altar is often 
 one or more stalls for the officiating priests, and 
 
204 
 
 ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 a piscina, i. c. a basin in the wall, sometimes 
 richly adorned with tabernacle work, by way of 
 canopy. Into this basin the Priest emptied the 
 water in which he washed his hands before 
 mass, the cleansings of the chalice, &c. 
 
 Besides the piscina, there is a locker in the 
 wall, which was used to contain the cruets of 
 mixed wine and water for the altar, oil for the 
 h°l> unction, chrism, &c. Lockers are more 
 ancient than piscina, which probably are not 
 ot the Anglo-Saxon or early Norman asras, but 
 subsequent additions. 
 
 On the North side of the chancel, if there be 
 an arch in the wall, or a table-tomb, it might 
 contain an actual interment, yet it was further 
 intended to support the paschal, or wooden box, 
 by means of which the resurrection of Christ 
 was represented at Easter. 
 
 Pillars are sometimes pierced for the conve¬ 
 nience of viewing the host, when elevated. 
 
 Chancel-doors are supposed to be for peni¬ 
 tents coming to, or going from confession. 
 Instances occur of these doors communicating 
 with small rooms for this purpose. 
 
 In some churches, just under the roof where 
 the nave is separated from the chancel, is a 
 small arch, intended to commuuicate the sound 
 
TOMBS. 
 
 205 
 
 of the Saints’ bell, which was rung at the eleva¬ 
 tion of the host. At Tewkesbury, this bell was 
 hunsr in a beautiful demi-turret of tabernacle 
 
 c5 
 
 work, fixed into the wall. 
 
 In Abbey churches, there are Lady-chapels, 
 or retro-choirs, where sick and strange monks 
 attended divine service, and triforia, or gal¬ 
 leries, running round the church, used for the 
 convenience of suspending tapestry, &c. 
 
 In church-yards the interments are mostly on 
 the South sides for the benefit of paters and 
 aves, from the worshippers coming to church. 
 Unconsecrated ground was devoted to the burial 
 of excommunicates. Of the usual annexation of 
 the cross, see under that article. 
 
 Tombs. The following extracts from the 
 « Encyclopedia of Antiquities” will furnish 
 
 much elucidation ot them . 
 
 1. The first form is the coffin lid prismatic, 
 or triangular, to shoot off wet, because the 
 bottom part only lay in the ground. 
 
 2. Prismatic, but carved on the lid A. D. 
 
 1160. 
 
 3. Tables, whereon are effigies or sculpture. 
 Priests distinguished by chalices in their hands 
 on the breasts; Prelates by Pontificals; Knights 
 by armour. 
 
206 
 
 ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 4. Tombs, with heads or bodies emerging 
 from them, and under arches and tombs, with 
 arches over them, 13th century. 
 
 5. Burials in chapels, 15th century. 
 
 6. Inlaid with brass.—Altar monuments, be¬ 
 ginning of the 16 th century. 
 
 7. Monuments against the wall, chiefly since 
 the Reformation. 
 
 Monuments within the substance of the walls 
 or chapels. Founders or re-founders: if the 
 figures be religious, incumbents, perhaps, who 
 built or rebuilt the church. 
 
 Crossed Legs . All married persons. Badge 
 of croisaders. They occur on brass plates. 
 
 Effigies on Tombs. Only portraits after the 
 13th century. 
 
 Wooden Figures. Of various ages, half re¬ 
 cumbent, not uncommon with the Greeks and 
 Romans. 
 
 Brass Statue. That of Henry III. the first. 
 
 Flat Gravestone. 13th century. 
 
 Deviations from the Gothic forms of Tombs. 
 The first is the monument of Mary, Countess of 
 Lenox, mother of Lord Darnley. Skeletons in 
 shrouds succeeded, and were imitated by corpses 
 in shrouds, tied at head and foot. 
 
 Angels appear at the corner, carrying the 
 
TOMBS. 
 
 207 
 
 soul to heaven. In the 16th century, figuies 
 supported their heads on the right hands, an 
 attitude taken from Greek and Roman monu¬ 
 ments. Children occur under the feet of pa¬ 
 rents. A kneeling attitude for children takes 
 date not till after the Reformation, nor for pa¬ 
 rents, except to the cross, nor the infant in 
 swaddling clothes, nor cradle. 
 
 Situations of Tombs. Rectors and Vicars’ 
 places, near and about the altar, or in the chan¬ 
 cel ; chaplains and chantry priests in their res¬ 
 pective chapels; and lords of manors, patrons, 
 and founders in the chancel. 
 
 Animals at the feet. Lions allude to Ps. xci. 
 t\ 13. Sometimes family supporters are there, 
 always after the Reformation. Dogs at the feet 
 of ladies, perhaps lap-dogs; in knights and 
 nobles, companions of their sports, or symbols 
 of their rank. The latest instance of animals at 
 the feet is in 1645. The next disposition of 
 animals is that of supporters of various memo¬ 
 rials of the parties, whose arms or supporters 
 they are. 
 
 Cumbent figures occur till 1676. 
 
 Mantle and Ring. Ladies who took the vow 
 
 of chastity. 
 
 Shrines. Sepulchres of Saints. Burial of 
 
208 
 
 ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 eminent prelates, or religious, close to the high 
 altar, the next practice to that of enshrining. 
 The coffins of men of exemplary piety and mor¬ 
 tification were placed on a level with the surface 
 of the earth; the bodies of Saints of the second 
 class rested upon the floor, whilst the remains 
 of martyrs were elevated. 
 
 Figures on the sides of Altar-tombs, &c. called 
 Mourners or Weepers. The scroll in the hands 
 of these, or other persons, was called a reason. 
 
 Epitaphs. The first inscribed funeral monu¬ 
 ments are those bearing the names of Romanized 
 Britons in Cornwall or Wales. A small hand 
 .instead of capitals, was introduced about the 7th 
 century. Lombardick capitals became general 
 on tomb-stones, 13th century; 1361 the latest 
 instance. The text hand introduced about 17 
 years after continued to the reign of Elizabeth. 
 To the Lombardick capitals succeeded inscrip¬ 
 tions in text letters, with abbreviations, engraved 
 on brass. Roman round hand took place about 
 the end of Henry VIII. The old English 
 about the middle of the 14th century. Work¬ 
 men or officers of churches, not unfrequently 
 had epitaphs on the outsidewalls. A and X2 the 
 most accustomed form of epitaph, and the mo- 
 nogiam; in after ages, Hie jacet, or Orate pro 
 
209 
 
 U 
 
 ARMOUR. 
 
 animd. French epitaphs are as early as the 
 13th century. [They are earlier. F.] Savage, 
 in his “ Memorabilia,” says, that Orate pro 
 animd was omitted temp. Edward VI.; that the 
 oldest instance of a skeleton monument is in 
 1241; that the cross-legged figures are to be 
 placed between 1224 and 1313; that the first 
 table monument is that of King John, who died 
 in 1216, and that the fashion lasted from 1300 
 to James I. 
 
 The ages of monumental effigies in Armour 
 may be thus determined: 
 
 Rustred, ringed, trellised, tegulated, mascled, 
 and edge-ringed armour, obtained in the early 
 centuries. 
 
 Thirteenth century. Complete mail, with only 
 knee-pieces of plate. John is the first English 
 king who appears in a sur-coat. 
 
 Fourteenth century. Mixed mail and plate, 
 but most of the former. 
 
 Fifteenth century. In 1400, all plate but the 
 gorget. In 1416, all plate occurs. 
 
 Edward V. The armour on one arm differing 
 from that of the other. 
 
 Richard III. Most superb armour. Very 
 remarkable radiated ornaments at the elbows. 
 
 Henry VII. An ornamented cuirass in the 
 
210 
 
 ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 form of a pair of stays, which terminate at the 
 hip, in a petticoat covered with plates of steel. 
 
 Edward VI. Very long waisted breast-plates. 
 
 Elizabeth. The body armour seldom lower 
 than just beneath the hips. 
 
 James I. In the latter part of his reign, the 
 jambs, or leg-armour, almost wholly laid aside. 
 
 Charles I. No armour below the knees. 
 
 Cromwell. Cuirasses without garde-de-reines. 
 No armour down to the knees. 
 
 Cross-legged Monuments. When the figure is 
 in the attitude of sheathing the sword, it is sup¬ 
 posed to designate the performance of the vow 
 for making the Crusade. 
 
 The first instance of arms sculptured upon 
 sepulchral effigies, is in 1144. 
 
 Arms used upon the mantle just au corps , or 
 boddice, as well as copes of arms, occur in the 
 14th century, and were in complete fashion in 
 the next. 
 
 Female Costumes. A few short rules may 
 suffice. Females are muffled up, and no con¬ 
 striction of the abdomen, as by stays, appears 
 before the 14th centurv. 
 
 Thirteenth century. Gowns, with or without 
 sleeves, supersede mantles and copes. Caps like 
 coronets first appear, as does also the horned 
 
FEMALE COSTUME. 
 
 head-dress, i. e. one like the top of a heart in a 
 pack of cards.—The Wimple , a sort of hood 
 brought round the neck beneath the chin: the 
 Gorget , or neck covering poked up by pins, so 
 that the head seemed to be within a fork : chap¬ 
 lets or garlands of flowers first appear. 
 
 Fourteenth century . Gowns of various kinds. 
 Rochets (gowns without sleeves); Bibs and 
 Aprons; Corsets , fitting close to the body, with 
 petticoats; Boddices , or stay-formed vestments, 
 worn outside; Josephs , buttoned down the 
 front; Steeple , or conical bonnet; Horned head 
 dress, as before; the hair inclosed in nets and 
 bags; the body costume tight, showing the shape, 
 the tunicks of the women in the preceding cen¬ 
 tury being loose, and only reeved in at the 
 waist. 
 
 Fifteenth century. Enormous trains to the 
 gowns; in the end of the century, borders 
 substituted instead of trains; surplice-formed 
 dresses, with foiling capes; corsets over the 
 other dress; boddiced waists; steepled and 
 horned head-dresses; the hair in a cylindrical 
 net, with a square compartment behind, affixed 
 at right angles, like a boat’s rudder. 
 
 Sixteenth century. Ruffs, tippets, stays, sto¬ 
 machers, boddiced waists, petticoats full round 
 the hips. 
 
212 
 
 ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 Figures for Table Tombs. The mode of 
 making them, and their respective denomina¬ 
 tions, are thus given in the contract for the tomb 
 of Richard Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick, in 
 the time of Henry VI. and Edward IV.: 
 
 “ Fourteen images embossed of lords and la¬ 
 dies in divers vestures, called Weepers , to stand 
 in housings (niches) made about the tomb, 
 those images to be made in breadth, length, 
 thickness, &c. to xiv patterns made of timber. 
 Also he shall make xviii lesse images of Angels 
 to stand in their housings , as shall be appointed 
 by patterns, whereof ix after one side, and ix 
 after another. Also he must make a hearse 
 (roof) to stand on the tomb, according to 
 pattern.”— Gough. 
 
 The monumental effigies were also formed 
 from models made during life. 
 
 Isabel Le Despencer, Countess of Warwick, 
 in her instructions for her tomb, at the Abbey 
 of Tewkesbury, directs “ that her statue shall be 
 made naked, with her hair cast backwards 
 [the hood thrown backwards was a sign of 
 mourning], according to the design and model, 
 that one Thomas Porchalion had for this pur¬ 
 pose, and Mary Magdalen laying her hands 
 across, with St. John the Evangelist on the 
 
PAINTED GLASS. 
 
 213 
 
 right side, and on the left side St. Anthony, 
 and at her feet a scocheon, impaling her armes 
 with those of the Earl her last husband, sup¬ 
 ported by two gryphons, but on the sides there¬ 
 of the statues of poor men and women in theii 
 poor array, with their beads in their hands.” 
 
 Painted Glass. There are no whole-length 
 figures earlier than the 14th century. 
 
 °If figures, or arms of the same family are fre¬ 
 quent, they were either founders of, or great 
 benefactors to the building*. 
 
 Coats of arms, with epitaphs in painted glass, 
 were given to church-windows as late as 1635. 
 — Dugdale. 
 
 Events in the history of the patron were re¬ 
 corded in the church windows f. 
 
 * “ I am of opinion (says Sir Will. Dugdale) 
 that a great part of the Church of Grendon was built 
 by the before specified Sir William [Chetwynd], 
 for it is evident that the pictures in glass of many of 
 that family, in their surcoats of arms, were set -up 
 there about the time of Edw. HI. and Rich. I. 
 
 f The donation of the Castle of 1 amworth by 
 William the Conqueror to llob. Marmion was re¬ 
 corded in the East window of the chancel of the 
 Church .—Dugdale 
 
The following accounts concerning the other 
 subjects of painted glass is extracted from the 
 Encyclopedia of Antiquities, vol. i. pp. 99_103. 
 
 Andrew. Has his peculiar cross beside him. 
 
 Anastasia. A palm branch. 
 
 Anthony. A tail-cross and pig by his side; 
 the bell at the end of the cross in the Legend. 
 In Gough’s account, round the neck of the pig. 
 
 Agnes. A lamb, from her appearance to her 
 parents, who were watching at her sepulchre, 
 with a lamb by her side. 
 
 Agatha. Carries her breasts in a dish, be¬ 
 cause they were cut off and miraculously restored. 
 
 Agathon. A crosier and a book. 
 
 Anne. A book in her hand. 
 
 Apollonia. A palm branch and tooth. She 
 was applied to for curing the tooth ache. 
 
 Asaph. A bishop with a crosier, the hand 
 elevated in benediction. 
 
 Aydan. A bishop with a crosier, his soul 
 carried in a sheet by two angels to Heaven. 
 
 Barbara. Palm branch and book, or tower, 
 in which she was confined, with whom the cut in 
 the Legend. 
 
 Bartholomew. A knife. 
 
 Barnabas. A book open in one hand, a staff 
 in the other. 
 
 
EMBLEMS OF SAINTS. 
 
 215 
 
 Blaise. His body was torn with combs of 
 non, whence his symbol. 
 
 Bridget. A book and crosier. 
 
 Ccecilia. She is generally represented playing 
 on the organ, or harp; but her existence is 
 dubious, as she is only first mentioned in the 
 end of the sixth century. At Trasterrere she 
 is a cumbent statue, with the face downwards, 
 evidently alluding to the Legend, which says, 
 that the executioner, being unable to behead 
 her, left her half dead to linger three days. 
 
 Catherine. Her wheel, or a sword pointed 
 downwards. 
 
 Clare. Holds the expositorium ; in the cuts 
 of the Legend, a palm branch. 
 
 Clement. The papal crown and an anchor; 
 for he was drowned with one tied about his neck. 
 
 Christopher. He is always represented in 
 England by a gigantick figure carrying our Sa¬ 
 viour over a river. He was the patron of field- 
 sports, whence figures fishing, wrestling, &c. 
 accompanying his picture. His figure m our 
 Churches was commonly placed opposite the 
 South door, or just within it; abroad, at the 
 gates and entrances: because it was held that 
 whoever saw his image would be safe from pes¬ 
 tilence. The Greek Christians represented him 
 
216 
 
 ANTIGIUITIES. 
 
 with a clog’s head, like Anubis, to show that he 
 was of the country of the Cynocephali. 
 
 Circumcision. Two women hold a child on 
 an altar, before a man looking upwards. 
 
 Conception of the Virgin Mary. A man and 
 woman embracing and kissing before the door 
 of a house. 
 
 Corpus Christi. Two men carrying a shrine 
 upon poles resting on their shoulders. Such 
 shrines were matters of bequest. 
 
 Cosme and Damyan, eminent in medicine. 
 They are conversing together; one holds a botde 
 high in his hand (as casting urine), the other 
 has a covered vessel in one hand, and forceps 
 or shears in the other. A man had a cancer, 
 which had eaten away his thigh. Cosme and 
 Damyan in his sleep brought an instrument and 
 ointment (whence the cut), and cutting off the 
 thigh of an Ethiopian corpse, substituted it for 
 the cancerous one of the patient. They were 
 patron saints in wounds, ulcers, &c, 
 
 Crispin and Crispinian. Two men at work 
 in a shoemaker’s shop, which profession they 
 followed at Rome. 
 
 Cuthbert . Carries St. Oswald’s head in his 
 
 hand. 
 
 Dedication of the Church . Three men stand 
 
EMBLEMS OF SAINTS. 217 
 
 before an altar, before which is a cross; on the 
 side a taper. 
 
 Dennis , Saint. Headless; carries his head, 
 mitred, in his hand. 
 
 Dorothy , carries a basket of fruit from the 
 roses, spices, and apples which she had gathered 
 in the garden of Christ, and which a child pre¬ 
 sented after her death to Theophilus the Scribe, 
 and vanished away, upon which he was con¬ 
 verted. Where her life was written or read in 
 any house, it was deemed a protection from 
 lightning, thieves, fire, sudden death, and de¬ 
 cease without the Sacrament. 
 
 Edward , King and Martyr , (murdered* at 
 Corfe,) appeared crowned to a man in bed, 
 whom he ordered to take measures for removal 
 of his body. 
 
 Edward the Confessor. Crowned with a nim¬ 
 bus and sceptre, holding the ring which he gave 
 to the poor man. 
 
 Edmund\ King. An arrow. He was shot 
 with arrows by the Danes, under Hingnar and 
 Hubba. 
 
 Elizabeth. St. John and the lamb at her 
 feet, from her having appointed that Saint 
 u warden of her v) T 8y nte *” 
 
 L 
 
218 ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 Epiphany. The Virgin Mary holding the 
 infant Christ, and the three kings offering gifts. 
 
 Erasmus , lies on the ground, while his bowels 
 are extracting, by being wound round a wind¬ 
 lass above. “ And they leyde thys holie martyr 
 under the wyndlace alle naked,” &c. 
 
 Evangelists , symbol of. See Mark i. p. 221. 
 
 Exaltation of the Cross. King kneeling and 
 worshipping the cross, held by a person in 
 Heaven. 
 
 Faith , Saint. A gridiron, like St. Laurence. 
 
 Felix. With an anchor like Clement. 
 
 Francis. “ This holy man, Saynt Fraunceys, 
 saw in a vision above him Seraphyn crucifyed, 
 the whych emprynted in hym the signe of his 
 crucefyinge,” &c. Accordingly he appears in 
 the cut with the Seraphim, inflicting the five 
 wounds of Christ. 
 
 Flower , Saint. Her head in her hand, and a 
 flower sprouting out of her neck. 
 
 Fyacre. A long hermit’s robe; figure kneel¬ 
 ing and praying, a string of beads in one hand. 
 
 Gabriel. A lily, a flower-pot full of which is 
 placed between him and the Virgin. 
 
 Giles. A hind with its head in his lap (from 
 the one that took refuge with him), and a branch 
 
". L- 
 
 EMBLEMS OF SAINTS. 219 
 
 of a tree sprouting before him (the thorny bush 
 not to be penetrated). 
 
 George , Saint. Represented with the dragon, 
 exactly as on the Signs, in the stained glass at 
 Sodbury, co. Gloucester; but Selden says, that 
 the dragon is only symbolical. 
 
 Innocents , Slaughter of. Herod is seated on 
 a throne; two or three persons are standing by, 
 one of whom holds an infant, which he is pier¬ 
 cing with a sword. 
 
 Invention of the Cross. The Cross, lifted out 
 of a tomb amidst spectators. 
 
 James the Great. A club and a saw. 
 
 James the Less. A pilgrim’s staff, book, scrip, 
 and hat, with an escallop shell in it. 
 
 John the Baptist. Has a long mantle and 
 long wand, surmounted by a small shaft forming 
 a cross, and a lamb is generally at his feet, or 
 crouching, or imprest on a book in his hand, or 
 on his hand without a book. 
 
 John the Evangelist. Has a chalice, with a 
 dragon or serpent issuing out of it, and an open 
 book. [In the cuts of the Golden Legend, 
 xxxvii. John the Evangelist is writing in a book. 
 John the Almoner has no cut, nor John Porte 
 Latin, nor John the Abbot, nor John Chrysos¬ 
 tom. John and Paul are conversing; one witli 
 
220 
 
 ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 a book before him, a clove, with a scroll in his 
 mouth, flying above. John the Baptist has, in 
 the Golden Legend, the cut as before given. 
 
 John of Beverley . Pontifically habited ; his 
 right hand blessing, his left holding a cross. 
 
 John the Almoner . A pilgrim w T ith a nimbus, 
 a loaf in the right hand, pilgrim’s staff’ in the 
 left, and a large rosary. 
 
 Lady of Pity. The Virgin Mary weeping 
 over the body of Christ, whilst Nicodemus was 
 making the tomb. It is engraved Arcliaeolog. 
 xiv. pi. xlviii. She holds the body in her lap. 
 
 Laurence. A book and gridiron; so the 
 Gold. Leg. but the gridiron (in the legend, 
 an iron bed) has only three bars, and those 
 lengthways. 
 
 Lewis , Saint , (King of France.) A King 
 kneeling : at his feet the arms of France, a dove 
 dropping on his head a bishop’s blessing. 
 
 Lilies in a pot. The never-failing symbols of 
 the Virgin Mary. 
 
 Loy , carries a crosier and hammer. He was 
 the patron saint of Smiths. 
 
 Lucy. A short staff in her hand: behind 
 her is the Devil; a representation common to 
 others. 
 
 Luke. In the cuts of the Legend, St. Luke 
 
EMBLEMS OF SAINTS. 
 
 221 
 
 is sitting before a reading desk, beneath which 
 appears an ox’s head, “ because he devised 
 about the presthode of Jes. Christ.” See Mark . 
 
 Margaret. She treads, or pierces a dragon 
 with a cross; sometimes holds a book, sometimes 
 wears a crown. In the cuts of the Legend she 
 holds between her hands, in a praying position, 
 a cross bottonee; below, appears the head of a 
 lion or beast biting her robe; but it must mean 
 the dragon which assailed her, and was expelled 
 by the sign of the cross. 
 
 Mark . Has no cut in the Legend, but his 
 known symbol is the lion. Of the origin of the 
 symbols of the Evangelists, there has been much 
 discussion. But acording to the Legend the 
 attributes are taken from the four faces in the 
 first chapter of Ezekiel, allegorized. 
 
 Martin. He is painted on glass at Oxford, 
 on horseback, with a beggar behind him on foot, 
 to whom he is giving his cloak ; i. e. the half of 
 it, which he cut in two. 
 
 Mary. 1. the Virgin. She generally carries 
 the child Jesus; but a lily is also her symbol. 
 In the Annunciation, she is seated at a table 
 reading; Gabriel is cloathed but winged; upon 
 his mantle a cross; in one hand a sceptre, sur¬ 
 mounted by a fleur-de-lis. See Conception , 
 L 3 
 
222 
 
 ANT1Q.UITIES. 
 
 Lady of Pity , and L%. 2. Mary Egyptiaca is 
 
 entirely covered with her hair, to represent her 
 living in the desert, and being “ all black over 
 all her body of the grete hete and brennynge of 
 the sun.” 3. Mary Magdalen carries a box of 
 ointment. 
 
 Matthew , carries a fuller’s club. Elsewhere 
 he is expounding a book held before him by a 
 young man. 
 
 Michael . In armour, with a cross, or scales, 
 weighing souls. In the Legend he is in armour 
 winged; in one hand holding a sword, in the 
 posture of going to strike, in the other a cross 
 bottonee. 
 
 Nicholas. A tub with three or four naked 
 infants in it is his symbol; sometimes the chil¬ 
 dren are at his feet. He was the patron saint 
 of children. 
 
 Patriarchs , Sfc. Abraham holds a tremendous 
 sabre, ready to strike Isaac, kneeling on an 
 altar. An angel lays hold of the sword. Be¬ 
 neath is a ram, and servant with a bundle of 
 wood. Noah looks out of the window of the 
 ark, at the dove with the branch. Esau is 
 coming to Isaac seated, with bow and arrows. 
 Joseph is conversing with his brethren, among 
 whom is Benjamin, a boy. Moses, with cow’s 
 
EMBLEMS OF SAINTS. 228 
 
 horns, is kneeling before an altar, God speaking 
 to him out of a cloud. Saul is in a rich tunick, 
 and crowned hat, a harp behind him. David 
 is kneeling, an angel above with a sword. So¬ 
 lomon in a rich tunick stands under an arch. 
 Job sits naked on the ground, his three friends 
 talking to him. Judith, a man is carrying a 
 head upon the point of a sword, females meeting 
 him with harps and musical instruments; the cut 
 properly belonging to David with the head of 
 Goliath. 
 
 Paul. A sword; sometimes a book, or draw¬ 
 ing a sword across the knee. In the Legend 
 the Conversion is represented by Christ appear¬ 
 ing in Heaven, with the cross, Paul looking up 
 to him, and his horse fallen under him. In his 
 Legend, as “ Paule thappostle and doctour,” he 
 carries a book open. In the other hand a staff*. 
 
 Paul the Hermit , as Fyacre , p. 218. 
 
 Peter . The keys, and a triple cross; some¬ 
 times a church. 
 
 Philip. A crosier. 
 
 Popes. Triple crown and anchor, or triple 
 cross, and the dove whispering in their ears. 
 
 Roche. Boots, a wallet, dog sitting with a 
 loaf in his mouth ; Roche shows a boil on his 
 thigh. The dog is Gotarde’s hound, who 
 
 / 
 
224 
 
 ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 brought him whole loaves at a time, and the 
 boil shews the pestilence which had seized him. 
 
 Sebastian . Pierced through with arrows ; his 
 arms tied, and two men with bows standing by 
 his side; he was so pierced by order of Diocle- 
 sian, but it was not the means of his death. 
 
 Seven Sacraments . Seven Works of Mercy . 
 Common subjects each for a window of stained 
 glass. 
 
 Seven Sleepers . As many persons praying. 
 
 Stephen . A stone in his hand and book. 
 
 Theodora . The Devil tempting her, and 
 taking her hand. 
 
 Theodore . Armed, a huge sabre by his side; 
 in his other hand the ancient bill, of the halberd 
 kind. 
 
 Thomas of Canterbury . Kneeling, a man 
 behind with a sword, the middle edge of which 
 is fixed in Becket’s skull. 
 
 Ursula . A book and arrow, because she was 
 thus shot through by the Prince of the Huns. 
 
 Virgins , eleven thousand . Young women 
 
 crowned kneeling. 
 
&Z5 
 
 Crosses 
 
 of various kinds will frequently arrest the at¬ 
 tention of the Traveller. The following ac¬ 
 count may therefore be acceptable: 
 
 Stone Crosses owed their origin to marking 
 the Druid stones with crosses, in order to 
 change the worship without breaking the preju¬ 
 dice. Many of the crosses presumed to be 
 Runic rather belong to the civilized Britons. 
 Crosses were also erected by many of the Chris¬ 
 tian kings before a battle, or great enterprize, 
 with prayers and supplications for the assistance 
 of Almighty God. Whitaker thinks that crosses 
 with scroll-work are always antecedent to the 
 Conquest. 
 
 Preaching Crosses. 1 hat of the Black-friars, 
 or Friars Preachers, in Hereford, is of an hex¬ 
 agonal shape, open on each side, and raised on 
 steps. In the centre is a kind of table of the 
 same shape, supporting the shaft, which, branch¬ 
 ing out into ramifications, forms the roof, and 
 passing through it appears above in a mutilated 
 state. The top of the pulpit is embattled, and 
 round the cross were, no doubt, pentices lor the 
 congregation, as there were at St. Paul’s Cross 
 in London. 
 
 l 5 
 
226 
 
 ANTIGLUITIES. 
 
 Market Crosses. As crosses were in every 
 place designed to check a worldly spirit; these 
 were intended to inculcate upright intentions 
 and fairness of dealing. In almost every town 
 which had a religious foundation, there was one 
 of these crosses, to which the peasants resorted 
 to vend provisions. 
 
 Weeping Crosses; because penances were 
 finished before them. 
 
 Street Crosses. Here sermons were preached, 
 royal proclamations made, laws published, and 
 malefactors sometimes hanged. The corpse, in 
 conveyance to church, was set down there, that 
 all the people attending might pray for the soul 
 of the deceased. Mendicants stationed them¬ 
 selves there to beg alms for Christ’s sake. 
 “ Qwersoever,” says an ancient MS. “ a cross 
 standeth, there is a forgiveness of payne.” 
 
 Crosses of Memorial. Where the bier of an 
 eminent person stopped, in attestation of a 
 miracle performed there,—in commemoration 
 of battles, murder, and fatal events,—sepulchral 
 mementoes. 
 
 Crosses for Landmarks. Mentioned anno 
 528, and common afterwards. Kings and Lords 
 used them as tokens of dominion; and they 
 
CROSSES. 
 
 were especial landmarks of the Templars and 
 Hospitalers. The form of a cross was used that 
 no man for conscience sake should remove them. 
 
 Crosses of small stones , where a person had 
 been killed. 
 
 Crosses on the High-way : frequently placed 
 to call the thoughts of the passenger to a sense 
 of religion, and restrain the predatory incursions 
 of robbers,—usually erected also in the way 
 leading to parochial churches, possibly for sta¬ 
 tions, when the roads were visited in processions. 
 
 Crosses at the entrance of Churches , to inspire 
 recollection and reverence. 
 
 Crosses in attestation of a Peace made . 
 
 
INDEX 
 
 TO THE 
 
 TOURIST’S GRAMMAR. 
 
 Acropolis 181 
 Alcoves 128 
 Amphitheatres 179 
 Approaches 76 
 Aquatic Trees 73 
 Aqueducts, Roman 179 
 Architecture, picturesque 80 
 Architecture 159—Orders of 162 
 Egyptian 164—Grecian 164- 
 Gothic 167 
 
 Architecture, Ecclesiastical 202 
 Armour, Monumental Effigies 
 in 209 
 
 Avenues 19—25, 83 
 Banks 55, 145 
 Basilicae 1/8 
 Baths, Roman 182 
 Belts 19—25, 84 
 Bricks 162 
 Bridges 73—76 
 Bridges, Roman 180 
 Brooks 72 
 
 Brown’s Plan of Landscape 
 making 84 
 
 Buildings, Situation, Appear¬ 
 ance, Views, &e. Ornamental 
 86-96, 113 
 
 Cairns and Carnedhs 145 
 Castles 188 
 Castrametation 146 
 Churches and Church-yards, 
 picturesque 105, 106 
 Circus 179 
 Clumps 18 
 Colonnades 107 
 Costume, Female 210 
 Cottages 100 
 Crosses 224 
 Ditches 145 
 
 Earthworks, various 143—149 
 
 Ecclesiastical Architecture 202 
 
 Edifices, Greek and Roman 171 
 
 Edifices of the Middle Age 188 
 
 Epitaphs 205 
 
 Farm Houses 106 
 
 Farms 1 13 
 
 Fir Plantations 28 
 
 Flowei Gardens 108 
 
index 
 
 229 
 
 Fruit Trees 109 
 Gate Houses 198 
 Gilpin’s Works on the Pictu¬ 
 resque, Epitome of, Intro¬ 
 duction i—cvi. 
 
 Grottoes 128 
 Ground 3 
 Hills 109 
 
 Houses, Beauty and Ugliness 
 of, &c. 97—Roman 183—Fle¬ 
 mish or High Gable 192—Low 
 English 193—Border Man¬ 
 sions 195—Houses of the 16th 
 century, ib .—Italian 196— 
 Houses of 17th century 201 
 Insulae, or Houses of Distinction 
 185 
 
 Islands 60 
 Lakes 62 
 Lawns 111 
 Lodges 101, 198 
 Masonry,Cyclopean 159—Greek 
 and Roman 160,161—English 
 162 
 
 Mausolea 187 
 Mills 112 
 
 Monumental Effigies 209— 
 Crossed-legged Monuments 
 210 
 
 Mountains 109 
 Obelisks, Roman 182 
 Offices attached to Mansions 102 
 Orchards 112 
 
 Ornamental Buildings 113— 
 Farms 113 
 
 Painted Glass 213 
 Parks 114 
 Paths, &c. 137 
 Picturesque Scenery 1 
 Plantations 26—Thinning 31 — 
 Disposition 32—38 
 Pools 62, 69 
 Prospects 113 
 Regularity 118 
 Rills 72 
 
 Rivers, Natural 51—Artificial 
 59 
 
 Rivulets 72 
 Rocks 46 
 
 Roads, Picturesque 118 
 Roads, British 151—Anglo- 
 Saxon, 152 -Roman, ib. 
 Romantic Scenery 124 
 Ruins 124 
 
 Saints, Emblems of 214—224 
 Scenery, Subjects of, alphabet! 
 
 cally arranged 76—137 
 Settlements 153 
 Sewers, Roman 180 
 Shops, Roman 185 
 Shrubberies 125 
 Stadium 179 
 Stoneworks 157 
 Summer Houses 128 
 Temples 129 
 Temples Roman 176 
 Terraces 130 
 Thatch 130 
 Theatres, Roman 178 
 Tiles 162 
 
230 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Tombs, Roman 187 
 Tombs, English 205—Figures 
 on Table Tombs 212 
 Towns, Picturesque 130—An¬ 
 cient 153 
 
 Town Walls, Roman 181 
 Treasuries, Roman 183 
 Trees, simple characters of 39— 
 Picturesque, &c. 40—Single 
 Trees 44—Aquatic 73 
 
 Triumphal Arches, Roman 113 
 Vales, Valius 131 
 Villages, Picturesque 135—An¬ 
 cient 153 
 Uniformity 118 
 Walks 125, 137 
 Water 51 
 Waterfalls 71 
 Wood 12 
 
 %* For Index to Epitome of Gilpin’s Works, see p. civ. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 London : John Nichols and Son, 25, Parliament-street. 
 

 
 • i