Old Chestnut-tree at Cotele. COTELE; AND THE EDGCUMBES OF THE OLDEN TIME. BY MRS. BRAY. PART THE FIRST. ON the borders of the county of Cornwall, where it is separated from that of Devon by the River Tamar, stands, in the parish of Calstock, an ancient mansion, known by the name of Cotele. It is an object of interest with the antiquary and the lover of the picturesque, as an example of a fair baronial dwelling of the olden time; and the care which has been observed to prevent modern innovation from doing mischief, and to preserve the various decorations in tapestry, furniture, &c. reflects great credit on the good taste and feeling of the noble proprietors-the Earls of Mount Edgcumbe. The house is built of stone, and, though the walls by which the court yard was once surrounded, and the principal gateway, are much decayed, yet the mansion itself is very nearly entire; so that on entering the quadrangle, or interior court, the eye is at once arrested by a striking combina tion of that strength and magnificence so characteristic of the habits and bomes of our forefathers. Tradition avers that nine hundred years have elapsed since the building of Cotele; this, however, is not the fact, for, though there might have been some former dwelling of that date, the present is not older than the latter part of the thirteenth, or the beginning of the fourteenth, century. Many portions are evidently not more ancient than the reign of Henry VII. the common date of most of the architectural remains in this neighbourhood. fearful contests of the Red and White Roses having then ceased, by the union of the houses of York and Lancaster, the nobility and gentry had leisure to employ their days of peace in the repairs or re-erection of their country residences; and monasteries and churches also underwent renovation and improvement throughout the West. The It was during a summer of more than twenty years ago when I first visited Cotele, in company with some friends near and most dear to me, amongst whom was a beloved and now lamented brother, whose antiquarian knowledge rendered him a most desirable associate in such an excursion.* The day was delightful, and by the lively and brilliant aspect which it afforded to every object in the surrounding scenery, added to the pleasure of the drive from Tavistock to the borders of Cornwall. That animating influence of the great luminary, when the heat is not oppressive, and the clouds are just sufficient to relieve by their passing shadows the monotony of uninterrupted sunshine, renders a summer's day in England superior, perhaps in climate, as well as in its picturesque effects, to every other country in Europe. In Spain or Portugal, such a day nearly kills the traveller with heat; in France it is but little less oppressive; whilst in Italy, with all its boasted charms, there is truly a sad want of clouds even in the most glorious scenes. Landscape painters and nice observers of nature know well that, whatever may be the forms of mountain, hill, or valley, or the variety and richness of their accompaniments, it is from the sky they derive all their finest and most imposing effects; thus proving that the physical, like the moral world, must receive its principal characteristics of beauty from the higher and nobler world of Heaven. We passed in our drive the lofty hills and romantic scenery of Newbridge, where the Tamar forms the line of demarcation between the sister counties, and glides along the valley with a repose so profound that its unbroken surface presents the bright and luminous appearance of the clearest mirror. The genius of our English Claude here found a subject for that pictorial poetry which renders the early paintings of this great artist so replete with grace and feeling. Turner, many years ago, painted the view of Newbridge from the hill above it, on the Devonshire side of the river, and dignified the manufactory (which stands on the opposite height, and somewhat injures the scene), by giving it the air of a Venetian building, with the addition of veranda, blinds, &c. The bridge that gives its name to this spot no longer merits its first appellation, since it is too venerable from antiquity to be with propriety any longer called new. It exhibits on its grey, aged, and well-turned arches a beautiful robe of ivy. Although the Tamar is here navigable, it ceases to be so at a very short distance above the bridge, towards the interior of the counties. But below it, it flows on its stately course to the harbour of Plymouth, passing at the foot of Morwel rocks, in the most enchanting manner. These are here seen bare, abrupt, or jutting; there partially hidden with copsewood and purple heath, the whole line of their towering heights diversified with the richest and most varied tints that colour can supply to give them life and beauty. The surrounding hills are also striking. Some rise from the banks of the river, and are clothed with wood, whilst the patches of scattered meadow-land on their sides, or in the vallies, studded with many a white cottage, like specks in the landscape, produce that pleasing effect which is always derived from a sense of inhabitation in every country. Ascending the steep line of road beyond Newbridge, on the Cornish side, the view continues to enlarge and expand before the traveller with great magnificence, and is far superior to all the celebrated views of a somewhat similar character on the banks of the Loire. For now, looking down on the Tamar, the vast range of Morwel rocks is seen in all its grandeur-wild, lofty, broken; whilst beyond and far above these, arise, from distance and the effects of the passing clouds often of an aerial hue, tor above tor, the heights and abrupt acclivities of Dartmoor. I have seen the view from this spot at the evening hour, when the glow of sunset and its accompanying hues of the deepest and richest purples have altogether presented such combinations of surpassing loveliness, that, whilst the eye drank them in, the heart felt that elevation which is derived from contemplating the most gorgeous * The late A. J. Kempe, F.S.A. and for many years a contributor to the Gent. Mag. works of the Almighty architect of earth and heaven. In such moments, the mind acknowledges its own insufficiency to express its emotions; then is it found how much there is of eloquence in silence; the eye speaks, the tongue is mute. Come then expressive silence, muse His praise! Nor does our admiration cease here; for the Tamar winds its circuitous course through a country which nature and art have combined to render delightful, till it enlarges and spreads itself into the broad and deep waters of the Hamoaze; where, to use the poetical figure of Canning, are seen "sleeping on their shadows" those floating bulwarks of England's strength, her men of war, that have maintained her power and her glory throughout the wide empire of the seas. Beyond the Hamoaze appear the towns of Plymouth, Stonehouse, and Devonport. There, too, rising as it were from the midst of the waters, is seen the islandlike domain of Mount Edgcumbe. The horizon beyond is alone bounded by the ocean; that fearful and wondrous element, on which man feels at once, in the most opposite extremes, his weakness and his strength. He is as nothing in comparison with its power for his destruction; he is as a spark of the Almighty mind, when, by the force of his genius, he triumphs over its illimitable space; and by his courage and his enterprize makes, as it were, the remotest corners of the globe subservient to him, mingling with other nations, even as do the clouds and vapours of this far-stretched horizon with the waters of the Atlantic, till they seem to unite as one. Cotele is sequestered; but, although the ground on which it stands is considerably elevated above the river, it commands no view except that of some venerable trees by which it is in part surrounded, and a peep at Calstock church tower at no great distance. Passing through the quadrangle (or as it is called in the West of England the cortelage) the stranger enters a majestic hall whose carved oak ceiling, though on a smaller scale, somewhat resembles that of the ancient palace of Eltham in Kent. In the windows may still be seen some portions of stained glass, representing the arms and alliances of GENT. MAG. VOL. XL. the family, who, for so many generations, have been the lords of Cotele. On the walls hang various suits of armour of different eras; some that were in use before the introduction of fire-arms induced our ancestors gradually to lessen and finally to cast aside their iron casings of defence; others when about the time of Charles I. the morion or steel cap supplied the place of the bacinet, vizor, and helmet, and the matchlock usurped that of the more chivalrous lance. These relics of distant times still give an appropriate character to the lofty hall of Cotele; and the sylvan sports of its once hardy masters are called to mind by many a noble pair of antlers (thickly set with tines like thorns upon a branch) that hang above the coats of steel as if to show that those who in periods of danger never shrunk from the warlike accoutrements and hardihood of their fathers, in days of peace sought their pastime in what has so truly been called "an image of war," in the high excitement and toils of the chase. Whilst viewing the old hall, many a thought of past ages presented itself to my mind; and I could well imagine what an imposing spectacle it must have presented in those chivalrous days when the lords of Cotele there held high festival and feasted their brothers in honour and in arms, their tenantry, followers, and friends; or led forth to the dance the young and the beautiful, now long, long since numbered with the forgotten dead! A little circumstance also here arrested our attention. We observed a small quatrefoil peep-hole, pierced in the wall high above,-indeed not very much below the carved oak ceiling. We found that this aperture enabled any person standing in the closet (which was contiguous to one of the principal sleeping chambers) to look down into the hall, and both to see and hear what might there be going on without being himself seen. There could be no doubt that a peep-hole so conveniently placed, had been for the service of the lord and lady of the mansion in feudal times. Whilst we were examining the armour, &c. in the hall, and my brother making, as he did, a very striking drawing of the interior, the housekeeper (a most respectable person) 2 Z came in, accompanied by a little girl about six years old, whose name was Mary. She was her niece, and I be lieve an orphan. I shall never forget the child. I have always remembered her by the name of Mary of Cotele. She was very pretty; but her beauty did not so much arise from feature and complexion (though she looked fair and delicate) as it did from an indescribable expression of sweetness and intelligence. She had the gentlest voice too that could be imagined, and the prettiest and most apt way of expressing herself, far beyond her years; and there was an affectionate look in her blue eyes when she was kindly noticed, and a liveliness of manner that altogether made her a most engaging little creature. We were much interested about her, so that to this day Cotele is never remembered by us without some reference to her. There have been persons who have taken such a fancy to children as to be led to adopt them. Little Mary was exactly the being to inspire such a fancy. I confess I never before felt so strong a desire to steal a child in all my life. Her aunt seemed very fond of her, and Mary appeared to delight in being with her and in playing about the old hall, naming all the pieces of armour (which she did correctly), and in hiding herself behind the old tapestry, in an adjoining room, in sport. I know it will be digressing, but I cannot forbear stating that three years after the time of which I am now speaking, I once more saw Mary of Cotele. But it was a melancholy pleasure, for the poor child had but just recovered from a dangerous attack of scarlet fever. Being too weak to walk, her aunt carried her. She was pale, thin, and so wasted that her little arms, which hung listlessly down, were literally reduced to skin and bone. She had the appearance of one in a decline, yet there was the same indescribable expression of gentleness and sweetness, in her countenance. She knew me directly. I never saw an eye that spoke more than did hers in return to an affectionate greeting, though she was too weak to do more than utter a few words. On our first visit to Cotele, accompanied by the housekeeper and this engaging little creature, we went through the apartments. The child knew everything and the names of most of the people in the old pictures. She knew "the pretty lady, Mary Queen of Scots." Surely no pretty lady ever had so many portraits painted of her as the Queen of Scotland, for all the female heads tolerably good looking (with a cap of her day having the border brought down close to the forehead in front and rising with a curve on either side), are invariably ascribed to her. Having seen in my travels at home and abroad, in various ancient houses and collections, above twenty portraits so called, I was grown much too sceptical about the identity of most, if not all of them, to expect anything authentic from this at Cotele. But I may be mistaken, as it bore some resemblance to the effigy of Mary Queen of Scots on her tomb in Westminster Abbey. Yet, if this portrait be genuine, it depicts her at an earlier period of her life than she is represented in the effigy; in the last she is also stouter, more enbonpoint, and far less delicate in beauty; this, however, she would naturally be from her age alone at the time of her death. The features of the marble figure form a noble contour of countenance, particularly in profile; and, as well as the portrait, fully justify the many eulogiums of that Queen, of whom Robertson said, " man could see her without loving her." no This may be a little extravagant, yet there have been such women; but not all have used the power of their charms either discreetly or honestly. I have seen the portrait of Ninon de L'Enclos (who won hearts till she was seventy), and that of Diana of Poitiers, who captivated the youthful King Henry of France, when she attended at his court to celebrate the marriage of her granddaughter. These ladies assuredly possessed beauty of no common order; but in all the good portraits of them which exist it is apparent that it was not alone their personal charms that had thus the power to change the natural course of things. In each the chief attraction seemed to be in the expression of the countenance-an expression which evinced strong and superior sense, united to an affectionate disposition, the last being of all things perhaps the most powerful to keep alive, if not to inspire, a passionate attachment. In one of the sleeping-rooms of this ancient dwelling there is a scene represented in tapestry in which some dogs, the size of life, are introduced. These are so admirably executed that, when fresh in colour, they must have been little inferior to the most masterly efforts of the pencil; but every year now sadly fades and injures them. One chamber, likewise hung with tapestry, represents, if I remember correctly, some of the stories from the wars of Troy; and the tales of Hero and Leander, and Romulus and Remus. In this apartment are also placed a splendidly carved ebony cabinet, chairs, and a settle corresponding, of the reign of Charles the First; much of the furniture of the house being of that period. Here is likewise seen the chamber and bed in which that unhappy king slept for two or three nights during the anxious time of his sojourn in the West, after one of his most disastrous defeats. I looked at the old and once richly tapestried room with much interest, from my recollection of the noble conduct and zeal of the former masters of the mansion. All the Edgcumbes were true as steel in the cause of loyalty and honour. Many a council, in favour of the king, I will warrant, was here held in the stormy and latter part of his unfortunate reign; when the fierce Strouds of Newnham (and Stroud the republican was at that time, according to Clarendon, one of the most violent members of the rebel parliament,) were very differently employed, not many miles off, in lending a helping hand to his destruction. With what opposite feelings did I some time after see Newnham to those elicited by this visit to Cotele! So much do the principles and actions of men invest with an interest, to afford pleasure or to give pain, the scenes and dwellings where they have been called forth for good or evil. I can remember the time, when very young, that I could never endure to stop for a moment and look up, without the most painful feelings, at the window through which (as it was then generally though erroneously believed) King Charles had passed forth to his martyrdom on the scaffold at Whitehall. One In a lower chamber are still carefully preserved the chairs of state in which were seated that beloved and venerated Sovereign George the Third, and his truly exemplary Queen Charlotte, on the day they were entertained by Lord Mount Edgcumbe at Cotele. The apartment is hung with tapestry; and, passing through a door, under the arras, we entered by a narrow way the ancient chapel. This is a very small but interesting building, in which (not long since) might be seen some curious remains of stained glass. portion, representing St. Katharine and her wheel, was very rich and good. All the adornments of Romish worship have long since been removed from the altar; yet I could not enter this small and sacred edifice without calling up in imagination the impressive ceremonial of high mass, and the vesper hymn seemed also to chime on the ear, as the lord and lady of the mansion, and a goodly train of knights, with all the retinue of chivalry, appeared to pass before the mind, and as quickly to fade away. The hall, the chapel, and the apartments thus slightly noticed, are the most striking objects at Cotele. From the roof of a tower in the quadrangle may be seen the whole range of buildings, and a pleasing though somewhat confined view of the domain. Descending from this tower, and passing beneath its gateway, we proceeded to explore the deep intricacies of the woods, which are now, and have been for ages, famed for the beauty and grandeur of many of their trees. The inequalities of the ground on which they stand, its deep dells and abrupt declivities, afford that varied effect so peculiarly charming in forest scenery; bough crosses bough, tree rises above tree (with the river Tamar seen glittering through every little opening), sometimes forming a verdant arcade, at others shewing the entrance to many a labyrinth of nature's own construction, tempting one to explore their recesses. In several places we observed the light streaming through, where there was open space enough to admit it, in a full flood; and so strong and broad were the shadows opposed to it, that, by force of contrast, there seemed a brightness, an illumination, more than natural; it resembled the effect pro |