The most interesting old house in the parish or neighbourhood is the one which forms the subject of our plate, and which stands close to the edge of the river Pant, or Blackwater, a small stream, seen in the back-view of the ancient mansion given in our initial letter; the triple gable here peeps above a rich group of old trees, and the carved barge-boards and richly clustered chimneys invite the traveller’s nearer view. Crossing the small bridge, he will find his expectations in no degree disappointed; the mansion exists in pristine purity, with all its richly carved decorations untouched by modern hands. From this point our view of the exterior is taken. The elegant pendants to each gable, the involuted foliage running along the beams and barge-board, the decorated spandrils, the antique bow-windows, and the beautiful porch, elaborately carved and covered with ivy, at once meet the view, and greatly excite curiosity as to whether the interior in any degree corresponds with so perfect a piece of antiquity. An entrance is no way difficult of [Illustration] accomplishment. Alas, for worldly grandeur! this mansion, upon which the art and expenditure of the sixteenth century was lavished, is now an ale-house; and not even one of a first-rate class--being only “licensed to sell beer.” Few but the poorest class of labourers sit in the parlour, which forms the subject of our plate, and its beauties are unappreciated. To which of the families of note in the olden time (and many resided here) this mansion belonged, cannot now be ascertained with any certainty; whether Ridley or Bonner (names which give rise to so many and such varied associations) once sat in these rooms is unrecorded, but the taste and expenditure here exhibited denote the superiority of the original occupant. It is seldom we see a more perfect and remarkable specimen of the in-door aspect of a gentleman’s house in the early part of the sixteenth century; all here is original, and all perfect; no plaster-work is any where visible, but walls, ceilings, and floor, are of oak; the massive beams of the roof boldly cut in a pattern of running leaves, the angles of the smaller ones tastefully chiselled and sculptured; figures of angels playing on the lute are upon the beams in the bay-windows, in which is preserved some of the original painted glass, “richly dight,” and exhibiting the crowned monogram of the Virgin, an eagle bearing a scroll, and the royal arms of England, with the initials E. R. on each side of them. The walls of the room are entirely covered with carving in a series of patterns, the lower ranges of which are of that species termed “the napkin pattern,” most delicately and beautifully chiselled, and untouched by the painter, as well as uninjured by time. The uppermost range of panels are cut in oval frames, from the centres of which peep forth, in high relief, a series of male and female heads, cut with a vigour and truth at once bold and