The journal of Elizabeth Lady Holland (1791-1811) Volume 1 (of 2)Holland, Elizabeth Vassall Fox, Lady
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The journal of Elizabeth Lady Holland (1791-1811) Volume 1 (of 2)
Holland, Elizabeth Vassall Fox, Lady
Holland, Elizabeth Vassall Fox, Lady, 1770-1845 -- Diaries
The next day, 22nd., we saw the once proud seat of the Percies.
Alnwick, on the outside, revives the recollection of all one has heard
of baronial splendour, battlements, towers, gateways, portcullis, etc.,
immense courts, thick walls, and everything demonstrative of savage,
solitary, brutal power and magnitude. The late Duchess _built_
the present fabric upon the site of the primitive castle, but much
is from traditional guess. The inside corresponds but feebly with
the outward promise; the whole is fitted up in a tinsel, gingerbread
taste, rather adapted to a theatrical representation than a permanent
decoration. It must be an unpleasant residence, as comfort, nay,
even common convenience is sacrificed to preserve the appearance of
a fortress. At some distance upon the coast is seen the crestfallen
towers of Warkworth, the usual residence of the Percies, and from
whence Hotspur issued to return no more in his rebellion against the
ungrateful monarch. It is in that castle Shakespeare lays his scene in
the 2nd part of _Henry IV._, where Northumberland receives the
tidings of Hotspur’s untimely end. One custom, probably descended from
the earliest days of the glory of their house, is preserved at Alnwick.
When the Duke is willing to receive the visits of the neighbouring
gentry, a flag is hung upon the highest turret as a signal that he may
be approached. How far the democratic spirit that so generally pervades
all ranks submits to this aristocratical summons I know not.
On that night we slept at Berwick; the Tweed is wide and handsome. Its
width is more properly derived from the waters of the sea than from its
own mass of tributary streams. From thence to Edinburgh the road lies
along an elevated coast; the view of the sea is very pleasing. The
colour was blue, unlike the green and yellow streaks that disfigure the
muddy channel. I was gratified at quitting ye uniform features, both
of towns, villages, and country, that fatigue the eye in England; one
enclosure is like another, and when you have seen a street lined with
red-brick, three-windowed houses, you have seen the extent of their
architecture and the summit of their taste.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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