The Strife of the Roses and Days of the Tudors in the West

The station itself is somewhat "larger and more commodious" than common. A two-fold reason accounts for this, one, that of its being the junction of another line that departs hence for Salisbury, and secondly the nature of the industry that meets the eye from the platform, and is in its way unique in these parts. This is the appearance of three towering iron furnaces, with attendant rows of coke ovens, placed on an eminence just outside the station yard; busily smelting the iron-stone that is quarried from a large excavation on the opposite side of the line, and which passes under the railway proper in mimic trains, pulled by a tiny locomotive up to the great glowing bastions, there to be speedily devoured and purified into 'pigs' of the best quality.

A very English sight indeed you will say. Yes, certainly if we were in some of the northern localities of this mineral-saturated island of ours, but strange in its isolated appearance among the bucolic characteristics of the southern portion of it, and moreover here, at least, a development in its way peculiarly modern. The antient 'staple' of the district is the very primeval one of the manufacture of woolen cloth, which has existed for centuries, is still considerably followed, and enjoys all its olden reputation as being 'West of England,' a pass-word for excellence and purity of fabric, untainted by the admixture of 'shoddy,' characteristic of north-country production. Westbury in company with her sister towns is largely interested in the industry.

Our wandering to-day is not in quest of manufactured products iron or woolen, but of a nature that lends a clue to our thoughts which takes us back to the far past strife of the Red and White Roses, and era of Bosworth, and of the heart-burning that inspired the distich,

"The Rat, the Cat, and Lovell our Dog, Rule all England under the Hog,"

for the writing of which and presumed sympathy with the Red Rose, be it remembered, a Wiltshire knight, Sir William Collingbourn of Lydiard by name, was by the vindictive Richard "caused to be abbreviated shorter by the head, and to be divided into four quarters,"--and to search for traces of one of the principal actors, who played a conspicuous part in the turmoil, for he was probably born, or had his original habitation close by. Yonder is the town of Westbury with its factory chimneys and massive church tower in their midst,--below us the busy railway-station, and immense iron-stone quarry,--in front the great furnaces. Nothing very suggestive in all this as to our expedition to find the old home of Willoughby in these parts; he of the famed circle of the Garter, and first Baron by a name taken from the little rill of Brooke or Broke, that, outlasting his name and fame, still flows past the house that he occupied while in the flesh. Yet it cannot be very far off.

These are our thoughts as we look from the parapet of the bridge that carries the highway over the railroad below, our steps lead us northward, and although our local geography ends here, our usual luck for further guidance is at hand. An old stone-breaker by the wayside stays his hammer as we pass, to give us the morning's salutation, and to our respond we add the interrogatory as to our path to an old house or place called Brooke or Broke, somewhere near. "Brooke-_Hall_ you mean" said he, with special emphasis on the affix, "I know it well, follow on for nearly a mile until the road leads into the brook; then turn into the gate on your right, go through two meadows and you will see Brooke Hall before you. It is an old antient place, and I have heard was a grand one once, but it is only a farm-house now."

With due thanks to, and musing on the inextinguishable influence of tradition, thus continued and wove into the life of our humble but intelligent informant, we saunter along, until the rippling sound of water attracts us on our left. Mounting the low ledge that bounds our path on its other side, at our feet in the enclosure below (locally termed the Bisse) the Brooke or Broke sparkles along gaily as ever, and apparently as undiminished as when four centuries a-past, the knight, whose memories we are in search of, forded its flow. A little farther beyond, and the lane we have been traversing descends abruptly into its bed, which forms a continuance of the thoroughfare for a short distance. Our path diverges through the gate on the right, and into the green fields.

Here, at once, although much ameliorated to the wants of the modern farmer, the undulating nature of the ground, the richness of the turf, and scattered stately trees still lingering about to attest its olden beauty and importance, we recognize unerringly the well known characteristics of an antient park, but apparently not of large size. Traces of a winding road lead on from the lane gate, and stretch away over a swarded knoll, on the right; with pleasurable steps we reach the summit of the acclivity, and descry at about another field's space ahead, the still existing remains of the Brooke Hall of our trusty informant.

"A grand place once"--we ruminate, recalling the words of the old stone-breaker, as we halt under the shadow of a tall, massive gable, buttressed at the angles like a church, and with the original hip-knop a trefoil on a stalk, still very perfect, and bravely weathering the sunshine and breeze at its apex. From this gable stretches back a building ninety feet long with high-pitched roof, and forms one side of the farm-court. Its further end is joined to a cross-structure of smaller size, now used as the farm dwelling-house.

Cautiously we push open the large doors of the cow-court and look inside. This, from no dread of meeting, and having our intruding footsteps ordered off by the antient knight who once possessed it, but rather from the undesirableness of making too sudden acquaintanceship with the vigilant curly-tailed custodian of its precincts eyeing us from within, and who may not, until properly assured to the contrary, be quite satisfied with the object of our investigation; but a kindly word of advice to him, and of welcome to us, from his master close by, speedily puts everything at ease, and with full permission for inspection.

Before however we proceed to investigate the old place, we mentally join company with the famous old itinerant Leland, who came here on a similar errand, and recall the burthen of his description, when it was in pristine condition, and still in possession of the Willoughbys.

"There was of very aunciente tyme an olde maner place wher Brooke Hall is now, and parte of it yet appearithe, but the buyldynge that is there is of the erectynge of the Lorde Stewarde unto Kynge Henry the vii. The wyndowes be full of rudders. Peradventure it was his badge or token of the Amiraltye. There is a fayre Parke, but no great large thynge. In it be a great nombar of very fair and fyne greyned okes apt to sele howses.

"The broke that renithe by Brooke is properly caulyd Bisse, and risethe at a place namyd Bismouth, a two myles above Brooke village, an hamlet longynge to Westbyry paroche. Thens it cummithe onto Brooke village, and so a myle lower onto Brooke Haule, levinge it hard on the right ripe, and about a two miles lower it goith to Trougbridge, and then into Avon."

We enter the court yard, and the main portion remaining, which was probably erected by the Lord Steward, occupies the whole of the left side. It is a strong substantial building. The front toward the yard has three doorways having good late-pointed arches, and five two-light windows of small dimensions. Between the doorways are buttresses. At first sight, the building seems as if intended for a large hall, especially from the fine high-pitched roof, and its completeness inside, having all the old timbers remaining. But it appears to have been divided off, and formed into apartments, a considerable portion of the old wood partition-work still remains. It is now used as a stable, barn, and for other farm purposes. The upper end of this long building is joined to a cross portion, apparently the better part of the fabric, but not of large dimensions. This has been modernized to the requirements of a farm-house, and almost all its antient features obliterated. The walls are of great thickness, nearly six feet, and at the end are some later transomed Elizabethan windows, bricked up, and in a small outhouse below is "T.--1684;" a still later time-mark.

As far as could be observed, what at present remains, appears to be only a small portion of the original structure, but in which direction it extended is not certain. Aubrey, the Wiltshire antiquary, writing in 1650, and who visited Broke about that time, describes it as "a very great and stately old howse" with "a Hall which is great and open, with very olde windowes." There was a "canopie chamber," a dining room, parlour and chapel, and the windows were filled with coats shewing the armorial descent of Willoughby, which he minutely describes; and further, the windows "are most of them semée with Rudder of a Ship, or;"--and again he observes "the Rudder everywhere." We had greatly hoped to have enriched our sketch book with a similitude of one of those rudders, but alas, the most diligent search and enquiry was vain. Not a fragment of the old glazing remained, and neither arms, badge, nor device, was to be found anywhere on the building, sculptured or limned. A small enclosed garden (now used as a rick-plot), skirted with poplars, on the opposite side of the court, was the only other noticeable feature connected with the old place.

Thus much for Broke Hall, said we--retracing our steps over the grassy undulations--the antient residence successively of Paveley, Cheney, and Willoughby, all names of knightly renown; aforetime, as well as now, probably no more apt description could be given of the still sturdy old fabric, than the itinerant's terse note on this little park that surrounds it, it was and is "no great large thing," albeit the "grand one once" of the tradition-burthened mind of our friend the stone-breaker, and this true enough in its way perhaps also, when compared with the hovels of the peasantry that then had their stations near it.

The family of Paveley, the antient owners of Broke, held it as early as the reign of Henry I. Reginald de Paveley was Lord of Westbury, succeeded by Walter, and again by Walter Lord of Westbury, in 1255. To him Reginald, who deceased 1279, and Walter, Sheriff of Wilts 1297, died 1323, and succeeding him Reginald de Paveley, who died 1347; he married Alice, widow of John, the second Lord St. John of Lageham, died 1322. To him John de Paveley, who married Agnes, with issue two daughters, Joan married to Sir Ralph Cheney, and Alice wedded to Sir John St. Loe, died 1366. The Paveleys also held considerable possessions in Dorsetshire, and bore for their arms, Azure, a cross fleurie or.

Cheney, Cheyney, or Cheyne,--originally _De Caineto_--(or query, from the French du chêne, 'of the oak') was also an old and largely ramifying family, that first came over with the Conqueror, and were subsequently scattered throughout midland and southern England, from Kent to Cornwall, their name still surviving as an affix to their olden possessions in several localities.