Here is a picturesque contrivance of Art to embellish Nature. We have seen many such labours, but none with more satisfaction than the Grotto at Ascot Place.

This estate is in the county of Surrey, five miles south-east from Windsor, on the side of Ascot Heath, near Winkfield. The residence was erected by Andrew Lindergreen, Esq.; at whose death it was sold to Daniel Agace, Esq., who has evinced considerable taste in the arrangement of the grounds. The house is of brick, with wings. On the adjoining lawn, a circular Corinthian temple produces a very pleasing effect. The gem of the estate is, however, the above Grotto, which is situate at the end of a canal running through the grounds. Upon this labour of leisure much expense and good taste have been bestowed. It consists of four rooms, but one only, for the refreshing pastime of tea drinking, appears to be completed. It is almost entirely covered with a white spar, intermixed with curious and unique specimens of polished pebbles and petrifactions. The ceiling is ornamented with pendants of the same material; and the whole, when under the influence of a strong sun, has an almost magical effect. These and other decorations of the same grounds were executed by a person named Turnbull, who was employed here for several years by Mr. Agace. Our View is copied from one of a series of engravings by Mr. Hakewill, the ingenious architect; these illustrations being supplementary to that gentleman’s quarto History of Windsor.

We request the reader to enjoy with us the delightful repose—the cool and calm retreat—of the Engraving. Be he never so indifferent a lover of Nature, he must admire its picturesque beauty; or be he never so enthusiastic, he must regard with pleasure the ingenuity of the artist. To an amateur, the pursuit of decorating grounds is one of the most interesting and intellectual amusements of retirement. We have worshipped from dewy morn till dusky eve in rustic temples and “cool grots,” and have sometimes aided in their construction. The roots, limbs, and trunks of trees, and straw or reeds, are all the materials required to build these hallowed and hallowing shrines. We call them hallowing, because they are either built, or directed to be built, in adoration of the beauties of Nature; who, in turn, mantles them with endless varieties of lichens and mosses. In the Rookery adjoining John Evelyn’s “Wotton” were many such temples dedicated to sylvan deities: one of them, to Pan, consists of a pediment supported by four rough trunks of trees, the walls being of moss and laths, and enclosed with tortuous limbs. Beneath the pediment is the following apposite line from Virgil:

Pan curat oves oviumque magistros. Pan, guardian of the sheep and shepherds too.

Yet the building is not merely ornamental, for the back serves as a cow-house!

Pope’s love of grotto-building has made it a poetical amusement. Who does not remember his grotto at Twickenham—

The EGERIAN GROT, Where, nobly pensive, ST. JOHN sat and thought; Where British sighs from dying Wyndham stole, And the bright flame was shot through Marchmont’s soul. Let such, such only, tread this sacred floor, Who dare to love their COUNTRY, and be poor.

—The Grotto, has, however, crumbled to the dilapidations of time, and the pious thefts of visiters; but, proud are we to reflect that the poetry of the great genius who dictated its erection—LIVES; and his fame is untarnished by the canting reproach of the critics of our time. True it is that the best, or ripest fruit, is always most pecked at.

FAIRY SONG

(For the Mirror.)

Slowly o’er the mountain’s brow Rosy light is dawning; See! the stars are fading now In the beam of morning. Yonder soft approaching ray Bids us, Fairies, haste away. Fairy guardians, watching o’er Flowers of tender blossom, Chilling damps descend no more, And the flow’ret’s bosom, Opening to th’ approaching day, Bids ye, Fairies, haste away. Hark! the lonely bird of night Stays its notes of sadness; Early birds, that hail the light, Soon shall wake to gladness. Philomel’s concluding lay Bids us follow night away. Ye that guard the infant’s rest, Or watch the maiden’s pillow;— Demons seek their home unblest ’Neath Ocean’s deepest billow: Harmless now the dreams that play O’er slumbering eyes, then haste away. Farewell lovely scenes, that here Wait the day god’s shining; We must follow Dian’s sphere O’er the hills declining. Brighter comes the beam of day— Haste ye, Fairies, haste away.

G.J.

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The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 17, No. 483, April 2, 1831

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Various The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction / Volume 17, No. 483, April 2, 1831

GROTTO AT ASCOT PLACE

FAIRY SONG

(For the Mirror.)

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