s" of the place, Westbury-on-Trym
enjoys a curious monopoly of handsome private mansions. These
mansions--spacious, finely built, each standing in its own park-like
grounds--were built for the most part by wealthy Bristol merchants
during the two last centuries--men of wealth, who needed to reside
within an easy drive of the city, and who were content to amass great
fortunes without also desiring to become land-owners. The Bristol
merchants of the present day no longer care to live so near their
business. Railways and steamers enable them to go farther afield; and
so the fine old houses of Westbury, Henbury, Redland, Shirehampton,
Brislington, and other parishes round about the great commercial
centre, have gradually passed into the possession of a class of
moneyed gentry who, having neither trade nor land, are attracted by
the fine climate and beautiful scenery of this part of England. Some
few of these old mansions are renowned for the valuable collections of
paintings and other works of art which they contain; as, for instance,
at Blaise Castle, there is a fine series of specimens of the old
masters purchased at the close of the great war during the first
quarter of the present century by Mr. Harford, grandfather of the
present owner; a series which comprises a fine Guido, several
specimens of the Caracci, Salvator Rosa, etc. At Kings-Weston Park, we
find the family portraits of the de Cliffords purchased, together with
the very fine old house built by Vanbrugh in the time of Charles II.,
by the late owner, Philip Miles, Esq. At Leigh Court, the gallery,
with its famous Leonardo, is known throughout Europe, while many other
art treasures are to be found in the possession of private owners
round about the neighborhood.
It is not to be supposed that the writer and subject of this present
paper resides in semi-royal state in one of these magnificent old
houses. On the contrary, she lives, and has lived for more than a
quarter of a century, with a very dear friend, in a small, irregularly
built house, which together they have from time to time enlarged and
improved, according to their pleasure. That friend--now in her
eighty-seventh year--used, in days long gone by, to gather round her
table many of the wits and celebrities of fifty years ago; but for
her, as for myself, our little country home has been as dear for its
seclusion as for the charm of its neighborhood.
The Larches stands, with some few other houses of l
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