|  | Gentleman's Magazine 1849 part 2 p.140 for in Mr. Machel's time, who visited the hall about 1680,  
and was curious in such matters, the following arms,  
described by him, were then to be found as fenestral  
enrichments, some of which, Dr. Burn says, were remaining  
when he wrote the History of the County in 1777:-
 
  
"1. Philipson. Gules, a chevron between three boar's heads  
couped, ermineé, tusked or; impaling, Azure, a  
chevron between ten cinquefoils 4,2,1,2,1, argent, charged  
with three mullets gules, by the name of Carus. 
  
"2. Philipson, impaling Laburne, Azure, six lioncels rampant 
argent. 
  
"3. Barry of ten, or and sable, a canton of the second, by  
the name of Briggs. 
  
"4. Philipson, impaling Wyvill; Gules, three chevronels  
braced vair, on a chief or, a mullet pierced of five points  
sable. 
  
"5. Carus, impaling Wyvill. 
  
"6. Philipson, single; 
  
and both of these, say the authorities I have named, are  
also in plaster work over the hall chimney very complete,  
and over Philipson's is this mottoo, FIDE NON FRAUDE." 
All these intelligent memorials of other days are now gone,  
save thoses of the Briggs' and of Philipson impaling Wyvill, 
which, as has been poetically observed in relation to  
similar adornments elsewhere, "yet remain to attest by their 
presence that the former owner had made the very light  
subservient to his state, and pressed the sun itself into  
his list of flatterers, bidding it, when it shone into his  
chamber, reflect the badges of his ancient family, and take  
new hues and colours from their pride." In the same window, underneath the emblazonry, is this  
inscription, likewise on painted glass:
 
 ROBART . PHILIPSON
 AND . JENNET . LAIBOR
 NE . HIS . WIFE . HE DIE
 D . IN . ANNO . 1539 .
 SHE . ZZ . DECE
 MBAR . 1579.
 The room over the kitchen has been nobly ornamented after  
the fashion of the day by cunning artists, and it still  
retains, in its dilapidated oak-work and richly adorned  
ceiling, choice, though rude, remnants of its ancient  
splendour. It has a dark polished oak floor, and is  
wainscoted on three sides with the same tough wood; which,  
white and bleached with age, is elaborately carved in small  
and regular intersecting panels, inlaid with scroll work and 
tracery, and surmounted by an embattled cornice. In this  
wainscot two or three doors indicate the entrances to other  
rooms, whose approaches are walled up, the rooms themselves  
having been long since destroyed. The ceiling is flat, and  
formed into compartments by heavy intersecting moulded ribs, 
the intermediate spaces being covered with cumbrous  
ornamental work of the most grotesque figures and designs  
imaginable, amidst which flowers and fruits and other  
products of the earth, moulded in stucco, yet exist to tell  
how many times the fruitage and the leaves outside have come 
and gone, have ripened and decayed, whilst they endure  
unchanged.
 So late as 1789, when Clarke wrote his Survey of the Lakes,  
there was remaining over the fireplace, in what was then  
called the dining-room, two devices remarkably well carved  
in oak. One exhibited Samson asleep upon Delilah's lap,  
while the Philistines were cutting off his hair; the other  
was a representation of Jeptha, after his rash vow, meeting  
his daughter. In the room then designated the parlour, there 
were also upon the ceiling several devices moulded in  
stucco, in which the figure of the wyverne, the crest of the 
ancient family of Wyvill, was frequently repeated. And even  
down to so recent a period as 1820 the walls of one of the  
rooms were covered with various paintings in fresco or  
distemper, of the Virgin and other saints.
 But of all these perishing evidences that were so  
characteristic of the era of its youth and freshness, the  
only things indeed associated with the period of its former  
state which were left to tell of its interior decorations,  
how scanty are now the remains; most of what was existing  
within the last half century is gone, and the few abiding  
fragments, being liable to continued damage from the weather 
and want of care, are likely soon to vanish also.
 
 The fretted roof looks dark and cold
 And tatter'd all around,
 The carved work of ages old
 Dropp'd wither'd on the ground.
 The casement's antique tracery
 Was eaten by the dew,
 And the night-breeze whistling mournfully
 Crept keen and coldly through.
 
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