The Mysteries at the far end of the Uxbridge Treaty House

Anyone who has ever parked at the Crown and Treaty in Uxbridge has noticed the collection of oddities that is the far end of the Treaty House. Contrasting with the lovely main face of the existing building and the towering and artful chimney structures on its backside, the far end feels architecturally discordant, improvised and beat up. Things just don’t seem to make sense on that end of the building. And the closer you look, the stranger it gets…

Anyone who has ever parked at the Crown and Treaty in Uxbridge has noticed the collection of oddities that is the far end of the Treaty House. Contrasting with the lovely main face of the existing building and the towering and artful chimney structures on its backside, the far end feels architecturally discordant, improvised and beat up. Things just don’t seem to make sense on that end of the building. And the closer you look, the stranger it gets….

Part of my struggle with this end of the building is that its so difficult to unravel. Nearly 500 years of maintenance has left the mark of many obvious repairs, including a large section of concrete shoring on the end face of the building. There are multiple swathes of mismatched brick, and brickwork patterns that don’t match those of the other end of the building. There are bricked up windows, concreted windows, glaring repaired cracks and a jagged, abruptly-ended facade. There are windows clearly out of alignment with those on the rest of the building. It seems a mess. But why? How did it come to be this way? And most importantly to me: Which parts of this end of the building date back to the time of the 1645 treaty negotiations?

The Octagonal Turret

Protruding from the far end of the Treaty House is an octagonal “turret” structure. In my recent visit, I learned that this structure contains an iron spiral staircase that doesn’t quite make it all the way to the second floor (considering the ground level to be the first). At the top of these stairs, you cross into the main building at an intermediate landing, where you can then either jog to the right and ascend a few more stairs to reach the second floor, or proceed up a next, narrow set of stairs that carry you up to the rooms of the attic level.

In his excellent paper on the Treaty House (see my last article), the historian Dr. Richard Spence speculates that this “angle turret” (and its twin at the end of the long-demolished parallel wing) may have held the “good stairs” remarked upon in accounts of the 1645 treaty negotiations. This was not an important point in Dr. Spence’s paper, but I need to address it, as I have come to an important, different conclusion.

Reviewing the available historic imagery, it can be shown that this octagonal structure did not appear until likely a century after the majority of the original Treaty House was demolished in the 1750’s (of course, we are working all this out because there is no surviving imagery of the original house and grounds). For example, it is not present in the 1770’s “dilapidated” image of the Treaty House (see the left side of the graphic above). I believe this improvised structure was added no earlier than the middle 1800’s, perhaps at the same time a large building containing additional rooms was appended to the back side (the chimney wall) of the existing building.

The “Good Stairs”

Accounts of the 1645 treaty negotiations describe a large, well appointed main chamber in the center section of the house. This spacious chamber was on the second floor, and was remarked as having been accessed by “good stairs” at either end. In this context, “good” stairs meant they were roomy, comfortable and stylish.

This staircase could well have been remarked upon as an example of “good stairs”. It was was taken from a country house in Wrexham, Wales that was built in the 1600s. (photo credit: Wales Online)

Despite the extensive rework in this end of the building and that the probability that these “good stairs” have not existed for centuries, there are still important clues about them. In particular, the western end wall of the Treaty House contains two substantial, but oddly placed windows. Both are blocked off.

The lower of these two windows is among the largest windows in the building. If you examine the brickwork around it (see the photo below), you will see the same fine materials and nearly the same level of craftmanship as in the windows on the building’s primary face. Although this wall has endured many adjustments and repairs over the centuries, this window (and the brickwork patterns around it) testify that the wall itself is original.

But these two were not the only stairwell windows. Looking at the early 1800’s image of the “Crown Inn” (as it was known at that time), you will notice the current windows at this end of the building’s back wall do not appear in that historic drawing. Instead, the drawing shows yet another grand but oddly placed window, and a pair of smaller “sunlight” windows just under the eave of the roof above it.

During daylight, all of these windows would have provided illumination of the stairs. They also would have provided generous views of the grounds to those using the stairs to pass between floors. The next figure is my initial cut at a possible elegant stair arrangement that aligns with the placement of these windows. I’m not yet convinced this plan is correct, but its good enough for now. To help with visualization of the original house design, I have “photoshopped” the rear wall of the building to reflect how it would have looked at the time of the early 1800s image of the “Crown Inn”.

This image depicts one possible stair plan capable of providing access to all three floors of the Treaty House. The rectangular column outlined in red is depicted as it would have appeared if you had been able to see it behind the brick walls of this corner of the house. Note: in this image, the back wall of the house has been photoshopped to illustrate what it might have looked like originally.

I assert that the original stairwell survived until at least the early 1800’s (and was probably removed in the middle 1800s when the building was expanded). If you look closely at the early 1800’s drawing from the banks of the River Colne, you will see there are no appended structures on the chimney side of the building, and no sign of the octagonal stair turret later appended at its end. This would have left an internal staircase as the only way to reach the second floor.

The presence of the second, smaller unaligned window higher up on the end wall indicates some continuance of the stairway to reach the rooms Sir John Bennet added to the attic spaces in 1623.

There is also a small set of stairs just above the modern main entrance by which the attic spaces can also be reached from the second floor. This cramped stairway has the feel of a fire escape or staff access. The stairs themselves are clearly modern, but some version of them were likely either original, or installed when the attic spaces were built out in 1623.

This small service stairway provides access between the attic and the second floor. It lies behind the second floor window over the main entrance. Although these specific stairs seem relatively modern, an earlier version of them may have been original.

The Puzzle of How the Center Span Intersected the Surviving Wing

Speculated layout of the original Treaty House and property from the 1994 paper, “The Place, Uxbridge, and Its Owners Up To the [English] Civil War” (1994) by Dr. Richard Spence.

The next mystery is most significant I have wrestled with since we returned from Uxbridge. How did the structure of the center span of the original building intersect with the surviving wing? The image above appears in Dr. Spence’s excellent 1994 paper on the early history of the Treaty House. The building arrangement he has drawn assumes what I am calling a “full corner join” of the original center span with the surviving wing (which is shown hashed, on the left in his drawing above).

I started from this assumption as well, but ran into an important issue when I tried to model it. Lets start with the footprint of the existing building (next figure). To avoid confusion, ignore the “octagonal” structure projecting from the right end of this figure (as we discussed earlier, this structure was not part of the original building).

There are two critical considerations. First, judging by the age of the bricks, the brickwork patterns and the existence of original (albeit closed off) windows, the end wall (towards the right in the graphic above) appears to be original. Second, there are fairly clear structural oddities in face of that end of the surviving wing. This must have been where the original building connected, but how, exactly?

A dimensioned model of the “full corner join” (as appears in Dr. Spence’s drawing) between the surviving wing and the original center span is accomplished by carrying the surviving end wall along as the rear wall of the original center span (as illustrated in the next figure). The problem I just couldn’t get comfortable with is that this would have made the center span significantly thinner than the wings.

I double checked my measurements and geometries, and found no flaw in them. For awhile, I wondered if the end wall might have been moved or rebuilt. But this would have involved a great deal of effort and resulted in less interior space in the building. Also, moving this wall would have implied moving the staircase behind it as well. Taken together, these make the possibility that the wall had been moved very unlikely. Next, I considered whether the front face of the original center span might have intersected the existing building closer to the adjacent bay columns. However, this would have landed the wall squarely in the middle of an apparently original window. None of these possibilities seems reasonable, including the idea that the center span wasn’t built to at least the same roominess as the wings.

I was describing my exasperation to Mary about the strange mix of clues at this end of the building when the light finally came on… I remember grumbling about how the large patch of concrete shoring made an ugly scar on an otherwise lovely building when the analogy of a scar rang a bell in my mind. I may even have stopped speaking in mid-sentence.

A 2018 photograph of the western end wall of the Treaty House.

What if a scar was exactly what that concrete shoring was? Not a hasty patch job to stabilize a weakened wall (as I had assumed), but the point of amputation of some part of the original structure? Was it possible the center span and the wings were were originally joined in a more complex, partially overlapped intersection? I had to admit it would have made the overall structure stronger…

This figure highlights the structural discontinuities evident at the western end of the surviving Treaty House.

And there it was. In the figure above, you can see the vestiges of where the center section of the house connected to the surviving structure. Looking at it now, I believe this odd, slightly protruding section of wall was once the last structural “rib” of the original center span. Rather than remove it, the bricklayers left it in place and bricked in the span between the rib structure to fashion a new outer wall for this part of the remaining wing.

The figure above illustrates what the footprint of this “offset join” of these parts of the building would have looked like. In this model, the outside faces of the center span’s walls would have been 23.5 feet apart–1 foot more than in the wings. Finally, I had a join concept that aligned with both the evidence and basic architectural sense!

Subtle Buttresses in the Structure

Although unconventional, this plan could explain a number of things. Considering this odd protruding wall section as a “filled in” vestigial rib from the end of the now absent center span helped me see it differently. And in the bargain may have resolved another minor mystery.

If you look at it closely at pictures of this protruding section of the existing building, you notice it is wider at the first floor than at the second. It didn’t make sense to me that this had been the shape of the center span wall. I didn’t know what to make of the odd protruding shape in it–that seems to be original. If this were the normal thinning of the wall structure at the succesively higher floors, the outer wall would have been left flat, leaving a ledge on the inside where it could support the joists of the next floor. This would have left the the outside wall flat, matching the adjacent, attractive face of the surviving wing.

I now believe the wall of the center span was vertically flat, with the lower portion of this structural “rib” protruding from it at this location only.

Temple Church in Middle Temple, London. The “ribs” protruding beyond the walls of the church are “buttresses”, meant to keep outward pressure from the settling of a large spanning roof from pushing the tops of the walls apart.

We’ve all seen something like this before, albeit on a much larger scale–in the construction of most historic churches in England. To illustrate what I mean, the image above is of the home church of the Templar Knights in Middle Temple, London.

When a large spanning roof (one without posts to hold it up in the middle) settles, it pushes outwards on the tops of the walls, weakening them. Buttresses brace the wall from its outside to prevent this spreading from taking place. Buttresses are a important part of why these ancient buildings have lasted so long.

In the case of the Treaty House, the span is moderate, and the large chimney stacks along the outside of the building and the bay columns along its inner face would provide a fair amount of reinforcement to the walls. It may be that the builder wanted this small buttress as a bit of extra reinforcement where these walls intersected.

Modelling what the offset join would have looked like

In the next set of images, I have scaled the “dilapidated” image of the Treaty House in the 1770’s so that it lies as closely as possible within a bounding box made from a modern photograph taken from nearly the same point of observation.

Comparing these images side by side reveals several notable things:

  • First, at some point, the walls above the second floor of this wing were extended upwards by several feet. This taller wall face makes the roof seem smaller than it was originally. This extension of the upper walls likely took place during the early 1800s remodel.
  • The 1770’s image of the Treaty House shows no other visible chimney flues except those of the the primary chimney stacks. It is not clear how this end of the building would have been heated, but suggests that the spaces at the left end of this structure were large enough that the existing fireplaces along the back wall were deemed adequate when the rest of the building was taken down. In the modern image, two new chimneys are present the left end of the modern roof. These were likely added in the early 1800’s remodel, as they appear in images made soon after that remodel was completed.
  • Although the residual structure that lies beyond the left end is depicted to be different than what is present today, it includes the same first floor portion of where the original back wall intersected the surviving structure.
  • The roofline in the modern photograph appears to increasingly sag as you move to the left. Although I have observed some localized sagging here and there on the roof, this general apparent sloping is mostly due to the image not being level and a bit of linear perspective shrinkage when looking at parts of the structure that are further away from the observer.
  • The 1770’s image shows that the curved gable was originally present on both ends of the surviving wing. At some point, the curved gable was removed from the far end of the building (furthest from Oxford Road) and replaced with a simpler, non-curved top. This was probably done at some point to salvage materials needed to repair the Oxford Road-facing gable. This curved gable is executed in curved stone, which would have been difficult to replace if some of it had been damaged.

In the figure above, I have highlighted the likely shape of the original center span at the plane it intersected the surviving wing. There are a few things to notice about this cross-section. First, there is no attic level in the center span of the building–the second floor would have had a high, vaulted ceiling to form the great chamber there. You will also notice that the walls are significantly thicker on the first floor than on the second. This trend almost certainly continued underground, with the walls expanding even further at the foundation level (see the next figure). This was a common construction technique to spread the building’s weight over a larger area to keep the building from settling into the ground.

This excellent graphic of historic wall construction from the University of West England at Bristol shows a variety of solid wall constructions, including their foundation footings.

The next figure takes the modelling further, showing a roof plan and a projection of the center span away from and onto the surviving wing.

I am quite interested in any feedback from the community on this most recent work, and particularly any examples of relevant historical architecture from this period. I am considering using my next article to pose some specific questions for input from the community following this project. I am intrigued by the idea of seeing what a bit of historic architectural “crowdsourcing” might turn up regarding a set of points I could use some help with!

Most importantly, I am hoping that when the artist supporting this project (Rhonda, who many of you met while we were in Uxbridge recently) gets the real 3D computer model of the structure in place, we will be able to look more closely at how the plane of the center span’s roof might have reasonably intersected the end gable. I am hopeful that will finally explain the shape of the concrete “scar” on the end wall of the existing building.

Life is interesting. And recently, it got far more so. Its not uncommon to find an earnest discussion of how the problems we face should be solved. But I was offered something very few people ever are: an opportunity to put my thoughts on what my country needs to the test.

I had the honor of being asked if I would be willing to be the candidate of the Forward Party to run for a seat representing Colorado in the US House of Representatives.

The Unites States Congress in Washington, D.C.

Each time I have have travelled to the UK, I have been asked what to make of the chaos and extremism that has manifested in American politics. Its an understandable question (and one I have thought much about). I think there may be some comfort in my answer. You see, we Americans do make progress as a society. Within the short span of my own lifetime, we have gone from a racially segregated society (i.e. before the Civil Rights Act of 1964) to white Americans electing a black man for president–twice.*

The understandable consternation is that on the path of progress, our society seems to find its way by lurching left and right like a drunken sailor. We somehow need to discover the consequences of bad ideas (and policies) by crashing into them. Then, we recoil (newly educated and muttering), before veering off in another direction. In the long run it seems to work, but its not pretty.

So my answer to my overseas friends has been: think of American politics as a pendulum. Its average position over time is its reasonable center. But you just have to grit your teeth while we take various reasonable underlying intentions too far. It will eventually swing back. I expect the current bewildering political scene to resolve itself in about 5 years.

In the current, embarrassing lurch, both of our major political parties have been co-opted by the extremists in their ranks. In an attempt to appease the torch and pitchfork waving gangs within their ranks, both parties seem determined to put up presidential candidates that would have little chance against even a modestly solid opponent. Each party is counting on disgust with the other party’s candidate to motivate their moderates to hold their nose and vote for their own, “less bad” candidate. And that’s where a third party in America may just have its moment…

There are currently two notable political movements trying to organize the moderate middle of America: the Forward Party and No Labels. Unlike other issue-driven parties (like the Green Party), these two are founded on the same basic premise–that it’s time for the moderate middle of American society to find its political voice. I support them both.

Apparently, I had been noticed in online Forward Party discussions I have participated in. It turns out that someone I respect, (and had gotten to know) was part of the Colorado leadership of the party. He also knew that I live in District 4.

It was a shock when he contacted me with a bombshell of a question: would I consider running for the seat being vacated by Congressman Ken Buck representing Colorado’s 4th district?

This seat is actually in the national spotlight, as Ken Buck is retiring early. Although he planned to retire at the end of his term, it is believed he chose to do so early to disrupt the survival plans of an embarrassing (and extremist) current representative of Colorado who was on track to lose her current seat in this fall’s general election. To avoid this, she had recently switched districts to run for the seat Ken Buck was planning to vacate. But with his early retirement, there will now be a special election in June, placing her in an awkward situation. If I ever find myself in the same room as Ken Buck, I intend to offer to buy him one of Colorado’s excellent craft beers.

For my part, it was an honor to be asked. And it was an opportunity that will not come again. In the vetting meeting, I was introduced to a spectrum of the people who are among the leadership of the party, from both the state and national level. It was a very candid conversation, and one that left an admiring impression on me. These are good people. They are talented and dedicated hard workers who who care deeply about the country. They struck me as the very embodiment of the ethos of “country over party”, and they expected the same of me. They cared deeply about ending the extremist antics that dominate our politics and threaten both our country and the stability of the larger world. They wanted to ensure that I shared the values of the party, and that I believed in the primacy of the rule of law. So it was a very comfortable conversation–I could not be more aligned with the need for a party committed to the principles this country was founded on (even if we haven’t always lived up to them).

It would have been a long-shot candidacy, but I am not averse to fighting a good fight. But in the end, I couldn’t get past the fact that politics at that level is a bare-knuckle, dirty fighting brawl. In this sphere, your ideas will never see the light of day if you don’t have the resources (political connections, personal wealth and lawyers) to win the disinformation wars against special interests and political opponents variously threatened by the solutions you are advancing. And there are clearly those who would have a hard time getting their heads around some of the solutions I would have fought for…

For example, I feel our immigration problem is only complex because we have corrupted ourselves. America is a country of immigrants. It is one of our core strengths. We should open the gates wide to facilitate the legal and timely inflow of people who want to work, share our values, and are willing to live within our laws. We should also offer a requirements-driven path to eventual citizenship for those who want it. But there’s a sticky part: we need to start enforcing our existing laws–not by cracking down on illegal immigrants, but by prosecuting those Americans who exploit those migrants. Eliminate the demand for unlawful labor. If you’re going to win that one, you need to bring more than a knife, because that will be a political gunfight.

A boat of illegal migrants arriving at Dry Tortugas during our camping trip there in November 2022. I will never forget the sight of one of them drop to his knees and kiss the sand (after travelling over 100 miles of open water in a rickety boat) for a the chance to have what I was born to. Dry Tortugas is a remote spit of sand in the Gulf of Mexico that hosts a historic anti-piracy fort from the 1700’s.

So, I was assessed as an engaging, effective speaker and a natural advocate for the Forward Party’s values. The fact that I am not a career politician is an advantage. Having spent 15 years volunteering at the Denver Museum of Nature and Science established a clear background of service. My personal background in agriculture (born to a ranching family and raised in Wyoming), energy (a year in the oilfield as a wireline technician) and technology (I have 5 patents and was most recently a Product Owner for Cybersecurity and Enterprise Architecture at a satellite imaging company) would also have served me well.

In the end, I had gotten unanimous support to be nominated as the Forward Party candidate. They recognized I was a political novice, and were ready to line up resources to help me round out my knowledge of key issues, fundraise and create a plan for media engagement. But a thought I had posed in the vetting meeting rang in my ears for the weekend I had to think about it: “If I could cure cancer it would be one thing–I’m not afraid of a fight. But I have to think hard about putting my family through a wood chipper if I don’t have the resources to accomplish something worthwhile.” We have to make choices in this life, and ego alone is a poor reason to derail the meaningful life Mary and I have built together.

So, with clarity and some mixed emotions, I ultimately chose to thank them for the honor of their consideration and to decline the offer. Although I think there will always be some part of me that will wonder, “What if…”, I believe my path is to serve in other ways. Nothing would make me happier than to help the candidate they ultimately find carry their message to the voters and win that seat in congress.


* Unsurprisingly, more than 90% of black voters voted for Obama in the 2008 elections. Far less known is that it was the white vote that put him in office–there were more than 2 white votes cast for Obama for every black vote he received.

Gunter’s Chains and Satellite Imagery: An Analysis of the 1775 Survey Plan at Uxbridge

A unique 1775 survey plan from the Uxbridge Archives is analyzed using modern tools and satellite imagery, resulting in some surprising insights into the spatial accuracy of this early engineering document.

Although I have been able to do a great deal of research from America, some portion of existing historical material simply isn’t available online. In the end, there is no substitute for time spent a fluorescent-lit archive amid a sea of box-laden shelves–or comparing notes with members of the local historical community.

I was reminded of this truth while we were in Uxbridge recently. A member of the Uxbridge History Society shared a hand-drawn copy of a 1775 plan drawing from the Uxbridge Archives, and his own rare copy of a paper about the Treaty House by an accomplished modern historian. These two local documents provided a small trove of information that filled in a gaps in what I’ve been able to find–and one that disproved part of the model I’ve been developing of the original Treaty House structure. So, with thanks to Tony for sharing this information, I’ve been back at work on the Uxbridge Treaty House part of the Lane Project!

Analysis of the 1775 Survey Plan

Digging through materials related to the 1775 plan drawing at the Uxbridge Archives, I found that this document was a survey plan for the proposed straightening of the Oxford Road. This project, when completed, would irrevocably break up what remained of the original, proud property of “The Place”, two decades after the majority of the main house had been taken down.

The 1775 survey plan document in Uxbridge is actually a photostat of a negative of the original document, which is likely located at the main London Archives. This plan was produced as part of an engineering survey of the site for the planned road project.

This is an extraordinary artifact, as it is not a sketch or artist’s impression of the scene. Rather, it is an engineering drawing that includes a surveyor’s scale, and was thus intended to be as accurate as it could reasonably have been made. The graphic below was taken directly from the document at the Uxbridge Archives. The information it contains is singular. Most diagrams I’ve been able to find of this area do not contain this level of detail, and are from after the new road was already in place.

This diagram was taken directly from a photograph of the 1775 survey plan from the Uxbridge Archives.

There are several unique insights contained within this image. For instance, although I had read about an older “pack and prime” bridge that had been built in two segments over the Colne, I’d never seen an illustration of it. In the figure above, it is denoted as the “old” bridge. It also shows the footprints of the “Swan” alehouse and that of the remaining wing of the Treaty House (both of which still exist today).

Despite the fact that the scene depicted is of the grounds decades after the main house had been taken down (and the property was already being sold off in parcels), many vestiges of the original grounds are still evident. For instance, the image clearly depicts the twin octagonal gatehouse (“lodges”) that flanked the original entrance to the property. Especially useful to me is the shape of the “old” Oxford Road as it arcs around the property. Before this document, I haven’t seen anything definitive about the shape of the original property. The wealth of other details (walls, fences, cultivated fields, ditches and buildings) provide a unique and satisfying view of “the neighborhood” around the Treaty House property at that time.

There are several odd things about this image also. The Frays Stream (at right) is not a straight channel (as it is depicted), nor does it intersect the bridge and the town mill at the angle shown. Also, the gatehouses are placed at an odd geometry relative to the remaining Treaty House wing. as though the person drawing it didn’t realize that those structures were related. Prudent architectural sense would have placed the gatehouses parallel to, and centered upon, the original center span of the house. To get a better feel for what can be trusted in this image, I decided it was time to do some analysis!

What is a Gunter’s Chain?

A Gunter’s Chain. Image credit: Victorian Collection

The text in the image refers to a “Gunter’s Chain” and provides a scale of 10 of these rulings in a line. A Gunter’s Chain was named after the English Clergyman and mathematician who introduced it in 1620, Edmund Gunter. It is a durable set of 100 links in a chain that is a total of 66 feet long, and is used exactly as we use a tape measure today–but for surveying.

Having a surveyor’s scale in the image was simply too much for my inner nerd to pass up! First, leveraging the provided scale, I created a 2D “Gunter’s Chain” grid, which I laid over the survey image (see image above). Since each square in this grid represents 66 square feet, this grid can be used to make measurements on the image. Overlaying the 1775 survey drawing over modern satellite imagery of the same scene and using online distance measuring tools, I can use enduring elements in the scene to assess the accuracy of the original drawing.

First, I had to confirm that the accuracy of the online distance measurement tools themselves. If the measurement errors were larger than what I am trying to determine, then there is little point in going any further! Using the “measure distance” feature of Google Earth and repeating a specific measurement of a significant distance (approximately 1,000 feet apart in the image) achieved results with a “standard deviation” of about 1.2 feet. This is good, as this amount of error includes any intrinsic error in Google’s measurement tool and also my ability to reliably choose the exact same spots to measure each time. Next, I measured the roof peak of the Treaty house multiple times, and consistently got measurements of +/-6 inches compared with measurements of the building I made while recently in Uxbridge. Bottom line? These tools are more than accurate enough for this job!

Satellite imagery of the area around the Crown and Treaty, overlaid with the 1775 survey image. It was rotated to align the road in front of the Treaty House, and then scaled until the interior bridgeheads matched.

I did not expect the survey map to be perfect. After all, it provides an overhead perspective drawn using only ground observations using 1600s technology. But I was pleasantly surprised how well the survey image laid onto key parts of this scene. In particular, the spatial relationship between the new roadbed and the bridgeheads at either end of it was nearly perfect. Also, the surveyed distance from one bridgehead to the other was 11 “chains” (726 feet). This matched satellite measurements (705 feet) of the same distance fairly well (given that I did not have clear visual targets for making this measurement).

But there were also some unexpected misalignments (see the analysis graphic above). The depicted footprints of the Treaty House and the Swan are both misplaced by at least 20 feet (in different directions), and both are somewhat rotated from their true orientations. Also, the twin gatehouses are depicted significantly closer to the new road bed than the “52 yards” the roadbed was (separately) recorded to have been moved.

The explanation for the variation in accuracy is that certain parts of the scene were carefully surveyed, while others seem to have been drawn in for completeness. If you look closely at the plan, you will notice a grouping of 5 points called out near the Colne bridgehead (labelled A, B, C, D and E). These are specific survey points that surround the planned roadbed where it approaches the new bridgehead. In fact, the text on the plan calls out how much fill dirt would be needed to fill in this part of the road. It also makes sense that the width of the island was more accurately measured, as the length of this section of new road would have been a key metric for the project.

But those areas which lay outside the new roadbed were not directly relevant to building the new road. These details were made for completeness of the scene, and it appears were less accurately captured by the engineer that created this plan. The next graphic of the scene summarizes which regions of this diagram I was able to validate as accurate, and others that are either suspect, or were revealed to be inaccurate.

Dr. Richard Spence’s Article on “The Place”

The second important artifact I obtained in Uxbridge was a paper published in the Autumn 1994 edition of The Uxbridge Record (by the Uxbridge History Society). This is an excellent paper about the early history of “The Place” (as the Treaty House property was originally known) and those who built and later owned it.

I was surprised to learn that the author, Dr. Spence, was not a local resident–he was from Leeds, far to the north. Like myself, Dr. Spence’s attention seems to have been drawn to Uxbridge by a thread of his primary research focus. After losing his role as a Senior Lecturer at Leeds and Carnegie College during a educational consolidation at age 54, Dr. Spence retired early and threw himself into the topic of his original PhD thesis: the history of the Clifford family (Earls of Cumberland). He authored several books regarding the Cliffords and several places related to the family.

The thread that seems to have brought Dr. Spence to the Treaty House was the granddaughter of Dr John Hughes, who originally built “The Place” in ca 1535. In her adulthood, this daughter (Grissell) married a man named Francis Clifford. The newly married couple first lived at “The Place” while Francis was constructing a bold new home amidst the rest of the Clifford family in Londonborough. Some years later, Francis succeeded his brother and became the next Earl of Cumberland. Lady Grissell (daughter of Uxbridge and raised at “The Place”) was now a countess.

Apparently pursuing this marital link between the Cliffords and Uxbridge, Dr. Spence became interested in the Treaty House and wrote his excellent paper on it in 1994. This paper was a privilege to read. I would have loved to have met Dr. Spence, but he died in 1999–5 years after making this unique contribution to Uxbridge history. The Guardian news site has a wonderful online obituary that describes him (Richard Turfitt Spence) as a warm, gentle and witty historian and an avid club cricketer. I was able to find 6 books he published, most available on Amazon. Unfortunately, I was unable to find a photograph of him, or I would have included it. So, with a salute for excellent, singular work and the significant help it has provided me–many thanks, Dr. Spence, and rest well.

For my work, there were several worthwhile discoveries in the Spence paper. First, while Lady Grissell and her husband Frances Clifford were living at The Place, arrangements were made to receive a visit there by Queen Elizabeth I (and her retinue) in October 1592. His description of the effort undertaken was fascinating, although Dr. Spence tells it is not clear the visit actually happened. Recall that this royal visit would have taken place only a few years after the Elizabeth I had so capably led the defense of England from the invading armada of King Phillip II of Spain in 1588. For Americans who aren’t familiar with this, watch the academy award-winning movie, Elizabeth: The Golden Age (2007)–it was Elizabeth I’s “Churchill” moment. She was at the height of her power, and her reign was an era of prosperity and relative stability compared with the chaos and religious whip-sawing of the country by King Henry VIII and his immediate successors. I suspect if this royal visit had actually taken place, it would have been an important local event that would have become part of the fabric of the property. The additional notoriety might even have saved the estate from its ultimate fate…

A few years after Francis Clifford and Lady Grissell had moved to their new mansion at the Clifford family seat in Londonborough, the Uxbridge property was sold to Sir John Bennett in 1613. Apparently, the new Earl Francis Clifford had inherited significant debt along with his new title, and the sale of “The Place” was necessary to help resolve them.

Sir John Bennett was already a significant landholder in the area who desired a convenient and enviable estate commensurate with his status. Sir John undertook the first great renovation and improvement of the property in 1623. As part of this costly expansion, the attic areas of both wings were built out to provide additional accommodations for his 10 children, 40 grandchildren, servants and guests.

Dr. Spence tells that the original chimney structures contained a single flue in each turret. But as hearths were added to heat the new rooms in the attic spaces, additional flues for them were carefully fitted into the center turrets of the chimney structures. Additionally, Dr. Spence notes there may have been a revamping of an original “great hall” in the center span of the building. This update (which likely also included the fitting of the famous carved paneling) would have created the elegant spaces utilized during the treaty negotiations in 1645. With the completion of this work, the significantly upgraded property took on a new name, becoming known long after Sir John’s death as the “Bennett House”.

There was one important detail in the paper I need to disagree with. Dr. Spence about. He speculates that the “good stairs” described to be at both ends of the center span’s main chamber were contained in angle turrets (as exists at the far end of the building today). However, that octagonal structure is not present in depictions of the building from the post demolition period of the latter 1700s. Although quite functional (having used them), it’s difficult to imagine anyone remarking upon them as “good stairs”. But most telling is the presence of filled-in windows in the end wall of the building which are unaligned with floors. These windows are clear evidence that an elegant stairwell was originally located within the end of the existing wing.

Reviewing the brickwork that connects the octagonal structure to the far end of the building (and various images of the building over time), my own suspicion is that it was added sometime during the middle 1800s when the Treaty House (and the large building appended to its backside) served as an Inn.

Finally, I was amused to read Dr. Spence’s mention of a “hearth tax” of 20 hearths on the property in 1674. This caused me to smile because the three chimney structures of the existing wing alone contain 12 flues. If the opposite wing was symmetrical, there would have been 24 flues before even considering those needed to heat the large center section of the building! My current model estimates there were an additional 2 flues at each end of the center span of the house and at least 2 full sets of chimney stacks along its back wall. This would have resulted in a total of around 34 hearths in the house at the time this tax was assessed. Apparently, tax dodging is a very old game indeed!

Layout of the Original Treaty House

A sketch from DR. Spence’s paper showing how he believed the original Treaty House was laid out.

Dr Spence’s paper includes a sketch of what the original structure might have looked like. Apparently, Dr Spence shared my suspicion that the spatial relationship of the remaining wing and the gatehouses depicted in the 1775 survey plan was not fully accurate. As Dr. Spence has illustrated, it is far more likely the twin gatehouses would have been centered on the house and arranged parallel to the face of the center span.

In my next article, I will share the the resolution of some nagging incongruities with the simple layout depicted above. There is more to know about how the wings actually attached to the center span. The clues lie in the tortured walls at the far end of the remaining structure…

For the last few years, Mary and I have been discussing the possibility of an extended visit to the UK that would allow me to do some much needed in-person research for this project. With the wind-down of the pandemic and the passing of a much loved, furry member of our family last year, we have decided it’s time.

We are both excited and nervous, of course. Its already hard to think about being away from our friends and family for an extended period, but this is something we don’t want to look back on later and regret not doing when we could still do it well. Having made new friends in Uxbridge, we are very grateful we will have a community to make our own for awhile. It will be wonderful to do simple things like making meals together!

Of course, we plan on making the most of the opportunity for adventure, and are bringing our road bikes and hiking poles. We are looking forward to exploring a great deal of England, Scotland and Ireland (and our most yearned-for places in Europe) in our down time!

For now, we still have quite a few arrangements to make, including finding a fill-in drummer for my band. Regarding my research, I am filling out my list of topics I haven’t been able to run to ground from America. I will also have to decide which books I will really need to have with me. But by this fall, I hope to be putting in some quality time in the archives of London, Oxford, Northampton and Somerset. And making time to meet with some acquaintances we’d enjoy seeing again–especially without having to rush the visit this time!

The Other Jewels of Uxbridge

Our fondest takeaway was some of the people we met while we were in Uxbridge. More than once I had the disorienting experience of spending time in the easy company of folks who felt like old friends–though we’d only just met.

We landed back home yesterday from our trip to Uxbridge, which lies on the western outskirts of London. We are grateful that everything came out so well–much better than we might have expected. The talks and the unveiling were well attended, and we found some important new historical resources available only at the local archives.

But our fondest takeaway was some of the people we met while we were in Uxbridge. More than once I had the disorienting experience of spending time in the easy company of folks who felt like old friends–though we’d only just met. And more than once, I found myself very much admiring their own splendid works. To be so welcomed and engaged by such quality people was a joy. It made our trip truly wonderful.

At Our Lady of Lourdes and St. Michael

The day after we landed, we attended Sunday Mass at Our Lady of Lourdes and St. Michael Catholic Church. The parish priest, Fr. Nick Schofield, would be our host for the first talk, scheduled for the following evening in the church hall. Mary and I agreed the feel of this church was “quietly vibrant”. The congregation was of all ages, including lots of young children. Fr. Nick’s sermon was about bereavement and a perspective on living your life “while it’s fizzy”. It was brilliant! He also pointed something out I’ve never been able to put my finger on. He said part of what is so hard about losing someone you are close to is that you also lose who you were to them

The church has a book near the altar where people can write the names of their lost loved ones. During the service Fr. Nick also read aloud names folks had given him for that same purpose. We later learned that Angela, his assistant (and author of some of his best lines) is also a bereavement counselor, so this healing focus is no accident. My overall impression was that Fr. Nick and Angela have made this church a genuine haven of faith, kindness, strength, solace and wisdom for the people it serves. I really don’t know how you could do better than that.

A group of us had a great time walking up to the Crown and Treaty for lunch. From the left: me, Nick, Mary, Angela, Bill, Maria and Gabriella.

After a tour of the church, and being introduced to a number of parishioners, a group of us went for a chatty walk up to the Crown and Treaty for lunch (and another look around). I think my favorite part of it was hearing how Fr. Nick conducted the special catholic service at the Shrine of King Edward “the Confessor” (which lies at the very heart of Westminster Abbey). This was a request made by King (now Saint) Edward that has been honored since his time. Recall that Westminster Abbey was taken over by King Henry VIII when the Church of England was formed specifically to break away from the control of Rome, so this inclusion of catholicism is a tradition not everyone is happy about.

At St. Margaret’s Church

St. Margaret’s is an Anglican church, and one of the oldest buildings in Uxbridge. Some form of it has stood at its location on the edge of High Street since the 1000’s. It is a beautiful old church that has been built up over the centuries. Vicar Andrew is good friends with Nick and Angela, and attended the first talk on Monday. At that talk, he offered to host us for a tour of St. Margaret’s and lunch on Friday–of course we said yes!

Along with Nick and Angela, Vicar Andrew is one of my new favorite people. With a graciously warm style, he is a pleasure to talk with. While at lunch our table was raucous with laughter and back and forth chatting. Like Nick and Angela, Andrew is a man of considerable depth. He has spent a lot of time in the middle east, and served in a special role as liaison with the leaders of other faiths, including shia Ayatollahs. I trust so little of the information we get through today’s media. This made it a high voltage experience to hear the perspectives of someone who has first hand experience respectfully interacting with sometimes prickly members of these other faiths and cultures.

Like Nick and Angela, Vicar Andrew is truly his brother’s keeper. While we were having tea and biscuits in the church, I asked about people I noticed coming in, and found out the church supports a minor food bank for folks who might otherwise not be able to eat. Nothing out of the ordinary for them–just another thread in the fabric they have woven in Uxbridge. In a world overrun with influencers and the selfishly inclined, this kind of softly spoken leadership and moral service to the community was humbling and inspiring.

At the Hillingdon Archives

Another individual we were fortunate to meet was Paul Davidson, a collections officer at the Hillingdon Archives. On Monday night, we learned of an important historic document that was a particularly relevant source of information regarding the grounds and layout of the original treaty house. Unfortunately, by the time we were able to get to the archives, we would normally not have been able to see it (the archives are only open by appointment on Wednesdays and every other Saturday). Although a busy fellow, Paul took time to come down and talk to us for a few minutes about what we needed. Seeing that this information would affect my upcoming talk, Paul squeezed us in later that day.

Mary broke away early from our meeting with Roddy to make the appointment at the archives. By the time I was able to join them, she was steadily working her way through photographing several boxes of artifacts related to the Treaty House. It will take some time to work our way through it all now that we are home again!

Best of all, the key document we were hoping for was there–a photo negative of a plan map of the roads and principal buildings between the Rivers Colne and the Frays from 1775. Although the original house had been demolished several decades before this document was made, it was entirely credible, and had been made within living memory of the original house. It was exactly the source I had been so far unable to find. I look forward to analyzing it, including overlaying it onto satellite imagery to refine my graphics of the grounds, and to update the orientation of the Treaty House itself.

While we were there, Paul showed us a couple of special treasures of the archives, including a fascinating large bound book of source materials for the “Redford and Riches” history of Uxbridge. It was an archive unto itself, filled with source materials. I have a copy of the published result in my own library. Paul also showed us the license for the market in downtown Uxbridge. I believe he indicated it was at least 900 years old…

It seems we needed to come to Uxbridge to find this critical information. My deepest thanks, Paul, for the grace to help us avoid leaving without it.

At the Crown and Treaty

The day we landed felt like a day from the Twilight Zone–but in a good way. After we dropped the artworks off with the folks at Croxley Galleries (who did a splendid job with the framing, btw), we stopped by the Crown and Treaty to finally meet Sam, the General Manager there.

You have to understand, I have studied this building and its history for 5 years without ever being inside it. Walking in for the first time, I felt like I was going to overload from absorbing details about the place. My attention was flashing all over, trying to look through the building’s present state to find those enduring artifacts of its original form. And just as the dizzy was fading, Sam walked up and introduced himself.

Sam and I don’t go way back–only to June of this year. Starting with a email exchange, we realized we had a shared interest in making the early history of the Treaty House more tangible to its modern visitors. We decided to see if we could make it happen. And now, 5 months later, we found ourselves facing one another for the first time. It was novel seeing him in the flesh, but it took only a few moments to acclimate to the familiar Sam I’d been working with for months. And we began working together as fluidly as we had been online. In the end, we got it all done.

Sam and his staff were wonderful hosts to us. We were given license to measure, photograph, poke and prod as needed to understand the details of the building. Access was even arranged to see important aspects of the non-public areas of the building including a peek into the attic for a look at the roof structure. We got to know the staff, and were always greeted with a smile and a warm “hello”. Being greeted with such hospitality really made it worth all the effort and expense that went into this project–for us, and also for the artist, Rhonda, who travelled to the UK to be part of the event as well.

I always assumed we would need to make an update to the piece we’d developed. And we do. Perhaps when that work is done, we may travel back to the UK for a chance to see this public window into the Treaty House’s proud history finalized. It would be a great excuse to see Sam and our other new friends in Uxbridge again.

My first meeting with a relative of Sir Richard Lane

Roddy Lane and I have been in intermittent contact for a long time. Roddy has inherited a significant geneology study of the various Lane families of England from his father. It is quite an accomplishment, and is quite well organized.

I was delighted to learn that Roddy would be able to come to Uxbridge to meet with me. I was even more grateful when I learned he was making a 2-1/2 hour journey to do so!

This is Roddy Lane, from Kent. He is a descendant of the family of Sir Richard Lane.

Once I get through the Treaty House project and return to my primary research on Sir Richard Lane, I intend to start by focusing on comprehending the work Roddy and his father have done. I would very much like better understand the relatives and close family friends of the Lanes to see if I can locate any other surviving artifacts of his life.

Roddy is a delightful person, and someone I felt a lot in common with (including skiing in Colorado). I regret that we didn’t have more time to talk, as I enjoyed his company immensely.

The Battle of Britain Bunker

Remembrance Day brings me to one last “jewel” of Uxbridge. This one is not about anyone we met, but rather about people I have always admired: Winston Churchill, the architects of the “island nation’s” defense, the soldiers and airmen who fought the battles, and the heroic grit of the ordinary people who persevered through them. Together, they “fought like Ukrainians” when Hitler attempted the subjugation of England, and smashed his vaunted Luftwaffe against the wall of English ingenuity and resolve.

Certainly, I knew of this control center, but I didn’t realize it was in Uxbridge. It was fascinating to see it for myself, and to learn more about the famous “Dowding System” used for coordinating the air defenses. There was a moment when every squadron that was airworthy was engaged in repelling an especially large attack. Truly heroic. Later, when we stopped to talk with a gentleman handing out remembrance poppy pins for donations, we gladly handed over a note for two of them.

The next articles will be about the talks themselves, and the study of the new material we have.

When her kids were young, Mary lived in Haselmere, in Surrey. The special friendship which developed with these neighbors over 30 years ago still thrives today. I first met them when we were in the UK in 2018. We drove down to see them again this past week.

Our friends in Haselmere. From the left: me, William (who served in a combined unit with the American 82nd Airborne), Mary, Carole and Sandie. Peter was away, unfortunately.

The sensation I experienced among our new friends in Uxbridge was repeated here–in the easy, genuine company of people we are blessed to have as our friends.

Announcing–November Speaking Events in England: The Jewel of Uxbridge

Especially to my friends in the UK, if you will be in London on Monday November 6, or on Saturday, November 11, I would love to see you at one of these talks in Uxbridge! I will be giving two talks, and unveiling an artwork based on my research that will hang in the main area of this beautiful historic (class II* listed site) pub, restaurant and venue in Uxbridge!

Especially to my friends in the UK, if you will be in London on Monday November 6, or on Saturday, November 11 (details below), I would love to see you at one of these talks in Uxbridge! Much of my time in the several years since our last trip to the UK has been spent working on the subject of my last few posts–a lovely class II* listed site in Uxbridge now known as the “Crown and Treaty”.

The unique and artful chimneys across the back wall of the Crown and Treaty are one of its most remarkable features
This view shows the remarkable chimney “turrets” that are one of the building’s most famous architectural features.

As has happened several times, I stumbled into a mystery about this building while researching a thread about Sir Richard Lane. Built in 1576, this remarkable house was originally far grander than even the surviving building would suggest. Despite being an important historic site after the 1645 Peace Treaty Negotiations were held there (during the English Civil War), the original property fell into disrepair and was largely torn down to make way for an important London canal project in the 1750s.

This is an overhead view of my "reconstruction model" of the Original Treaty house.  The right wing is all that remains today.
This is an overhead view of my “reconstruction model” of the Original Treaty house. The right wing is all that remains today.

Sadly, there are no surviving images of the original building and grounds. But while doing my other research, I came to realize there are a myriad of scattered clues about the original house: historical records and articles, accounts of the negotiations and the earliest depictions of the remaining structure made only a few decades after the rest of the house was demolished.

This is one of the most famous and earliest (ca 1810) images of the surviving wing and the striking hexagonal gatehouse,
This historic watercolor is among the earliest depictions of the Treaty House (ca 1810) in the years following its first major renovation. In the foreground is the striking hexagonal gatehouse that was part of the original property.

Most tantalizing was that the vague reality those clues hinted at–the size of the building required to host the negotiations, and also how unique and grand this original property really was! So, I undertook an effort to build a virtual reconstruction of the original property. In the end, it came together!

This scene is in the main seating area on the main floor. The “reconstruction” artwork will hang to the right of this fireplace.

So, with the help of an artist friend of mine, we will be unveiling a large picture of the Original Treaty House, framed with its story from my research. This large artwork will hang in the main floor next to a fireplace built while Queen Elizabeth I was in the middle of her reign. Having recently undergone a dramatic renovation by its most recent owners (the Old Spot Pub company), this site is now a beautifully done historic pub , restaurant, music spot and wedding/event venue. Truly an honor.

There are two talks: Both open to the public–please join us if you can!


The Jewel of Uxbridge: Unravelling the Lost Origins of the Crown and Treaty

— This talk will be oriented for the Uxbridge History Society, and so will focus a bit more on my research. It will include the first public view of a drawing of the Original Treaty house.

  • Monday, November 6, 2023 at 7pm
  • Church Hall of Our Lady of Lourdes and St Michael
  • Osborn Rd, Uxbridge UB8 1UE Uxbridge, UK (entrance to the hall is on the dual carriageway)

The Jewel of Uxbridge: Unveiling the Lost Origins of the Crown and Treaty

— This talk will be held upstairs in the room with the famous historic paneling and will be oriented more for the general public. It will include an unveiling of the “reconstruction” artwork created specifically to hang in this historic venue!

  • Saturday, November 11, 2023 at 3pm
  • Crown and Treaty
  • 90 Oxford Rd, Uxbridge UB8 1LU Uxbridge, UK

After the talks in Uxbridge, I will post my last major article on the Crown and Treaty, and will include pictures from the talks, and (finally!) the picture of the Original Treaty House we have been working on for so long!

I am thrilled to thank my hosts for these talks, Sam (the General Manager of the Crown and Treaty) and Nick (Local History Society committee member and parish priest at Our Lady of Lourdes and St. Michael church). I am looking forward to meeting you both!

My final, deeply felt thanks go to the owners of the Old Spot Pub Company. Thank you so much for your significant investment in refurbishing this wonderful historic site. You have definitely restored some lovely shades of its original glory!

Congratulations to King Charles III, and Queen Camilla

The relationship between the United States and England is an interesting one. Its hard to imagine another country that is as generally dear to Americans as England is.

King Charles III is crowned with St Edward’s Crown by The Archbishop of Canterbury the Most Reverend Justin Welby during his coronation ceremony in Westminster Abbey, London. Picture date: Saturday May 6, 2023. Jonathan Brady/Pool via REUTERS

The relationship between the United States and England is an interesting one. Its hard to imagine another country that is as generally dear to Americans as England is. Certainly, no other is as dear to me. When I was last in England and was asked why an American would invest so much time and energy researching a figure of English history, I explained that many Americans see England as a close relative…for many of us, our “parent country”. Very much in the same way Christians feel about the old testament of the Christian bible (essentially, the “Hebrew Bible”), Americans feel English history is also “ours”.

Like all rebellious teenagers who’ve left home, Americans had a few things we needed to do our own way. But we are still close family. Most Americans have a deep respect for the stoic bravery of the English citizenry during WWII, an admiration for the wartime leadership of Winston Churchill, and an embarrassed discomfort that we didn’t get more forcefully involved in the defense of England sooner than we did. After all, it was our family that was being attacked.

Our ties are not just historical and cultural, either. American laws are based on English Common Law. Our Bill of Rights was derived from England’s. Even in our governance, which is thought so different, there are strong parallels between our congress and the English Parliament, and between the English Prime Minister and our President.

But there is no parallel in America for England’s constitutional monarchy. Given the chaos and shameless behavior of the last decade of our government, it could be argued that America is the poorer for it. Americans today couldn’t be faulted for wishing we had an independent steward of the dignity and moral compass of the country. In some sense, that void has been mitigated over the last 70 years by the adjacent presence of Queen Elizabeth II. Perhaps it will continue to be so by the reign of King Charles III and Queen Camilla.

So today, our congratulations and best wishes to the new king and queen. May their wise leadership be a sound counsel and a proud legacy to us all!

My Uxbridge Opus: Resurrecting a Fabulous Historic Site Unseen for Nearly 300 Years

In its time, the original Treaty House and grounds were far more grand (and dominant) than what remains today would suggest. My research has led me to believe that to say that “the negotiations took place in a part of the house that has since been taken down” is much akin to presenting a single tire as a bicycle with some parts missing!

It was a jarring realization that the Uxbridge Treaty House is only a single surviving wing of a much grander original structure. This takes nothing away from the lovely existing building–it is a treasure, and feels complete on its own. But perhaps because it feels complete and seems to have always been perceived in variations of its current form, there remains little room to comprehend the true scale of the “fine house” and grounds that hosted the Peace Treaty Negotiations there in 1645. We can be forgiven having difficulty imagining it since (as we learned in my last article), among the mountain of images of his historic structure, not one of the original structure seems to have survived.

Crown and Treaty, Uxbridge. Photo credit Wikipedia.

To better understand the historic event that took place there over nearly a month, I shifted my focus to sweeping together all the bits of clues I’d found and creating the best model I could of the original house.  To my surprise, I have been able to integrate these many shards into a remarkably cohesive and durable model, including a fair portion of its interior arrangements.

You see, in its time, the original Treaty House and grounds were far more grand (and dominant) than what remains today would suggest. My research has led me to believe that to say that “the negotiations took place in a part of the house that has since been taken down” is much akin to presenting a single tire as a bicycle with some parts missing!

The Mystery of the Original Treaty House

Perhaps the most useful aspect of my Uxbridge research has been reinforcement of the need to remain wary of falling in love with a particular theory. There are nearly always breadcrumbs of information to be discovered, but what should we make of them?  However, even chasing a theory that ultimately proves incorrect can be very useful. Nearly every time I have found myself officiating the frustrated funeral of an beloved theory, I’ve found the effort to validate it has led me to compelling insights I wouldn’t have come to any other way.

Although I do as much of my research online as possible, quite often I need to either borrow or buy books pointed to by footnotes to find the details I am looking for. My physical library has grown a whole new section of books related to my research into Uxbridge and the Treaty House.

My search for clues regarding the form of the original Treaty House led me to a few important sources. The first is a remarkable 1818 book of Uxbridge history called “The History of the Ancient Town and Borough of Uxbridge” by G. Redford and T.H. Riches.  This wonderful work contains the most significant (and well substantiated) record of the history of the house I have found. Captured by period historians in the early 1800’s, this book also includes many  fascinating notes about the state of the town at that time.  Reading this book two hundred years later, these glimpses into the early 1800’s Uxbridge inhabited by its authors were as interesting as the excellent historical research that was the focus of their work!

From the Riches/Redford book I have gathered the following important points:

  • The original house was likely built sometime in the latter 1500’s (1576?). For much of its early history, this house was the seat of the Bennett family.
  • The original house “which was then considerably larger than at present [i.e. 1818], stood in the centre of a large garden. The high road now [in 1818], passes through nearly the middle of the grounds.” Note: other sources I have found indicate the surviving building was roughly 1/3 of the original structure.
  • The property was apparently partitioned in 1724.
  • Following the death of the last Bennett (Leonora, Lady Bennett) in 1638, the property went through a handful of owners over the next century. At the time of the treaty negotiations in 1645, it was the property of a “Mr. Carr”.

The second source of critical information I added to my collection is one volume of a carefully written set analyzing the architectural history of the buildings of England. This particular volume is titled “The Buildings of England, London 3: North West” (1991). Amidst a sea of elaborately developed details about innumerable other important historic buildings, this remarkable book distills a history and architectural analysis of the Crown & Treaty into a single, un-illustrated paragraph at the bottom of page 363. I found this tiny account while following up on an obscure footnote from a different, modern architectural publication.

This is the architectural history book that yielded the critical, singular clue about the layout of the original Treaty House.

I laugh to myself at having had to purchase a book that is more than an inch thick (containing 804 pages) to access a single blurb of information that would almost fit on a business card.  But that concise little blurb was absolutely worth the trouble and expense! Among a number of other useful details, it contained a singular critical clue I needed about the layout of the original Treaty House.

And so, in a passage that could likely be read aloud in a few breaths, I found the following gems:

  • The Crown and Treaty was converted to an inn in 1802 after the property was purchased by the canal company to build a wharf for the Grand Canal. Note: the Grand Canal itself (which passes behind the Treaty House) was completed in 1793-4.
  • About the building’s history, the book states, “The present building consists of one wing of the formerly half-H shaped Treaty House…”
  • The rest of the building “was demolished in the 1750’s, and the road was later diverted across the forecourt.” From another source I learned the roadbed had been moved 52 yards from its original path.
Overhead schematic view of the relocated Oxford Road and the existing Treaty House, showing the probable locations of artist renderings from the Colne River and the hexagonal gatehouse.

The third great resource I found was a book  by John Rushworth which provides the following first hand account:

“This place being within the Parliament’s Quarters their Commissioners were the more civil and desirous to afford Accommodations to the King’s Commissioners, and they thought it fit to appoint Sir John Bennet’s House at the further end of the Town, to be fitted for the place of meeting for the Treaty.

The Fore-way into the House was appointed for the King’s Commissioners to come in at, and the Back-way for the Parliament’s Commissioners; in the middle of the House, was a fair great Chamber where they caused a large Table to be made like that heretofore in the Star-Chamber, almost square and without any upper or lower end of it. [note: another source indicates the negotiations room was on the upper floor].

The King’s Commissioners had one end and one side of the Table for them, the other side was for the Parliament’s Commissioners, and the end appointed for the Scots Commissioners to fit by themselves. Behind the Chair of the Commissioners on both sides sate the Divines and Secretaries, and such of the Commissioners as had not room to fit next to the Table.

At each end of the great Chamber was a fair Withdrawing-Room and Inner-Chamber, one for the King’s, and the other for the Parliament’s Commissioners to retire unto, and consult when they pleased.”

John Rushworth, ‘Historical Collections: The Treaty at Uxbridge, 1645

A Quick Aside: The Table at the “Star Chamber

Rushworth’s observations about the negotiation table was a particularly valuable clue. A large square table had been custom made for the treaty negotiations. And, this table was “like that heretofore in the Star-Chamber”. But what does that mean? I think many of us have heard of the Star Chamber.

Aside from being a contender for the most intriguing name ever, the Star Chamber was both an actual room at Westminster Palace and also a colloquialism for the medieval “Court of Star Chamber” that gathered there. This infamous court is a tale of well-intentioned ideas gone horribly wrong. Conceived as as something like a Supreme Court, the Star Chamber served as a court of appeals from lower courts. It also had a second, very important purpose. Composed of a combination of privy councillors and senior judges of the common law, the Star Chamber was also charged with the task of hearing cases against those so powerful they were unlikely to ever be convicted by lower courts. The Star Chamber was an important step in the transition from the medieval to modern institutions of governance.

Lauded in its first few decades for its efficiency, flexibility and fairness, this special court was weaponized in the reign of Henry VIII as a tool of political oppression. Unfortunately, once begun, the abuse of this court’s power continued for more than a hundred years–well into the reign of King Charles I. The Court of Star Chamber was finally abolished by the rising parliament led by John Pym in 1641–one year before the start of the English Civil War.

John Pym was a busy man in 1641. Perhaps you remember him from my recent articles analyzing the “Trial of Strafford” painting that hangs in the House of Lords at Westminster? In that painting, Pym is depicted illuminated in mid-oration as he himself (successfully) weaponizes the House of Commons as an instrument of the assassination of a key supporter of King Charles I: the Earl of Strafford, Thomas Wentworth. Although Pym was the architect of the Parliament’s effort to wrest power of the government from the crown in the English Civil War, he was not among the parliamentary commissioners present at Uxbridge in 1645. He had died of illness a year before.

This image shows the famous Star Chamber ceiling now preserved (with a cream background instead of blue) at Leasowe Castle. Photo Credit: Leasowe Castle Hotel.

Ironically, the Rushford clue about the large square negotiating table at Uxbridge may be the only real clue about the original furnishing of the Star Chamber itself (except for the dark blue ceiling with ornate gold stars the chamber is named for). When the chamber was demolished in the early 1800’s the ceiling and tapestries were salvaged and taken to the Leasowe Castle on the coast of the Irish Sea near Liverpool. You can see this ceiling today if you stay at the Leasowe Castle Hotel!

Looking at the drawing of the Star Chamber below, it seems that the room was rectangular, with the lesser dimension along the far wall. In this graphic, you can see the spatial analysis I used to estimate this room to be approximately 22 feet in width. Considering how large a table could occupy this space usably, I would estimate the table width could be as much as 16 feet on a side. Assuming humans have not dramatically changed their dimensions and allowing 2 feet per seated person, such a table would have seated as many as 8 people along each of its sides.

This is my spatial analysis of an image of the Star Chamber at Westminster and the table it once contained.

In Uxbridge, this would mean that roughly half of each side’s 32 commissioners (16 people) could have sat at the table, and at least this same number of seats behind the railings would have been required for the other half of the commissioners (and any other important attendees–the “Devines and Secretaries”). This is an important bit of information, as the size of this table and some idea of the minimum seating around it provides a defining bound on the minimum immediate space required to accommodate these negotiations.

First Model of the Original Layout of the Treaty House

 For awhile, I was convinced the “gatehouse” image discussed in my prior article could have been of the original Treaty House.  Given that the original house was described as a “half H”, the question is: how do you split that “H”? Assuming it was split vertically, the wings would have been aligned along the same axis on either side of a center structure of the house (see the graphics of my first overhead model, below).

First model of the original Treaty House. In this model, the two wings would have oriented along the same axis along opposite sides of a central structure.

Under this assumption, the view from the gatehouse image would have been looking at the far end of the “other” wing, and the surviving wing of the structure would have been almost entirely hidden from view. In my second graphic, this overhead model is laid onto satellite imagery. From this overlaid image, it is apparent that this model certainly meets the criteria that the relocated Oxford Road passes “through the center” of the original house!

The second graphic reflects my modeling of the second floor of this version of the original building. The second wing is a mirror image of the existing wing. In the center section of the building, I continued the Elizabethan “gallery” along the front windows. I added fireplaces in reasonable locations to provide the ability to heat those spaces during cold weather. Given the size of what might have been originally conceived as a ballroom space, I added fireplaces in opposing walls for heating. Then, I identified reasonable stairwell locations and antechambers while leaving withdrawing spaces through which attendees could access the main chamber without interrupting discussions in the private chambers.

When doing such modeling, it is important to keep in mind that the model must make sense for the purposes such a building might have been originally designed to accommodate. Certainly, given its location in an inn-stop town along such an important road would have made it a good candidate for hosting official functions (such as circuit court proceedings, government meetings, etc). Also, hosting large entertainment events (such as balls or masques) would have had political benefits to the building’s owner. But perhaps more interesting to its architect would have been the prospect of creating a Middlesex venue that could host royal visits or other important events of state. Such an ambition would have been a natural motivation for the investments in the park-like grounds and attractive architecture of the building. The design of the gatehouse is far from merely functional–it was meant to impress! And if that had been part of architectural vision for this property, those investments had certainly paid off in 1645.

So how did this interior model feel? How well did it meet the criteria defined by the evidence I’d gathered? I gave it a solid maybe. It met the criteria, but the center building seemed a bit wide, raising concerns about how it could be supported structurally. The “withdrawing ” areas feel more cramped than implied, and narrowing the building would have made them even smaller. The original interior arrangement might have been like this, but it feels a bit forced.

Eventually, I determined there were two inescapable problems with this model. First, although the depiction details seem a bit “muddy” in the original version of the image I was working with, the left-facing protrusions in the image don’t quite align with the model. If the center of the house did not protrude beyond the primary wall of the wings, you would have seen all four bay windows of the wings in that line of sight.  If it did protrude, the center section would have eclipsed the view of the two more distant bay columns, leaving three apparent protrusions from this viewpoint. The image only depicts two. In the end, I had to give the artist credit.  This is an excellent depiction, and the artist that did it would not have gotten that detail wrong.

The second realization was a more definite discrepancy. In this arrangement, the face of the building nearest the artist in the gatehouse image would have been approximately 120 feet closer to the artist than the current, Oxford Road face is today (accounting for the width of the center section of the building and the length of the nearer wing combined). So, if the roadbed was moved 52 yards (or 156 feet) from its original location to its current location next to face of the surviving wing, the visible face of the original eastern wing would only have been about 40 feet from the original roadbed–which lay outside the wall. Of course, the nearest face of the building in the depiction is much further away than this.

My Second Model of the Original Treaty House

After I got a good sulk out of my system, my curiosity rose again, and I retrieved my frustration-flung papers from the floor. The vertically bisected layout was a non-starter. So what did that leave? It was time to reconsider the other way to interpret “half H” as the description of a shape.  If the “H” were instead bisected horizontally, it produces a horseshoe-like shape.  I had thought of this earlier, but had dismissed it as a non-intuitive way to describe this shape. But there really was no other remaining way to form a “half H”.

So I began work on my second reconstruction model, this time with two parallel wings joined by a center span at one end–forming a horizontally-bisected “half H”.

Overhead layout of my second model of the original Treaty House.

In this model, the two wings lie parallel to one another, and are mirror images of one another. Because the house was at the “center of a large garden”, the windows would have looked outward onto gardens from either wing. In this arrangement, the chimney sides of the two wings would have faced each other. Similarly, the center span would have also featured chimneys along its back wall and featured significant windows looking out over the portion of the gardens directly in front of the house.

Note that the center span could not have been at the other end of the wings. This would have formed the classic “E” arrangement where the front door lies within the arms of the wings. Also, in such an arrangement, the relocated Oxford Road would not have passed through the center of the original building.

The semi-enclosed space between the wings would have been interesting. The artful chimneys would have made it quite striking from the few windows available. But given the logistical realities of the time, I suspect this would have been a largely utilitarian space. At a minimum, it likely would have included wagon delivery parking and service doors for access to the kitchen and storage areas, a protected well for water and and protected storage for firewood.

In the next graphic, you can see my interior model of the building. As indicated in the notes I’ve gathered, the negotiations chamber was in the center section of the building on the upper (second) floor, as illustrated.

The interior portion of my second reconstruction model of the original Treaty House.

In this model, the Royalist commissioners would have entered through the center door on the right (surviving) wing. Since it was closer to town this would have reasonably been described as the “Fore-way”. The parliamentary commissioners would have walked around the building and entered via the side door on the opposite wing (the “back-way”). Each would have turned toward the center of the building and ascended stairs to the second floor, where they could choose to enter their antechamber(s) or the large windowed “withdrawing room” for their side.

When ready to join the negotiations, the commissioners would pass through ornate double doors to enter the central “ballroom”. Arrangements of elegant chairs lined either side of a path to the central railing. Entering through gates in the railing, the commissioners made their way to their seats at the expansive table. Much as the mythical “round table” imagined by Chaucer for King Arthur and his knights, this brilliantly conceived table had no “head” and so placed all the commissioners on respectfully equal footing during these talks.

The ornate original panelling adorning the existing Treaty House today.

The surrounding walls of these spaces were likely fitted with the same famous rich panelling preserved in the surviving wing of the Treaty House. The walls were hung with many rich (likely official, state themed) tapestries to mark the occasion. Many-candled chandeliers above the table and sconces around the chamber provided most of the evening lighting, as the negotiations often did not end until after midnight. The rich, heavy drapes around the large windows were likely pulled closed as night fell, or as needed to trade away light for warmth during the bitter cold. When the drapes were open, the attendees could look out over the expansive gardens that lay between the house and high ornate wall standing more than 100 feet away. Within the chamber, the crackling of multiple fires provided islands of warmth to those gathered nearby.

Of course, there is some room for variance from this interior model, but perhaps not as much as you might think. With a gardens all around, and many windows facing them, the area nearest those windows would have generally been open in the Elizabethan gallery style. The pattern of fireplace placement with each room or space having at least one fireplace, plus orthogonally facing fireplaces at the boundaries of the large glassed in spaces) was taken from the existing structure and common practices with such galleries. The main “ballroom” would have been as large as possible, so this space would have been open completely between the outside walls (on the order of 30 feet wide).

Large closable doorways were probably situated between the central chamber and the large “withdrawing” areas on each side. This would have allowed flexibility in how the space was used. When open, these large doors would make the conjoined space space feel fairly continuous. When closed, such doors would allow the spaces to be isolated so they could be used separately and could be more effectively heated. Also, the wall structure such doors would have been built into was likely architecturally necessary to house fireplaces near the windows and load bearing columns to support the roof over such significant spans. Such columns needed to be placed somewhere, and the space in the middle of of the central room must have been unobstructed. Otherwise, it could not have accommodated the large table.

In my opinion, the most vulnerable details of this interior model are the placement of the stairs and the walls of the antechambers. For example, the staircases might reasonably have been located in the “withdrawing” areas and could have been implemented in any of several layouts. No matter where they were placed, these staircases would have been elegant. The more practical staff stairwells would have been located at the far end of the wings.

This overview of the grounds of the original Treaty House provides an estimate of the extent of its grounds. The famous gatehouse is included, but there certainly would have been additional gates.

The next graphic is my model of the estate itself. Although the boundaries of the property could easily have been any among a variety of irregular polygons, the building’s location mid-way between the beds of the Colne and Frays rivers and the hint of equidistance in the description of the house (lying “at the center” of a large gardens) led me to assume a roughly square boundary for the estate wall with its sides aligned to the walls of the existing structure. Of course, the size of this square was yielded by the fact that this estate was bisected by the road, which had been moved “52 yards” to align it with the bridges crossing the Colne and the Grand Junction Canal and then Mercer’s bridge across the Frays stream. Geometrically, this would have made the walled-in grounds approximately 300-350 feet on each side.

Recently, I got a gratifying confirmation of this speculation. I came across a pair of 1825 maps of Uxbridge showing road details and also the township boundaries. The first is a map (below) of the roadways and primary buildings present in Uxbridge at that time (1825). I have overlaid a properly scaled square of my estimated estate walls and registered it against the red outline of the Treaty House footprint at that time. In this map, there is a spur in the roadway from High Street just after it crosses the Frays stream. from High Street. This spur (which I believe was a vestige of the original bed of the Oxford Road, traces a path directly around the corner of my estimated estate wall!

Annotated detail view of an 1825 Map of Uxbridge in the collection of the Hillingdon Council. This view shows what appears to be a vestige of the original road around the Treaty House grounds, and even seems to show the location of the hexagonal gatehouse. Note: North is to the left.

Even more interesting–look closely at that corner of the property. Do you see that small red dot just inside the dotted line? I suspect this was the footprint of the hexagonal gatehouse, apparently still in existence at this time. Lying next to that gatehouse you can also see the end of a light blue canal leading back to the Grand Canal. If this scene seems familiar, it should. This is exactly the scene in the middle 1800’s gatehouse drawings which depict a canal passing directly in front of the elegantly dilapidated hexagonal gatehouse, with the surviving Treaty House building in the background.

One of several middle 1800s depictions of the hexagonal gatehouse in the foreground. Note the reinforced walls of the canal and the canal boat depicted passing by.

The next graphic is taken from a different 1825 map that illustrated the boundary of the Uxbridge township at that time. I had actually expected the property the Treaty House was built on to be much more elongated, extending to the South. I was a bit shocked to find the township boundary directly parallels the rear wall of the estate in my model of the grounds! This apparent extension of the township boundary (which otherwise lies to the east of the Frays stream) provides an interesting indicator of the footprint of the developed properties at that time.

Detail from an 1825 map of Hillingdon Parish that shows boundary of the Uxbridge township (which I have highlighted in yellow). Note this township boundary includes a rectangular shape that encompasses my estimated estate grounds of the original Treaty House.

To anyone who has ever owned and cared for horses for any period of time, leaving an apron of land beyond the walled-in part of the grounds wall makes perfect sense. Every time you “muck the stalls”, the cartload of horse manure and straw collected has to be dumped somewhere, and you would not want that inside the estate walls! Naturally, these estate walls would have included several utility gateways. Perhaps none was more utilized the one that would have been located near the outbuildings (and stables) at the rear of the walled-in estate. This “back-wall” gate would likely gotten significant use as manure carts, horses being grazed and wagons carrying firewood harvested from the commons passed through it.

That was a lot to cover, so if you made it this far, thanks for your interest in this work. Now, with the main course out of the way, it’s time for the dessert! In my next article, I will be presenting the wonderful, long sought image of the original Treaty House created by the talented artist helping me with this reconstruction.


It’s great to be writing again, and it will be wonderful to turn my attention back the queue of other articles that has been on hold for so long. I’m adding this section to my articles to share some of the other interesting things competing for my time. Most recently, this was our “bucket list” adventure at “Dry Tortugas”.

Dry Tortugas is America’s smallest national park. It is basically a large hexagonal brick fort from the 1700’s. This expansive fort almost completely covers a small spit of sand poking out of the Gulf of Mexico. fort Jefferson was a naval outpost built to support ships patrolling the gulf during the “golden age of pirates” of the late 1700’s. It lies 70 miles due West from Key West–the furthest island in the chain of “keys” at the very tip of Florida. A ferry boat makes a daily run to Dry Tortugas and provides the only services available there. Reservations on this ferry must generally be made a year in advance.

Along one side of the fortress walls there is a narrow strip of land you can camp on. After driving 2200 miles from Colorado (and dancing our way around hurricane Nicole) to get there, we camped and explored Dry Tortugas and a few neighboring keys for 3 fascinating days.

The unusual history and sea kayaking were as wonderful as we’d hoped, but we hadn’t expected to see migrant boats arriving from Cuba. It was moving. Nothing will make you appreciate what you have more than seeing someone fling themselves down to kiss the sand after a daring 100 mile open water crossing in an overcrowded, rickety boat–just for a chance of having it also…

A Walk Backwards in Time with the “Treaty House” of Uxbridge

The history of the Treaty House in Uxbridge was a story I was bursting to write, but just couldn’t bring myself to publish until I had what I needed to tell the story well. Originally, I expected it would only take a few weeks (maybe a month?) to do the research and get the story written. But that was much more than a year ago! This project has shown me just how stubborn I can be sometimes. But it has paid off…

If we were so misguided as to think of history as nothing more than a collection of dates, names and events, I wouldn’t describe it as merely uninteresting–I’d describe it as positively anesthetic! Why should we spend one minute of our own limited lives trying to understand the life of someone who already had their time under the sun? It’s a fair question. For me, the first answer is that I don’t believe anything is preordained. Quite often, whatever happened might have unfolded differently if some of the underlying factors had played out differently. Certainly, it’s not hard to imagine that the currently unfolding war in Ukraine would be going much differently if not for the unexpected solidarity and fighting spirit of the people and leaders of Ukraine.

My second reason is that generally, the “plays” of history are condensed into a general narrative focused on the primary actors and the outcomes of the “big picture”. Even if those narratives are entirely accurate, they seldom have the luxury of breathing life into the choices, character and outcomes of the lesser actors most of us would relate to. For me, grasping what it was really like in their time allows those long-dead actors to hold a mirror up for us to better understand ourselves and those around us. It allows the choices of those actors to provide lessons about the potential consequences of our own actions (or inactions). My favorite thought experiment is this: if we could travel through time and witness historical events like the Treaty Negotiations of 1645 for ourselves, how much of the scene would surprise us?

In the same way that my desire to have some idea what Sir Richard Lane looked like led me on a remarkable journey to find his lost portrait, my desire to comprehend the 1645 treaty negotiations through his eyes has led me to the mystery of the building that hosted those negotiations. And I discovered a surprise lurking in the details I found. The original Treaty House and its grounds were not just beautiful, they were grand. This property stood defiantly on one end of town, forcing the high road to Oxford to go around it. And to the royalist commissioners, it was outfitted by the peace faction of Parliament in hospitality and respect. It was provisioned in hope as thoroughly as it was in staples.

Despite how complete the existing Treaty House seems, historical records are clear that the building seen today was originally a much larger building. It’s also clear that the rest of that building was taken down long ago. Early on, I had hoped the room the negotiations took place in was still there. I would have loved to have stood in that space and imagined being there. It didn’t take long for me to discover this would not be possible, though. I soon found other records that make it clear that the negotiations room was in a part of the house that no longer exists.

Although disappointed, I was also hooked. I wanted to know more. I wanted to know what the original building was like. These negotiations were not some small meeting in the 1600’s equivalent of a corporate conference room. This event took months to plan, much more akin to a modern summit meeting in both size and importance. Each side of the negotiations was allowed 32 commissioners, but those accompanying the Royalist commissioners alone numbered around 180. The event lasted more than a month, requiring significant planning and care to decorate and provision the event for its participants. Try to imagine the scale of a room able to handle the large square table (approximately 16 feet on each side) that was built for the occasion. Then imagine there was space for a railing around it with additional seating beyond the railing.

What were the thoughts of Sir Richard Lane and his colleagues as they travelled that road into enemy held territory that cold January? How were they treated when they arrived ? Despite the well-documented hospitality of their parliamentarian hosts, feelings ran high on both sides of the argument. For their security, the commissioners were allowed to carry their swords for personal protection. And what was the sight that awaited them as they walked in groups from the Inns at the center of town?

The stakes could not have been higher. If the negotiations had been successful, much of the pain of that era might have been avoided. Imagine if there had been no exile of Charles II and no execution of King Charles I. What if there had been no Commonwealth era and and no need for a Restoration?

But the royalist commissioners were also working for a much more personal outcome–reaching an agreement was their best hope of wresting their careers, families and very lives from the nightmare scenario of having remained loyal to an increasingly lost cause. For Richard Lane, a successful treaty would have allowed him to return to London not merely as a senior Master of the Bench of Middle Temple, but as Chief Baron of the king’s Exchequer Court, and personal advisor to the next King of England. Sir Richard would have been a much-remarked upon figure in the post-war era. His thoughtful and well founded understanding of the law and governance would have marked him among the most widely respected figures of his time. He would have returned to his family and home in Northampton in great favor, influence and probably wealth.

But that’s the version of history that didn’t happen. The peace negotiations of 1645 were the tipping point for Sir Richard Lane’s personal fate, and they were not successful. The war resumed. His family home and possessions were confiscated by a vengeful Parliament. Only a year later, Lane participated in his next negotiations–for terms of surrender for the king’s wartime capital of Oxford. Afterwards, Sir Richard Lane was punished for his loyalty to the throne by being forced into exile with the king’s heir, Charles II. King Charles I was captured, and after years of resisting pressure to compromise the “divine right of kings”, he was executed. For years, Sir Richard Lane served the impoverished ascendant King Charles II in exile as counsellor and Lord Keeper of the Great Seal. He would eventually fall ill and die there, never having seen his family or his home again.

The 1645 Peace Treaty Negotiations were a happier tipping point for the mansion that hosted them. If not for its legacy of hosting one of the most important treaty negotiations in English history, the mansion previously known as the “Bennet House” would otherwise have been torn down in obscurity long ago.

The Search for the Original Treaty House

All I needed to tell the story of the Treaty Negotiations effectively was an image of the original mansion. If I could just locate one, I would wrap up the research, publish my article and move on to the next subject. It was easy enough to think so, but locating the image I needed soon became the deepest “rabbit hole” I’ve stumbled into yet!

The difficulty isn’t finding historic images of the Treaty House—there are many of them. If fact, those images tell a story of a building that has seen many uses, and has stood while many buildings around it rose and fell (including several buildings that were appended to the Treaty House itself at differing times).  For a time, I thought I had even found the image I was after. But after months of studying, occasionally over-interpreting, and ultimately dismissing every image I could find, I realized something important: all of the surviving images of the Treaty House are of the existing building over time. It seems by the time even the oldest of these surviving images was created, living memory of the original structure had long since faded.

What has survived of the original house are a smattering of clues and descriptive mentions in various historical sources. I decided to see if I could leverage these clues to extend my speculative model of the original interior of the existing structure into a model of the entire original building. This was a time consuming but interesting exercise. Through a few iterations, it has yielded a compelling model that aligns well with the available evidence and architectural styles present in the existing building. Finally, with the help of a talented and historically inclined graphic artist, I now have the image I have sought: a remarkable sketch of the “reconstructed” Original Treaty House yielded by this model. And it is beautiful. I will share it in the next few articles, but we have some interesting ground to cover first.

Let’s start by unwinding a visual history of the Treaty House from modern times, through the Industrial age and backwards to the time of the middle 1600’s. Let’s get a sense of what has transpired since the time Sir Richard Lane and the other commissioners made their way through the spaces of what is now an elegant restaurant on their way upstairs to stop the war and save their king.

A Journey Backwards in Time with the Treaty House

The challenge with trying to understand the original form of a mansion that was built 300 years before the invention of photography is that buildings normally undergo changes over time. For instance, although the current structure is a natural and timeless brick construction, for most of modern history, the Treaty House was sheathed in a layer of white stucco. The brickwork was re-exposed sometime in the 1970s. The effort and care that must have taken is almost enough for me forgive the 70’s for disco…

Modern street view of the Crown and Treaty (2018). The building sits at a major intersection in what can reasonably be described as a technology park.

Additional modern views of the Crown and Treaty (2018) for reference, showing all faces of the building.

The Treaty House in the 1900’s

The next two images are photographs of the Treaty House from the early years of World War II. On the left is a photograph from 1937, and on the right, a colorized photograph from ca 1940. The most striking insights of these images are the closeness of the street alongside the building, the presence of an attached building along the face of the Oxford Road end of the building and the stucco covering the original brickwork.  At the time, the main floor served as a retail establishment with the second floor used for living spaces. Note the presence of the second floor sign projecting over the Oxford Road calling attention to the structure’s historic role. An inspection of the modern images reveals that the this metal structure and an updated version of the sign survive to this day.

Photographs of the Treaty House in the pre-World War II era.

 

A unique photograph of the building from the early 1900s depicts the state of the rear of the building at that time. Its interesting to note that in the early 1900’s, the stuccoing had been removed from the non-street faces. This was a change. As you will see, the rear of the building was also also stuccoed in earlier times. The concrete structural repair to the upper floor wall at the right of this image. This concrete structural repair is still present today.

1903 photograph of the rear of the Treaty House

The Treaty House in the 1800’s

The time of the Industrial Revolution was also a time of great renaissance of historical interest in England. During this era (middle 1800’s), a great many historical articles were printed and accompanied by illustrations to support them. Thus, there are a number of interesting images of the Treaty House from this time. Some of these images are contemporary, while others were historical, based on older images.

In the carefully made image of the Treaty house (below) dated 1850, you can see a full view of the building that had been joined to the side of the Treaty House facing onto the Oxford Road. Notice the changing door arrangements on the Oxford Road face of the Treaty House itself.  This image also reveals the purpose of the horizontal loop at the end of the metal sign that still overhangs the road—it once held a large decorative crown.

At the time this 1850 image was made of the Treaty House, it was apparently still serving as an Inn. It had been adapted to this purpose during a major renovation in 1802.

This next image is from the same general era. This view from the Colne River shows a ford crossing next to the historic “5 arch” bridge (at right).  This foreground crossing allowed travellers who didn’t mind getting their feet wet to water their horses while avoid paying a toll to use the bridge. Just beyond lies a second bridge, over the Grand Canal. And in the middle distance, the Treaty House at a time the building was known as the “Crown Inn”.  

View of the western end of Uxbridge ca 1818 (from Riches/Redford book, inserted at pp 76). On the chimney wall of the building are the words “Crown Inn”.

There is one other fun detail worth mentioning in this image: can you make out a small sign with a white swan hanging from the tree in front of the small house at the left of this image? This was likely the descendant of the “Swan Inn”, which was on this site in the 1600’s.  Remarkably, this business survives to this day (at this same location) and is known as the “Swan and Bottle”. When I am next in Uxbridge, I absolutely intend to buy a pint there as well!

It should be noted that the period use of the name (the Crown Inn) for the Treaty House should not be confused with the “Crown Inn” of the 1600’s.  This earlier Crown Inn was located in the center of town near the “George Inn”.

1831 Depiction of the “George Inn” in the center of Uxbridge

In 1645, this pair of Uxbridge inns sat somewhat symbolically on opposite sides of the street in the middle of Uxbridge. They served as the separate working headquarters of the royalist and parliamentary negotiation teams. Although it hosted the negotiations themselves, the Treaty House was a private residence at the time. It seems only a few especially important guests actually stayed there while the negotiations took place. The commissioners (of both sides) were quartered all over town, gathering at their respective inns to meet with their colleagues when the negotiations were not in session.

The next image worth discussing is of the Gatehouse (from Riches/Redford book, inserted at pp 64).  This ornate and long-vanished gatehouse is believed to have been a remnant of what was originally an enclosing wall around the original Treaty House property. There are several surviving images of this fascinating scene that were clearly made at different times.

This gatehouse drawing from the Riches/Redford book is a great illustration of an important point. Drawings are not direct, objective evidence in the way that photographs are. They are graphical evidence which must be considered for validity.

In this particular depiction, Treaty House in the distance is geometrically flawed, and therefore potentially inaccurate, in my opinion. For example, notice that the angle of the metal sign structure and the angle of the roofine are both depicted seeming to move to the right as they get further away, while the chimney line is depicted angling to the left as it gets further away. Also, the shape of the end face of the building is odd (and inconsistent with other depictions in this, or any other era). One detail that does seem credible is the disappearance of the elegant second floor bay window that once protruded over the Oxford Road.

To its credit, this image clearly explains something that is murky in earlier images this one was apparently based on–a foreground boat canal laid in what was (in earlier times) the bed of the original High Road as it ran around the Treaty House grounds.  This is consistent with other records from the first decades after the Grand Canal was finished. By that time, the original property had been split and the Oxford Road had been diverted to pass directly in front of the end of the Treaty House (as it does today). After the Grand Canal was finished, a patchwork of minor “branch” canals were dug to allow canal barge cargoes to be unloaded directly in front of the many industrial buildings which had sprung up in the area. This part of Uxbridge had become an industrial center taking advantage of the place the region’s best water transport (the Grand Canal) and the best road transport (the Oxford Road) intersected.

The next image is well done, and unique. This perspective provides a clear view of the second story bay window and many ornate flourishes that seem shared by the gatehouse and the Treaty House (which were originally part of the same property).

Drawing of the Treaty House as it was in 1812 (from the Victoria History of the County of Middlesex, Vol. IV.)

 The fragment of wall on the right side of the gatehouse includes the vestige of a large arch rising from it. This probable fragment of a gate and the significant structure to the left of the gatehouse are evidence of a wall surrounding the original property. This makes sense. Such a wall would have been especially important for a property that lay alongside a major roadway.

This image is striking for capturing a number of ornate construction details which disappeared in later, more pragmatic periods of the building’s existence. This primarily includes the dormers above the bay window columns on the long side of the building, the elaborate plasterwork and graceful second floor bay window on the face overlooking the Oxford Road. While this wall was not original, both style and materials from the original house were likely incorporated when this wall was created to repair the severed end of the building.

I was particularly intrigued by the large structure that appears to be appended to the chimney wall of the Treaty House. This particular auxiliary structure is unique to this image. I have to admit this structure sent me on a significant tangent. Studying it, I wondered if the original image might have been from the middle 1700s and might have depicted the original form of the Treaty House. To evaluate this possibility, I created a conceptual model of the original building built upon that possibility. This model turned out to align with nearly all of the criteria from evidence I had gathered. Nearly all. Like Edison’s famous failed attempts to develop a light bulb, it was this failed model that let me to the correct one. In my next article, I will share these models and the form of the original Treaty House they revealed!

The Treaty House in the latter 1700s

A 1796 woodcut of the Treaty House from the Colne river crossing.

Moving into the late 1700’s, there are only a few images available.  The first is an excellent woodcut made from the perspective of someone on the far bank of the Colne looking back at the Treaty House. The presence of the bridge over the Grand Canal (which was finished in 1793), is consistent with the reported date of this image (1796).  Looking closely at the left end of the building, you can see a second story bay window protruding out over the high road. On the right, note the absence of the hexagonal structure that later appears (and is present today) at that that end of the building.

There are two final images that seem to be the oldest surviving images of the Treaty House. Both depictions are from a perspective looking at the windowed face of the existing building. Both show the Treaty House with a brick exterior, which would place them before the first stuccoing of the building as it appears in the 1796 image above.

Image of the Treaty House from the Sutherland Collection in the Bodleian Archives at Oxford. Thi image appears to show the building ca 1770’s-1780’s. Photo credit Alamy.

The first of these images is an excellent depiction which I believe shows the Treaty House as in the decades after the main house and other wing were demolished, and before significant repairs eliminated many early details. This image (above) seems to show the house is a state of some neglect and hastily made repairs in the latter 1700’s. I will discuss this image in more detail in my next article, as it provides some surprising insights into the original form of the house–before significant repair and changes around the turn of the century and the 1802 remodel.

The other of these earliest images is an enigma. This depiction was not made from direct observation, as it has a number of glaring technical flaws no artist capable of producing the image would have made had they been looking at the building while making it. This image appeared in a reader contribution section of the August 1789 edition of the Gentlemen’s Magazine. I’d seen this image before, but had discounted it because of the glaring issues with the depiction.

Drawing of the Treaty House from an August 1789 issue of the “Gentlemen’s Magazine”. With several obvious flaws, it was not made from direct observation, but may have originally been a proposal/concept drawing of what the house would look like after it was salvaged from the demolition of the rest of the house.

The roof is clearly”flattened”, and the chimney configurations are completely wrong–only two of three sets of flues are shown, and they are not in the right locations. Because flues rise straight up from the fireplaces they serve, this configuration would have left much of the house unheated. The bay colum on the right face of the building is also a bit odd, with the depiction of that face seeming wider than the building actually is.

The other end of the building is completely wrong, also. What I think of as the “kitchen” end of the building is integrated under the roof in every other depiction, with an enlarged footprint that provides strength to that end of the building. In this flawed drawing, it appears as a nearly detached structure. Even the caption of this image is very much in error. Not only was no peace agreement reached during these negotiations (after nearly a month of negotiations the treaty was abandoned), but the king was never in attendance. In fact, there is no record indicating King Charles I ever set foot in the Treaty House.

What stymied me is why this image was made in the first place? The fact that it appeared in the 1789 edition of the magazine only establishes that the image existed by that time. It could have been in existence for many years and randomly submitted by whoever possessed it in 1789. And I think it was. The historical errors in the note published with the image suggest it was contributed by someone with limited historical knowledge.

After wrestling with this odd “splinter” under my nail, a scenario finally occurred to me that could reasonably explain the origin of this image. It is my theory that this was a “concept” drawing for what the Treaty House might look like after this still-existing wing was salvaged from the demolition of the rest of the house. Imagine a middle 1700’s developer meeting to discuss their proposal for the work, and providing a drawing to substantiate that the wing could be successfully converted into a coherent, stand-alone building. In this scenario, the exact details wouldn’t have been important. The artist could have reasonably sketched out the details of this wing before going back to a more convenient workplace to produce the final drawing. It also explains the idyllic, park-like setting around the depicted building.

If this theory is correct, then the unique depiction of the original door in the middle of the wing should be at least roughly correct. The stylized gables above the bay columns are unique among images of the Treaty House, but are consistent with other architecture from this period that featured such gables. Of course, these gables are not present in the latter 1700’s image, suggesting that the roof was redone and simplified either as part of the salvaging of this wing during the demolition or sometime in the decades after. Other information substantiates that the full height bay column on the Oxford Road end of this building was implemented after the demolition. This bay column was later amended to remove its lower half, possibly during the 1802 remodel. The the pair of windows on the ground floor at the right end of this wing seem to have been an original feature of the building, even though they seem to have been corrupted by piecemeal repairs by the time the “dilapidated” image was made in the latter 1700’s.

In the next article, I will be introducing the painstakingly produced reconstruction image of the original Treaty House!


I never intended to “take the Pandemic off” from writing, but it certainly worked out that way. I suppose most of us have had our priorities reworked by the historical dramas unfolding around us, so perhaps you understand. In that sense, I do hope this article finds you well!

Probably the most important of the diversions which have otherwise occupied my time is that Mary and I were married in February of 2021 in a classic “turning lemons into lemonade” story…

We were months away from a planned April wedding when new pandemic restrictions threw those plans into the ditch. So we made up a mischievous “Plan B” and married ourselves alone at the Summit of a 12,000 foot high Colorado mountain in February.

With the temperature reaching a high of only 5 degrees (F) and snow blowing around us, I set up a camera tripod with “snow feet” to capture the moment. Using the flowers as a wind screen, I had nestled a lapel microphone deep in the bouquet so the wind wouldn’t drown out our voices. We had tied our rings to our wrists with loops of satin ribbon so we wouldn’t lose them in the deep snow if they were dropped by numb fingers. Finally, I attached three cameras to the tripod because we had agreed there would be no “second takes”–we would either have the the video afterwards, or we wouldn’t. It was a good thing we did this because we later discovered that two of the three cameras had failed in the cold!

So in the end, our wedding was beautiful, exhilarating and achingly romantic. We were both on the verge of frostbite on our hands by the time we got our skis back on, but we didn’t care.

The fun part is that we didn’t tell anyone about it. They found out when we lowered a large video screen in the middle of our September “wedding” some seven months later. We giggled ourselves to sleep many nights preparing to drop that “bomb” on two hundred of our closest family and friends! It went over wonderfully. To paraphrase that great English philosopher (Monty Python, of course), ” We’re not dead yet!”.

Farewell and Well Done to Queen Elizabeth II

We are on a long trip to the Great Lakes region, and it has been gratifying to see the scale of the recognition of the Queen’s passing here in America. Flags are at half staff in town after town as we drive through. And not just municipal buildings, either. The majority of businesses and private residences with flags are honoring her as well.

Thank you for your dignity and leadership. You were a towering presence in our time. Your namesake would be proud.

The “Crown and Treaty”: Home of the 1645 Uxbridge Treaty Negotiations

If time and circumstance have rendered the “Crown and Treaty” a diminished but still graceful woman of age, my work over the last many months has revealed that it wasn’t always so. Nearly 400 years ago, when the newly appointed Lord Chief Baron of the Exchequer Court, Sir Richard Lane, and the other peace commissioners walked through her doors, she was the spectacular and defiant diva who “owned” that end of town…

As we got off the plane at Heathrow, I couldn’t have imagined the article about our first quick stop in England would eventually require many months to complete.

We had an important appointment at Windsor Castle later the afternoon we arrived. But the plane had arrived on time, leaving us just enough time to swing by Uxbridge on the way. There was something in Uxbridge I really wanted to see for myself!

Hemmed in by a phalanx of glass-sheathed office buildings, and utterly out of place in a modern technology park, the “Crown and Treaty” is a gorgeous 500 year-old building perched precariously upon a bare vestige of its former ground. If time and circumstance have rendered this building a diminished but still graceful woman of age, my work over the last many months has revealed that it wasn’t always so. Nearly 400 years ago, when the newly appointed Lord Chief Baron of the Exchequer Court, Sir Richard Lane, and the other peace commissioners walked through her doors, she was the spectacular and defiant diva who “owned” that end of town…

The Peace Treaty Negotiations of 1645

In the late Fall of 1644, Sir Richard Lane had been living in the packed royalist enclave of Oxford for two years while the English Civil war raged. This struggle to decide the fate of the “divine right of kings” versus representative government in England had recently begun to trend poorly for King Charles I. When the peace faction within the rebellious Parliament was able to win support for an attempt at a peace treaty, a truce was struck and treaty negotiations were planned. For a few months, both sides enjoyed a respite while arrangements were set to hold the treaty negotiations in the town of Uxbridge, partway along the road connecting the opposing war capitals of London and Oxford.

This sign, emplaced over an entrance to the Crown and Treaty commemorates the event that has become this building’s namesake. It reads: ANCIENT TREATY HOUSE — Where the ill fated CHARLES THE FIRST held the memorable, but unsuccessful treaty with his Parliament in January 1645.

A large mansion on one end of that road-inn town was chosen as the negotiations site. Quickly provisioned, furnished and decorated to accommodate the gravitas of the occasion (and the large number of participants), this mansion would be afterwards known as the “Treaty House”. The historic importance of the treaty negotiations held there was remarked upon in an 1850 article appearing in “Gentlemen’s Magazine”:

By far the most memorable treaty on English ground, made or attempted to be made between a king and his people (Runnymede not excepted) was attempted at Uxbridge in the winter of 1644-5…

Peter Cunningham, Gentlemen’s Magazine, April 10 1850

For me, a chance to visit the “Crown and Treaty” (as it is known today) was a chance to walk in the place Sir Richard Lane and his fellow commissioners met as they struggled to find terms their warring masters could accept. I was curious to learn whatever I could about their experience. Where did everyone stay for the month the negotiations continued? What did they eat? How well did their accommodations keep out the February cold? How did both sides receive those close friends and former colleagues they found seated on the opposite side of the negotiating table?

But I soon discovered that details about the “Crown and Treaty” are frustratingly sparse once you get past the few existing summary articles and exterior photographs. I was unable to locate a floor plan or any description of the building’s historic layout. Excepting only a few grainy vintage photographs of an upstairs room referred to as the “presence chamber”, the scant interior photographs I was able to find were anecdotal shots of pub tables on the modern main floor. In 2018, the enigmatic 500-year-old Crown and Treaty had become the stately but beleaguered home of a struggling local pub and small band venue. 

Of course, a good pub and small band venue is one of my favorite things!  If we could make time to stop by the Crown and Treaty—and if they were open—I would love to sip a pint of their best local ale while absorbing everything about the building around me.  And if I was lucky, perhaps the proprietor would be willing to give me a brief walk-through of the building! 

Unfortunately, this was not to be…

Visit to the Crown and Treaty

Arriving at the Crown and Treaty straight from Heathrow, it didn’t take us long to discover the building was locked, and no one was around. Making the best of it, we set about photographing and studying the exterior of the building.

A short while later, we noticed a small group of people gathered at the front door. We introduced ourselves and discovered we were talking to the new owner of the building and a group of young people planning to assist in an upcoming restoration. Despite my rising hopes, it soon became evident that the previous owner (who was supposed to arrive with the key) was not going to show up that day. Ah, well! We enjoyed meeting them, and perhaps someday we will be able to return and have that pint and a meal amid their handiwork.  I recently read that the Crown and Treaty has since re-opened as a fine new restaurant.

Mary and I, fresh off the airplane in April 2018, posing with the pending new owner of the Crown and Treaty and a group of young worker set to refurbish the property.

Later, as my research into the building’s history progressed, I realized it wouldn’t have made much difference if we had been allowed in.  Although it would have been fascinating to see in any case, I now believe the room where the negotiations were held has not existed for more than three centuries.

Unraveling the Enigmatic History of the Crown and Treaty

The existing accounts consistently indicate that today’s “Crown and Treaty” was originally part of a larger house. Regrettably, those accounts consistently suggest that the room in which the 1645 peace negotiations were held was likely in a portion of the house that no longer exists.

Of course, someone less obsessed would have let it go at that. But I became intrigued by a scattering of clues I’ve encountered in my research on the treaty negotiations. Like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle strewn across a table, I had the sense that much more of the seemingly lost history of this English historical landmark was within reach, if I could just figure out how these scattered clues fit together! How could I resist that? So, I clicked on my headlamp and dove headfirst into this latest “rabbit-hole”!

“Reconstruction” of the original Crown and Treaty Floorplan

Using a combination of photographs I had taken and overhead imagery from Google Earth, I was first able to construct an overhead building plan of the Crown and Treaty (below). From this, I obtained a rough measurement for the existing building: 80 feet long and 30 feet wide (approximately 24.5 by 9 meters).  The existing windows make it clear that the building has 3 floors of usable space: 2 regular floors and an attic/dormer floor.

Roof plan of the Crown and Treaty derived from street level and overhead (satellite) images

Chimney Analysis

Among the most striking features of the Treaty House are the majestic array of chimneys along the building’s back side, and the equally beautiful array of windows across its front. As I contemplated what could be deduced about the interior of this building, I realized there are some timeless rules of construction that could tell me a great deal about the interior based on these features:

  • Windows that face the South are best for gathering heat and light into the rooms behind them
  • Where they exist, interior partitioning walls connect to exterior walls between windows
  • enclosed spaces are easier to heat selectively
  • generally, every significant space in the living area of the house will have at least one source of direct heat (and in the middle 1600s, the only reasonable source of heat was a fireplace)
  • each fireplace will (generally) have its own chimney flue
  • chimney flues do not follow complicated paths—they generally rise directly (or nearly so) above the fireplaces they service
  • in a space large enough to require more than one fireplace, the fireplaces will generally not be located together

Looking at the pictures of the Crown and Treaty, it’s clear the majority of the flues (11 of them) lie along the back wall of the house. By the rules above, this means that all of the 11 related fireplaces must lie along the back wall as well. Given how tightly grouped these flues are, it became fairly clear that the eastern half of the building’s back wall must have been dedicated to a row of bedroom-width spaces on the first two floors, leaving a couple of flues for fireplaces in the attic level.

With a building depth of 30 feet and following the (incorrect) mindset that the house had been built as an inn (with lots of rooms–a purpose it served in later centuries), I assumed the back rooms extended to just less than half the depth of the house. But this left me with a problem: where were the flues for the fireplaces needed to heat the opposing set of rooms I imagined lay along the front of the house? It was clear there was an important architectural design consideration I did not yet understand.

A lesson in Elizabethan Manor Design

So, I threw myself into researching Elizabethan manor design. Eventually, I uncovered the floor plans of other Elizabethan manor houses which had similar chimney arrangements. And there was the answer! What I hadn’t realized is that the front of the building (with all of the windows) contained a single, long gallery lined with the ranks of windows along its length. At Hardwick Hall, the house’s chimneys were aligned along the centerline of the house (to provide symmetry of the house), but such “long galleries” could also be heated by fireplaces located in the walls at the ends of the space. These long galleries were pure opulence: high back walls resplendent with tapestries and artwork opposing a rank of great windows gathering sunshine and looking out over fabulous Elizabethan gardens. Such spaces were perfect for entertaining and also served as a winter exercise space.

Floor plan of the upper floor of Hardwick Hall, Derbyshire (ca 1590 design)

Analysis of the chimney flues available at the front of the Crown and Treaty’s second floor is perfectly consistent with a long gallery with fireplaces at the ends. Along the back wall of this gallery lie the doorways into the private rooms on that floor (each with their own fireplaces). At least some of these rooms have connecting doorways allowing them to be used as shared, adjoined spaces.  The view from this long gallery must have been spectacular, looking out across the house’s large gardens and directly down High Street from a elevated vantage point. Perhaps it was more the point that the citizens of 1600s Uxbridge glancing up the street would find their view drawn to the distant face of this stylish mansion.

This was my first awakening that the building known as the Crown and Treaty wasn’t conceived as one of Uxbridge’s many inns–this house had been built to impress.

Armed with this new insight and an accounting of all of the fireplaces and windows, I created a set of speculative floor plans (see picture below).  Of course, there is room for some variation in the placement of interior staircases and interior spaces on the western end of this building. But I believe the durable design themes of this structure are:

  • the building itself was placed to dominate the view from downtown Uxbridge, and to make an impression on all the travelers of the High Road between London and Oxford.
  • the main floor contained some receiving/parlor spaces and a handful of private rooms. It also included significant utility (storage and kitchen) spaces located towards the western end of the building (nearest the octagonal storage annex)
  • the rooms on the second floor are slightly larger and better appointed than those on the main floor
  • the long gallery on the second floor may have a significantly vaulted ceiling.  I believe the rooms behind it do not.
  • I suspect the center room on the second floor (with the square section projecting through the back wall) was used as a library or study (taking advantage of the extra light from those windows, and allowing its occupant to observe activities in the grounds and liveries which almost certainly existed behind the mansion)
  • the attic space on the third floor is composed of larger spaces (and probably served as a bunkhouse-like living quarters for the live-in household staff)
  • the stairway for the existing building is located toward the western end of the building and probably allows access to all 3 floors.
Speculative interior model of the existing Crown and Treaty’s original floor plan

The Missing Part of the Original Treaty House

The front and rear of the existing structure appear to be original, so the rest of the original Treaty House must have adjoined one of its two existing ends. Although the end containing the octagonal storage structure has been most obviously modified, I found earlier drawings of the existing house in the 1800’s with large trees adjacent to that end of the house.  Assuming that very large trees generally require the better part of a century to reach such maturity, it suggests that no structure existed on that end of the house as early as the middle 1700s. But what of the obvious (and amateurish) repairs on that end of the building? They (along with the octagonal storage annex) could well be the result of the result of structural repairs and modifications made to the building through the centuries.

Thin accounts of the history of the house indicate that at some point, the center of the house was demolished to accommodate a rerouting of High Street. Looking at overhead imagery, it can be seen that the main street through town passes naturally past the easternmost end of the Crown and Treaty.  So, it seems quite reasonable to consider that the narrow end of the building facing onto the current street was originally an interior wall which adjoined the center of the original house.

This is an interesting fact to consider. Observe the overhead image below and notice how naturally the Oxford Road leads into the path of the original High Street (Uxbridge’s historic main street). Since the ancient 5-arch bridge across the Colne River (just beyond the left of this image) and the historic High Road through town are aligned, it means the original Treaty House sat directly in the way of this road. The only way this seems possible is if the road had been redirected to flow around the grounds of the Treaty House when the house was originally built! As fantastic as this conclusion may sound, in the next article I will present evidence that this was precisely the state of affairs early in the house’s history.

Overhead view of the Crown and Treaty showing how the roadbed of the Oxford Road and High Street pass naturally through the place where the center of the original Treaty House used to be.

Regarding the room where the treaty negotiations took place, accounts of the negotiations indicate this large room was located in the center of the house on the second floor. Given the density of fireplace flues on that end of the existing structure it seems clear there is no space in that part of the existing structure that could have accommodated the approximately 50 people (16 commissioners for each side plus support staff and attending VIPs) who would have been directly involved in the negotiations. Thus, it seems fairly certain the negotiation room was indeed in the adjacent part of the building (that no longer exists).

Mary, standing behind the easternmost end of the existing Crown and Treaty. The center of the original Treaty House (where the 1645 Treaty Negotiations took place) would have included the place she is standing. The actual negotiations room was one floor above the roadway just off her right shoulder.

The “Presence Chamber” Goes for a Visit to New York City

Modern historical summaries of the Treaty House describe that the second floor rooms were lined with a sumptuous carved paneling (as seen in the photographs below). One of the surviving rooms lined with this paneling is billed as the “presence chamber”, where the king might have conducted business while staying there. Although there is no record that the king actually stayed at the Crown and Treaty (recall that during the Civil War the Crown and Treaty was behind enemy lines), it is entirely possible the house was designed to facilitate such an occasion.

Shockingly, in the 1920s, this beautiful historic paneling was apparently removed by the building’s owner and sold to an American businessman to adorn a new office in New York City’s Empire State Building.  I cringed to think that someone could be so careless with such a historic feature, and more so when I read that it was an American who bought it. Thankfully, this story has a happy ending!

Apparently (30 years later), this elaborately carved paneling was removed from the Empire State Building and returned to Queen Elizabeth II as a coronation present. Although re-installed in the Crown and Treaty shortly thereafter, this paneling has been retained as the property of the Queen. This arrangement ensures this irreplaceable bit of Uxbridge’s heritage will never be so recklessly disposed of again. I can only imagine the fascinating restrictions regarding stewardship of this paneling that must be written into the agreements for anyone owning this building. In the end, I breathed a sigh of gratitude for the class the American owner exhibited in ensuring this minor treasure made its way back to Uxbridge where it belongs.

Of course, I couldn’t help wondering: could my model help me work out which of the existing upstairs rooms might be the “presence chamber”?  I decided to give it a try.

Looking carefully at the photograph of this room (on the right, above), I noted a sharply defined shadow on the floor made by the visible leg of the side table on the right of the scene. That sort of shadow would be consistent with sunlight through an open door in an otherwise closed room (i.e. no other windows). Ray tracing of that shadow implies a doorway roughly in the center of the wall opposite the fireplace. The sharpness of this shadow also implies a brightly sunlit window situated a fair distance beyond that doorway. Noting the offset fireplace location and the rough dimensions of that end of the room, I checked my model to see if any of the second floor rooms seemed to uniquely match it.  And one did!

The key was that I was independently able to locate a drawing of the room at the easternmost end of the second floor that confirmed my model’s estimate of that room’s fireplace placement. Assuming the other fireplace offsets are similarly correct, there is only one room on my model of the second floor that is consistent with the lighting, room dimension and fireplace offset seen in the presence chamber photograph. That room lies in front of the westernmost chimney set (as shown in the figure below). It would be interesting to find out someday how close this prediction was to being correct!

Speculative location of the Presence Chamber in the existing Crown and Treaty

If this room really had been intended to be a presence chamber, it might explain what seems to be a large space adjacent to it. If this space had been a VIP accommodation (as I’ve assumed in my model), it would have provided a generous bedchamber with four windows and two fireplaces. In this configuration, it would have had its own stairwell access with a small room toward the front of the house where members of the king’s guard could have been quartered just outside his room. Of course, given the options of space and fireplace placement, this end of the house could easily have been in a different configuration to serve alternate design goals.

In my next article, I extend this research to provide an unprecedented reconstruction of the entire original Treaty House (including a detailed model of the negotiations room) as it existed during the 1645 peace negotiations!

—-—

Your comments and corrections are always appreciated. I admire great writing, but have little choice but to approach this task as one of grinding a workable edge onto a rough blade – with my thanks for your generosity of spirit and firm critique in the meantime! 

-Greg Sherwood

The Backhanded but Exhilarating Power of Mortality

Life is short. Whatever you’re going to do, either get on with it or be ready to accept that perhaps you never will.

The backhanded power of mortality is the focus it gives you. When you’ve only got so many breaths to take, it becomes far more important how you spend them.  For most of my life, I’ve felt the presence of a rocking chair somewhere in my future–waiting for me. When I get to the point where the best I can do is collapse into it and enjoy the company of those I’ve shared my time with, I don’t want to look back and wish I’d been bolder about how I’ve lived my life. 

Although its been months since I’ve published an article, it definitely wasn’t because I ran out of material! In fact, there are several articles that have been sitting nearly complete for months. What’s occupied my time is making an important “gut check” about my commitment to a personal matra that’s been growing in importance in my thoughts:

Life is short. Whatever you’re going to do, either get on with it or be ready to accept that perhaps you never will.

So, I’ve decided its time to get on with it. 

For the last three months, I’ve been busy rewriting the trajectory of my life. My houseful of possessions has been cut down by much more than half. And the house?  Someone new owns it and lives there now. I’ve subsequently paid off all my bills. I’ve changed to a new job.  And the woman I’ve ridden across the state of Iowa with, and ridden through the 5 boroughs of New York City with, and climbed two of Colorado’s 14,000+ foot high mountains with this year? Last weekend, I asked her to marry me (and, for a surprisingly small bribe, she even agreed!).

Mary and I atop Torrey’s Peak, one of Colorado’s 14,000+ foot high mountains.

But that’s only where it starts. I am saving all I can now, because I have decided to find a way to retire in the not-too-distant future, and do some things I yearn to do while I’m still physically able.

In short, we are trading our housefuls of stuff (and the houses) for the chance to see the world from the seat of a bicycle and from the working end of trekking poles. Although we are still about two years from actually boarding the plane, we are preparing to largely uproot ourselves and live overseas for as much as five years.  It takes my breath away to think of it.

This conversation began with how we might be able live in England long enough to finish the research necessary to complete my book on the “Lost Lord Keeper”. Although my last trip to the UK was wonderful, I was jet lagged half the time, and there was a surprisingly long list of things that simply couldn’t be packed into a two week visit.  To get this done is really going to require living there.

It was a chilly day of drizzle when we visited the Church of St. Peter and St. Paul in Courteenhall, England (Sir Richard Lane’s boyhood home, and home to the tomb of his parents)

So we sorted out what it would take, and the changes we’d have to make to pull it off. It required some sobering sacrifices…but it was doable. Once we got our heads around that much, we realized there was no reason to stop there.  Once we could accept being uprooted for awhile, why not live for a season or two in all the interesting places we’ve longed to see? If we are able to find affordable but well connected places in which to make a temporary home, we could make day trips to all the nearby places we’d love to spend time in. What would it be like if we were able to live in each place long enough to really explore, to make friends, to learn some local cooking, to find some great local pubs, and to learn some basic fluency in the language? While there, we could bike and hike our way to countless quiet places we could only rush past any other way.

Map of key sites of interest in the Richard Lane story in southern England, Jersey and France.

Our initial plans for a post-England “world tour” will likely include successive months-long stays in Czechoslovakia, France, Spain, Italy, Thailand, Australia, Paraguay and Panama. While in each of these places, we hope to make many short trips to visit all around each region. All the while, I can write from wherever I am, and especially if we are still in Western Europe, it would be easy enough to “pop over” to the UK should I need to follow up on research (or visit friends). Who knows, I might even find my next research project somewhere along the way…

The hard part about this plan is being away from places we know as home, and those we love. Thankfully, we live in a time in which technology has made it easier than ever to remain in meaningful touch with those you care about while you are away from them.  But we also plan to fly home for a couple of months at least once a year so we can spend real time with the friends and family we have been blessed with.

And this is where a really intriguing possibility occurred to us: while we are overseas, why not invite our friends and family to come spend time with us? All we have to do is rent a flat with an extra bedroom and (with a little coordination) we can host them and share the magic of wherever we are with them too—with their housing, meals and transportation taken care of.

And at the end of it all, when we finally return home?  We will absolutely invite our new overseas friends to come stay with us in America. How fun would it be to repay hospitality by sharing the magic of Colorado with friends who might never see it any other way?

Basic means aside, all of this only requires that we be willing to live more simply, and to travel light.

No doubt, there will be challenges. But I have a great partner and cohort to solve them with. And, if we are somehow able to do (and share) all this, we might just giggle ourselves to sleep in those rocking chairs!

So, with apologies about being “offline” for so long, please stay tuned! I’m settled into my new job. The heavy lifting of selling my house and moving is over. All of my research materials have finally been found and unpacked.  Shortly, I will be back into my writing rhythm again!

So what’s next? 

Up next is an entirely new topic—an interesting set of articles looking into Richard Lane’s experiences as one of the King’s Commissioners in the 1645 Peace Treaty Negotiations at the “Crown and Treaty” in Uxbridge. If you google “Crown and Treaty Uxbridge” you will find Wikipedia has a good overview article about this beautiful venue and the peace negotiations that were held there nearly 400 years ago.

The 500-year-old Crown and Treaty, Uxbridge. Photo credit Wikipedia.

I’m looking forward to local reactions in Uxbridge regarding the novel reconstruction I’ve done of this historic site. Drawing on various bits of historical evidence and the timeless practicalities of civil design, I’ve managed a reconstruction includes not only the structure of the original building and its long vanished grounds, but also a significant portion of its original interior. Included in this reconstruction is the very room that was once packed with the “commissioners” as they tried desperately to find a way to stop the Civil War (spoiler alert: Unfortunately, I’ve determined this room no longer exists).  This was a challenge…although I’ve visited the Crown and Treaty, it was between owners and locked up at the time. I’ve never been inside…

Note: I just noticed that the Crown and Treaty has recently been re-opened (and looks wonderful–can’t wait to have dinner there someday!). There are now lots of interior pictures which were not available when I did my reconstruction. It will be fun to match them up with my model to see how I did working in the blind!