The Beaufort Portcullis

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The Beaufort Portcullis

As the Palace of Westminster is likely to close for a substantial refurb it is a good moment at look back at its origins and Caroline Shenton has done just that in The Day Parliament Burned Down and Mr Barry’s War.

The fire happened in 1834 and was witnessed by local architect, Charles Barry. There was a competition and ninety-seven entrants for a new parliament building. (Incidentally, the St Pancras hotel has often been cited by me as being the design that came second and as so often I am completely wrong. I don’t think Gilbert Scott submitted an entry.)

To make the competition fair each entrant put a symbol or rebus on their entry and no other mark of identification. They put their name in a sealed envelope with the rebus on the outside, only to be opened in the case of the winning entry. Barry chose a portcullis as the logo for his entry. He was inspired by the heraldic badge of the Beauforts, adopted by Henry VII son of Lady Margaret Beaufort.

by John Prescott Knight, oil on canvas, circa 1851
Charles Barry by John Prescott Knight, oil on canvas, circa 1851 (c) National Portrait Gallery, London

Barry, working with Pugin on the interior and stonemason, John Thomas, on the exterior carving, has used the portcullis motif decoratively throughout the Palace of Westminster.  Portcullis House was chosen as the name of a newish, it opened in 2001, office block for politicians and their staff. This is particularly apt as it is built on the site of Charles Barry’s childhood home.

To read about the struggle he had creating his building you must read Caroline Shenton’s books. Suffice to say that it took twenty-five years, cost three times its budget and there were formidable engineering issues building on sand beside the Thames.

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2 comments

  1. Thanks for that. I didn’t know about the Beaufort Portcullis. For some reason, perhaps lurking in my pubescent passion for Anya Seton’s book, “Katherine”, about Margaret Beaufort’s grandmother (Swynford) and John of Gaunt, her grandfather, I have always nurtured a wholly false sense of familiarity with that whole tribe. I should perhaps worry that I see them all in an absurdly partisan romantic haze.

    Margaret Beaufort was – what; interesting, touching, exciting? – for her piety, philanthropy, pivotal role, political nous, doggedness. Even seen prosaically, she was one of the great medieval women in a long list of those who built our world without putting on armour.

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