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Title: Memorials of old Derbyshire
Author: Cox, J. Charles (John Charles)
Language: English
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DERBYSHIRE ***
Memorials of the Counties of England
General Editor: Rev. P. H. Ditchfield, M.A., F.S.A.
Memorials
OF
Old Derbyshire
[Illustration: Haddon Hall: “Dorothy Vernon’s Bridge.”
_From a water-colour sketch by Mr. Frank E. Beresford._]
MEMORIALS
OF
OLD DERBYSHIRE
EDITED BY
Rev. J. CHARLES COX, LL.D., F.S.A.
Author of
“_Churches of Derbyshire_” (4 vols.),
“_Three Centuries of Derbyshire Annals_” (2 vols.),
“_How to write the History of a Parish_,”
“_Royal Forests of England_,”
“_English Church Furniture_,” _etc., etc._
Editor of “_The Reliquary_”
With many Illustrations
[Illustration]
LONDON
Bemrose and Sons Limited, 4 Snow Hill, E.C.
AND DERBY
1907
[_All Rights Reserved_]
TO
THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
SPENCER COMPTON CAVENDISH,
K.G., F.R.S., D.C.L., LL.D.,
EIGHTH DUKE OF DEVONSHIRE,
CHANCELLOR OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE,
AND LORD-LIEUTENANT OF DERBYSHIRE,
THESE MEMORIALS ARE,
BY KIND PERMISSION,
INSCRIBED
PREFACE
It has been a great pleasure to accept the request of the General
Editor of this Memorial Series to edit a volume on my native county of
Derby. In proportion to its size and population, more has been written
and printed on Derbyshire than on any other English county. But in
these days, when, year by year, the national stores of information in
Chancery Lane are becoming better arranged and more fully calendared,
when there is more generous access to muniments in private possession,
and when the spirit of critical archæology is becoming more and more
systematised, there is no sign whatever that the history of the county
is in any way near exhaustion. Nor will that be the case even when the
four great volumes of the _Victoria County History_ are completed.
So abundant are the historical records of Derbyshire, and so rich
are the archæological remains, that there would be no difficulty,
I think, in the speedy production of a companion volume to this of
equal interest and of as much originality, should the General Editor
and the publishers desire such a sequel. I say this as an apology for
omissions of which I am fully conscious; and, as it is, the publishers
have kindly allowed the present pages to exceed in number those of any
other volume of the series.
There is one sad subject in connection with the production of this
work—I allude to the death of that distinguished antiquary, the late
Earl of Liverpool. Many years ago, in the “seventies” of last century,
it was owing to his suggestion and friendly encouragement that I
first undertook and persevered in the attempt to write on all the old
churches of Derbyshire; and when he was known as Mr. Cecil Foljambe,
we often visited together such churches as Tideswell, Bakewell, and
Chesterfield. Immediately the idea of this volume had been formed, I
wrote to Lord Liverpool, and at once received his cordial assent to
prepare an article on the Foljambe monuments of the county. In the
course of his letter he wrote:—“I accept your proposal all the more
willingly as I have recently unearthed certain strong confirmatory
evidence as to the two Tideswell effigies, claimed of late years to
belong to the De Bower family, and rashly lettered, being in reality
Foljambes” (see p. 103). We exchanged several letters on the subject,
then his health began to fail, and he begged me to undertake the work,
promising to revise it carefully and to give additional matter; but,
alas! death intervened before even this could be accomplished.
All the articles between these covers have been specially written,
and for the most part specially illustrated for the book, with one
exception, namely, the delightfully vivid chapter by Sir George R.
Sitwell, on the country life of a Derbyshire squire of the seventeenth
century. To almost all the readers of the book, this essay will also be
entirely novel. It is reproduced, in a somewhat abbreviated form, by
the writer’s kind and ready permission, from the introductory chapter
to Sir George Sitwell’s privately issued _Letters of the Sitwells and
Sacheverells_, of which only twenty-five copies were printed.
My most grateful thanks are due to each of the contributors for their
valuable papers, as well as to those who have supplied photographs,
or who have loaned prints or drawings. It would be invidious for
me to particularize where there has been so much ready kindness in
contributing the elements of this _Olla Podrida_.
In arranging this book, it may be well to state that no effort whatever
has been made to produce a kind of history of the shire _inpetto_,
which would, in my opinion, be a great mistake in a work of this
character and intention. Each essay stands by itself; all that I have
done, in addition to my own contributions, is to arrange them in a kind
of rough chronological order.
J. Charles Cox.
_Longton Avenue,
Sydenham,
November, 1907._
CONTENTS
Page
Historic Derbyshire By Rev. J. Charles
Cox, LL.D., F.S.A. 1
Prehistoric Burials By John Ward, F.S.A. 39
Prehistoric Stone Circles By W. F. Andrew, F.S.A. 70
Swarkeston Bridge By W. Smithard 89
Derbyshire Monuments to the By Rev. J. Charles
Family of Foljambe Cox, LL.D., F.S.A. 97
Repton: Its Abbey, Church, By Rev. F. C. Hipkins,
Priory and School M.A., F.S.A. 114
The Old Homes of the County By J. A. Gotch, F.S.A. 133
Wingfield Manor House in Peace
and War By G. Le Blanc-Smith 146
Bradshaw and the Bradshawes By C. E. B. Bowles, M.A. 164
Offerton Hall By S. O. Addy, M.A. 192
Roods, Screens and Lofts in
Derbyshire Churches By Aymer Vallance, F.S.A. 200
Plans of the Peak Forest By Rev. J. Charles
Cox, LL.D., F.S.A. 281
Old Country Life in the By Sir George R. Sitwell,
Seventeenth Century Bart., F.S.A. 307
Derbyshire Folk-Lore By S. O. Addy, M.A. 346
Jedediah Strutt By the Hon. F. Strutt 371
Index 385
PLATE ILLUSTRATIONS
Haddon Hall: “Dorothy Vernon’s Bridge” _Frontispiece_
(_From a water-colour Sketch by Mr. Frank E. Beresford_)
Facing Page
Melbourne Castle 14
(_Survey, temp. Elizabeth_)
Wingfield Manor 20
(_From a Drawing by Colonel Machell_, 1785)
Revolution House at Whittington 32
(_From “Gentleman’s Magazine,”_ 1810)
Plan and Section of Chambered Tumulus, Five Wells, Derbyshire 42
(_From Drawings by John Ward_)
East Chamber at Five Wells. View from the North-East 44
(_From a Sketch by John Ward_)
Plans of “Chambers” at Harborough Rocks and Mininglow, Derbyshire 46
(_From Drawings by John Ward_)
Section of Barrow at Flaxdale, near Youlgreave 50
(_From wood-cut by Llewellynn Jewitt_)
Section of Barrow at Grinlow, near Buxton 50
Plan of Burial at Thirkelow, near Buxton 50
(_From Drawings by John Ward_)
Dolichocephalic Skull from “Chamber” at Harborough Rocks.
Side and Top Views 52
(_From Drawings by John Ward_)
Brachycephalic Skull from Grinlow. Side and Top Views 54
(_From Drawings by John Ward_)
Typical Examples of Bronze Age Burial Vessels, Derbyshire 56
(_From Drawings by John Ward_)
Typical Examples of Bronze Age Burial Vessels, Derbyshire 58
(_From Drawings by John Ward_)
Arbor Low: General View of the Southern Half 70
(_From a Photograph in possession of the Derbyshire
Archæological Society_)
Arbor Low: General View of the Southern and Western Part 80
(_From an Original lent by the Derbyshire Archæological Society_)
Swarkeston Bridge 90
(_From a Photograph by Frank W. Smithard_)
Tideswell Church: The Chancel 102
(_From a Photograph by F. Chapman, Tideswell_)
Bakewell Church: Foljambe Monument 106
(_From a Photograph by Guy Le Blanc-Smith_)
Tomb of Henry Foljambe, 1510, and Kneeling Figure of Sir
Thomas Foljambe, 1604; Tomb of Godfrey Foljambe, 1594 108
(_From Originals_ (1839) _lent by Mr. Jaques_)
Chesterfield Church: Foljambe Chapel 110
(_From a Photograph by J. H. Gaunt, Chesterfield_)
Repton: Parish Church and Priory Gateway 114
(_From a Photograph by Rev. F. C. Hipkins_)
Repton Church: Saxon Crypt 118
(_From a Photograph by Rev. F. C. Hipkins_)
Repton: The Priory Gateway and School 124
(_From a Photograph lent by Rev. F. C. Hipkins_)
The Castle of the Peak 134
(_From a Photograph by R. Keene & Co._)
Bolsover Castle: “La Gallerie” 136
(_From Sir W. Cavendish’s “Treatise on Horsemanship”_)
Haddon Hall (North View, 1812) 138
Haddon Hall (North View, _circa_ 1825) 140
Snitterton Hall 142
(_From a Photograph by R. Keene & Co._)
North Lees Hall; Foremark Hall (Garden Front) 144
(_From Photographs by J. A. Gotch, F.S.A._)
The Tower, and Rooms occupied by Mary Stuart, Wingfield 146
(_From a Photograph by Guy Le Blanc-Smith_)
The Porch of Banqueting Hall, Wingfield 152
(_From a Photograph by Guy Le Blanc-Smith_)
The Window in the Banqueting Hall, Wingfield 156
(_From a Photograph by Guy Le Blanc-Smith_)
The Undercroft, Wingfield 162
(_From a Photograph by Guy Le Blanc-Smith_)
Bradshawe Hall 164
(_From a Photograph by C. E. B. Bowles_)
John Bradshawe, Serjeant-at-Law 174
(_From an Original lent by C. E. B. Bowles_)
Duffield Church: Monument of Anthony Bradshawe 178
(_From a Photograph by R. Keene & Co._)
Bradshawe Hall: Detail of Gateway 188
(_From a Photograph by C. E. B. Bowles_)
Offerton Hall (Front and Back Views) 192
(_From Photographs by S. O. Addy, M.A._)
Fenny Bentley Church: Rood-Screen 200
(_From a Photograph by Aymer Vallance_)
Chaddesden Church: Detail of Rood-Screen from the Chancel 206
(_From a Sketch by Aymer Vallance_)
Elvaston Church: Parclose Screen in the South Aisle 210
(_From a Photograph by Aymer Vallance_)
Ilkeston Church: Stone Rood-Screen, from the Chancel 212
(_From a Photograph by Aymer Vallance_)
Chelmorton Church: Southern Half of Stone Rood-Screen 214
Darley Dale Church: Detail of Stone Parclose 214
(_From Sketches by J. Charles Wall_)
Elvaston Church: Detail of Rood-Screen 220
(_From a Photograph by Aymer Vallance_)
Chesterfield Church: Detail of Screen in the North Transept,
formerly the Rood-Screen 222
(_From a Photograph by Aymer Vallance_)
Wingerworth Church: Base of the Rood-Loft 228
(_From a Photograph by Aymer Vallance_)
Ashbourne Church: Door leading to the Rood-Stair 234
(_From a Photograph by Aymer Vallance_)
Ashover Church: Rood-Screen 252
(_From a Photograph by Aymer Vallance_)
Breadsall Church: Detail of Rood-Screen in process of
Restoration 256
Breadsall Church: Showing the Remains of the Rood-Screen
in 1856 256
(_From Photographs by Aymer Vallance_)
Chesterfield Church: Part of Parclose Screen in South Transept 260
(_From a Sketch by J. Charles Wall_)
Elvaston Church: Rood-Screen (restored) 264
(_From a Photograph by Aymer Vallance_)
Kirk Langley Church: Detail from Parcloses of North and
South Aisles 270
(_From a Photograph by Aymer Vallance_)
The Keep: Peverel Castle 362
Little Hucklow: Folk Collector’s Summer House 362
(_From Photographs by S. O. Addy, M.A._)
Apprenticeship Indenture of Jedediah Strutt, 1740 372
(_From the Original lent by Hon. F. Strutt_)
Jedediah Strutt 382
(_From Original Painting by Joseph Wright, c._ 1785)
ILLUSTRATIONS IN TEXT
Page
Norbury Church: Stall End attached to Jamb of Rood-Screen 206
(_From a Sketch by Aymer Vallance_)
Kirk Langley Church: Detail of former Rood-Screen in Oak 217
(_From a Sketch by Aymer Vallance_)
Brackenfield: Detail of Oak Rood-Screen 255
(_From a Sketch by Aymer Vallance_)
Plans of the Peak Forest:—
Nos. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 283–291
” 10, 11, 12 293–295
” 13, 14 298
No. 15 300
” 16 302
” 17 305
(_Nos. 15 and 16 Drawings by M. E. Purser; remainder by
V. M. Machell Cox._)
Country Gentlemen on the London Road 311
(_From Loggan’s “Oxford,” 1675_)
Arrival of a Guest at a Country House 318
(_From “Le Nouveau Theatre de la Grande Bretagne,” 1724_)
A Ball at an Assembly Room 320
(_From a Broadsheet, c. 1700_)
Stag-Hunting 329
(_From Chauncy’s “Hertfordshire,” 1700_)
Acquaintances meeting in London 336
(_From “Le Nouveau Theatre de la Grande Bretagne,” 1724_)
Guest arriving on Horseback 341
(_From “Le Nouveau Theatre de la Grande Bretagne,” 1724_)
A Gentleman and his Servant on the Road 345
(_From Loggan’s “Oxford,” 1675_)
HISTORIC DERBYSHIRE
By Rev. J. Charles Cox, LL.D., F.S.A.
After making due allowance for a natural prejudice in favour of the
county of one’s birth and early associations, it may, I think, be
reasonably maintained that the comparatively small shire of Derby not
only contains within its limits most exceptionally wild, beautiful
and varied scenery, but that its social and political history is
exceedingly diversified and full of interest. In all, too, that
pertains to almost every branch of archæology, Derbyshire is well able
to hold its own with any other county that could be named.
The proofs of the residence of early man in the district are afforded
by the considerable variety of remains that have been discovered in the
bone caves of the High Peak near Buxton, in those of the high lands
above Wirksworth, and more especially in the Creswell caves on the
verge of Nottinghamshire. In Grant Allen’s remarkable and generally
accurate book on the beginnings of county history throughout England,
a singular blunder is made with regard to Derbyshire; it is there
stated that this county “was almost uninhabited until long after the
English settlement of Britain, with the solitary exception of a few
isolated Roman stations.” Archæology, however, puts such a statement
as this to complete rout. Difficult as it is to understand how such
large bands of savage men were able to maintain themselves in so wild
a district, it is the fact that the Peak of Derbyshire was, so to
speak, thickly populated by prehistoric tribes. A glance at the map
of prehistoric remains, given in the first volume of the _Victoria
History of the County of Derby_, to illustrate Mr. Ward’s article, will
at once show that the whole of that part of North Derbyshire which
extends from Ashbourne to Chapel-en-le-Frith on the west, from thence
to Derwent Chapel on the north, and then southward through Hathersage
and Winster back again to Ashbourne, is peppered all over with the red
symbols that betoken the barrows or lows which were the burial places
of our forefathers during the neolithic and subsequent ages. Round
Stanton-in-the-Peak and Hathersage the barrows, circles and other early
remains occur with such frequency that it is difficult to mark even
small dots on the map without them running into each other.
When the Romans held Derbyshire they had five chief stations in the
county, namely, at Little Chester, near Derby; at Brough, near Hope;
at Buxton; at Melandra Castle, on the verge of Cheshire; and near
Wirksworth. The chief Roman road, termed Ryknield Street, entered
the county at Monksbridge, between Repton and Egginton; crossing the
Derwent by Derby to Little Chester, the road proceeded to Chesterfield,
and thence into Yorkshire. Another road crossed the south of the
county, entering Derbyshire on the east near Sawley, and passing
through Little Chester to Rocester, in Staffordshire. A whole group of
other roads radiated throughout the Peak from Buxton as a centre.
Doubtless one of the chief reasons why the Romans were so determined
to occupy, after a military fashion, the north of the county was
because of the lead mining which they so actively pursued. The chief
district of this lead mining extended between Wirksworth on the south
and Castleton on the north. Between these two places groups of disused
mines appear with frequency. Most of those that have been closely
examined yield obvious traces of having been worked by our conquerors.
Six pigs of inscribed Roman lead have been found in the county. One
of them bears the name of Hadrian (A.D. 117–138). The probabilities,
however, are strong that the Roman miners were at work in this county
half a century earlier, for there is evidence of lead working in
western Yorkshire in A.D. 81, and it is most unlikely that mining began
in that part of Yorkshire before Derbyshire had been touched.
It is scarcely possible to exaggerate the interest and importance
pertaining to Dr. Haverfield’s article on Romano-British Derbyshire, as
set forth in the first volume of the _Victoria History_ of the county.
When the Romans left this county at the dawn of the fifth century,
the first English or Saxon settlement speedily followed. The north
of Derbyshire formed the southern extremity of that long range of
broken primary hills—termed the Pennine Chain—which extended from the
Cheviots down to the district long known as Peakland or the Peak. As
the Romans withdrew, Peakland seems to have been overrun by hordes of
the Picts; but when the pagan English settled in Northumbria a new
element of strife was introduced which affected the line of Pennine
Hills from end to end. This range became a boundary between two hostile
races dissimilar in habits, tongue and creed. The older British race,
Christianized to a considerable extent, took up their position on the
western side, and also held their own in certain parts of the actual
dividing ridge.
It seems likely that the Peakland, for about 150 years after the first
coming of the English—and possibly other parts to the east and south
afterwards known under the common name of Derbyshire—was retained by
the Celts, or Welsh, after the same fashion as they undoubtedly held
the districts round the modern town of Leeds.
With the opening of the seventh century substantial historic data
begin. Ethelfrith, the last pagan king of Northumbria, crossed the
southern end of the Pennine Chain in 603, and by a notable victory at
Chester extended, as Bede tells us, the dominions of the English to
the Mersey and the Dee. The actual conquest of Peakland probably soon
followed. Mr. Grant Allen’s supposition that it was never actually
overrun by a military force, but that the scanty numbers of the Welsh
were by degrees absorbed into the surrounding English population,
may, however, be the true explanation. The general story of English
place-names shows that the majority of our hill and river names are
earlier than the English occupation; but in North Derbyshire there is
not a single river or hill that does not bear a Welsh name, whilst not
a few of the homestead names have a like origin, and even words of
Cymric etymology still linger in the fast disappearing dialect.
It is of interest to remember that those Mercians who settled from time
to time in small groups throughout the wilder parts of Derbyshire bore
the local name of Pecsaete, that is to say, settlers in the Peak; so
that the future county, as Mr. Allen remarks, narrowly escaped being
styled Pecsetshire, after the fashion of Dorsetshire or Somersetshire.
In the development and Christianising of the widespread Mercian
kingdom, South Derbyshire played a very considerable part. Repton, on
the banks of the Trent, is mentioned in the _Anglo-Saxon Chronicle_ in
the year 755 in the account of the slaying of Ethelbald, the Mercian
king. The same Chronicle also records the visit of the devastating
Danes to Repton in 874, when they made that town their winter quarters.
The founding of an abbey at Repton early in the seventh century, and
the same place becoming the first seat of the Mercian bishopric from
654 to 667, is dealt with in another part of this volume and need not
be named further in this sketch.
The Peak seems to have known of no widespread Saxon or English
settlement until after the eruption of the Danes. It is also to the
Danes that the town of Derby owes its present name, and the importance
which gave its title to the surrounding shire. When the marauding
Scandinavian bands overran the kingdoms of Northumbria and Mercia, the
value of the Derbyshire lead soon attracted their attention. Hence they
established themselves strongly and built a fort at Northworthy (the
earlier name for Derby), whence the valley of the Derwent branched
off in different directions to the lead-mining districts. It was the
common practice of the Danes to change the names of the places where
they settled; Northworthy was to them an unmeaning term now that
settlements of importance had been pushed on much further northward.
Deoraby, or the settlement near the deer, was clearly suggested by the
close propinquity of the great forests. There is no part of the county
where the place and field names are of greater interest than in the
Ecclesbourne valley, which leads up from Duffield to Wirksworth. The
intermingling of Norse names shows that at least two distinct streams
of colonists pushed their way to this valuable mining centre.
In the north-eastern portion of Mercia, five of these Scandinavian
hosts, each under its own earl, made a definite settlement; they became
known as the Five Burghs, and formed a kind of rude confederacy. In
this way Derby became linked in government with Nottingham, Stamford,
Lincoln and Leicester. This combination, however, had not long been
made before Ethelfleda, the Lady of the Mercians, the sister of Alfred
the Great, began to win back her dominions from these pagan Norsemen,
building border forts at Tamworth and Stafford. Derby was stormed by
Ethelfleda in 918, after fierce fighting, and this victory secured for
her for a time the shire as well as the town itself. Six years later
Edward the Elder, Ethelfleda’s brother, advanced against the Danes
through Nottingham, penetrating into Peakland as far as Bakewell, where
he built a fort. In 941–2 King Edmund finally freed the Five Burghs and
all Mercia from Danish rule.
The establishment of a mint at Derby during the reign of Athelstan
(924–940) is a clear evidence of the advance of civilisation. Coins
minted at Derby are also extant of the reigns of Edgar, Edward II.,
Ethelred II., Canute, Harold I., Edward the Confessor, and Harold II.
The division of Derbyshire among the conquering Normans, together with
the social conditions of the times, so far as they can be gathered from
the entries in the Domesday Survey, have been admirably treated of at
length in the recently issued opening volume of the _Victoria History_,
to which reference has already been made. The number of manors held
by the Conqueror in this county was very considerable. He derived his
Derbyshire possessions from three sources. In the first instance he
succeeded his predecessor, the Confessor, in a great group of manors
that stretched without a break across the county in a north-easterly
direction from Ashbourne to the Yorkshire borders near Sheffield. The
second division of the Kings’ land consisted of the forfeited estates
of Edwin, the late earl of the shire, and grandson of Earl Leofric of
Mercia. These lay in a widespread group along the Trent south of Derby,
and included Repton, so famous in earlier Mercian history. In the
north of the county the King also secured a very considerable number
of manors which had belonged to various holders, such as Eyam and
Stony Middleton, Chatsworth and Walton, and a considerable group round
Glossop.
There were two ecclesiastical tenants-in-chief in the county, namely,
the Bishop of the diocese, who held Sawley with Long Eaton, and the
manor of Bupton in Longford parish, and the Abbot of Burton-on-Trent,
who held the great manor of Mickleover and several others which nearly
adjoined the Abbey on the Derbyshire side.
By far the largest Derbyshire landholder was Henry de Ferrers, lord
of Longueville in Normandy, whose son in 1136 became the first Earl
of Derby. He held over ninety manors in this county, but the head of
his barony, where his chief castle was, lay just outside the border of
Derbyshire, at Tutbury. Just a few of the smaller landholders seem to
have been Englishmen, confirmed in their rights by the Conqueror. In
one case it can be definitely said that an Englishman not only held
land at the time of the survey, under Henry de Ferrers, but became
the ancestor of a family which continued for centuries to hold of
Ferrers’ successors. This was “Elfin,” who held Brailsford, Osmaston,
Lower Thurvaston, and part of Bupton. During the reigns of William
the Conqueror and his two sons, Rufus and Henry, genuine historical
particulars relative to the county are almost entirely absent. When
persistent civil war raged for so long a time over the greater part of
England during Stephen’s reign, Derbyshire was but little disturbed,
for the leading men of the county adhered loyally to the King and
held its several fortresses on his behalf. In the great Battle of the
Standard, fought against the Scots at Northallerton in 1138, Derbyshire
played the leading part in winning the victory; its chief credit being
due to the valour of the Peakites under Robert Ferrers. Ralph Alselin
and William Peveril, two other Derbyshire chieftains, were also among
the successful leaders of the battle.
Peak Castle, built by William Peveril in the days of the Conqueror,
passed to the Crown in 1115 on the forfeiture of his son’s estates. The
_Pipe Roll_ of 1157 shows an entry, repeated annually for a long term
of years, of a payment of four pound, ten shillings, and two watchmen,
and the porter of the Peak Castle. In that year Henry II. received
the submission of Malcolm, King of Scotland, within the walls of this
castle. There are records of other visits made to this castle by Henry
II. in 1158 and 1164.
In this reign a variety of interesting particulars relative to the
castles of Bolsover and the Peak can be gleaned from the _Pipe Rolls_,
particularly with regard to their provisioning, garrisoning and
repairing between 1172 and 1176, during the time of the rising of the
Barons. Richard I., at the beginning of his reign, gave the castles of
the Peak and Bolsover to his brother John, who succeeded to the throne
in 1199. In 1200, King John was at Derby and Bolsover in March, and at
Melbourne in November. This restless King’s visits to the county were
frequent throughout his reign, and included a sojourn at Horsley Castle
in 1209. During this turbulent reign Derbyshire was again fortunate
in escaping any material share of civil warfare. The party of the
Barons gained but little support, for the three notable fortresses of
Castleton, Bolsover and Horsley were held for the King with but slight
intermission.
In any historic survey of Derbyshire, however brief, it must
not be forgotten that the Normans, for the convenience of civil
administration, linked together this county and Nottinghamshire, giving
precedence in some respects to the latter. The Assizes, for instance,
up to the reign of Henry III., were held only at Nottingham, and the
one county gaol for the two shires was in the same town. From the
beginning of the reign of Henry III. up to the time of Elizabeth, the
Assizes were held alternately at the two county towns. During the whole
of this period there was but one sheriff for the two shires; it was not
until 1566 that they each possessed a sheriff of their own.
Derbyshire possessed a fourth great fortress, which has generally been
overlooked; it does not appear on the _Pipe Rolls_, as it was never
held by the Crown. Duffield was a convenient centre for the great
Derbyshire possessions of Henry de Ferrers. The castle at this place
stood on an eminence commanding an important ford of the Derwent, at
the entrance of the valley that led to Wirksworth with its lead mines,
and hence forwards to the High Peak. Here was erected in early Norman
days (as we know from the long-buried remains) a prodigiously strong
and massive keep. William, Earl Ferrers, was a stalwart supporter of
Henry III. until his death, but his grandson, Robert de Ferrers, soon
after he came of age, in 1260, threw himself with ardour into the
baronial war against the King. Eventually he was overcome when fighting
with his allies at Chesterfield in 1266. Ferrers was taken prisoner,
and his life spared; but all his lands, castles, and tenements were
confiscated to the crown, and conveyed by Henry to his son Edmund, who
was afterwards created Earl of Lancaster. It would be at this period
that Duffield Castle was demolished.
The foundations of this castle were accidentally discovered in 1886.
The lower part of the walls of a great rectangular keep, 95 feet by 93
feet, were brought to light, the walls averaging 16 feet in thickness.
These measurements show that Duffield Castle far exceeded in magnitude
any other Norman keep, with the single exception of the Tower of London.
Before taking the next step in this sketch of the political history of
the county, it will be well to go back a little in the account of the
great Derbyshire family of Ferrers, with special reference to their
connection with the Peak Forest. William de Ferrers, the fourth Earl
of Derby, was bailiff of the Honour of the Peak from 1216 to 1222. It
was charged against him that during that time he had in conjunction
with others taken upwards of 2,000 head of deer without warrant. At
the Forest Pleas held in 1251, five years after the Earl’s death,
formal presentments as to these offences were made, when Richard
Curzon was fined the then great sum of £40 as one of the late Earl’s
accomplices, and other county gentlemen in smaller amounts. But much
more serious matters occurred in the wild region of the Peak later
on in the reign of Henry III., when the transgressor was Robert de
Ferrers, the grandson of the Earl just mentioned. The Pleas of the
Forest were generally held at long and somewhat fitful intervals. It
was not until September, 1285, that these pleas were again held at
Derby, when all the offences committed during the thirty-four years
that had passed since the last eyre were presented by the forest
officials. By far the gravest charge at this eyre was that made
against the last Earl of Derby (of the first creation), who died in
1278. It was charged against Robert de Ferrers that on three separate
occasions, in July, August and September, 1264, he had hunted in the
forest, with a great company of knights and others, and had on these
occasions taken 130 head of red deer, and had driven a still greater
number far away. These illicit hunting affrays were evidently made on
a great scale, for thirty-eight persons are named in the presentment,
and there were many others, besides the Earl himself, who were dead
before the eyre was held. Others, too, were not summoned because they
were mere servants of the Earl. Eight out of the thirty-eight were
knights, and it is not a little remarkable that hardly any of those who
joined in the forest affrays were of Derbyshire families; they came
from such counties as Warwick, Leicestershire, Lancashire, Yorkshire,
Cambridgeshire, etc. Reading between the lines, though it is not
mentioned in the presentments—the originals of which can be studied at
the Public Record Office—it becomes clear that these incursions into a
royal forest must have been animated by something deeper than a love
for wholesale poaching. In May, 1264, the battle of Lewes was fought,
when the King’s forces were defeated by those of the barons. For two
or three years from that date, as an old chronicler has it, “there was
grievous perturbation in the centre of the realm,” in which Derbyshire
must have pre-eminently shared, for the youthful Earl Robert was one of
the hottest partisans of the barons. There can be no reasonable doubt
that these three raids on the Peak Forest in the months immediately
following the battle of Lewes, were undertaken by Robert de Ferrers and
his allies, issuing probably from his great manor house at Hartington,
much more to show contempt for the King’s forest and preserves, and to
get booty and food for his men-at-arms, than for any purposes of sport.
It is interesting to note that in April, 1264, Henry III. came into
Derbyshire, and lodged for a time at the castle of the Peak after the
subjection of Nottingham.
Definite Parliamentary rule began in England under Edward I. No
Derbyshire writs are extant for the Parliaments of 1283, 1290 or 1294.
The first Parliamentary return extant for Derbyshire names Henry de
Kniveton and Giles de Meynell as summoned to attend the Parliament
at Westminster in November, 1295. The county representatives in 1297
were Robert Dethick and Thomas Foljambe; in 1298, Henry de Brailsford
and Henry Fitzherbert, and in 1299 Jeffrey de Gresley and Robert de
Frecheville. John de la Cornere and Ralph de Makeney represented the
borough of Derby in 1295. The maintenance of the knights of the shire
when attending Parliament, as well as their travelling expenses, were
paid by the county. The scale of payment per day in the fourteenth
century varied from 3s. 4d. to 5s., whilst the payment of the borough
members varied from 20d. to 2s. a day.
Soon after the accession of Edward I., inquiries were made into
the various abuses that had arisen during the latter part of the
turbulent reign of his predecessor. A considerable number of official
irregularities and illegalities were brought to light in this county,
including both the imprisoning and undue releasing from prison at the
Castle of the Peak.
Edward I. visited Derbyshire in 1275, tarrying both at Ashbourne and
Tideswell, when on his way to North Wales. In the subjugation of Wales,
various of the great landholders of Derbyshire, with their tenants,
took a prominent part; among them were William de Ferrers, William de
Bardolf, Henry de Grey, Edward Deincourt, John de Musard, and Nicholas
de Segrave.
Between 1290 and 1293 the King was frequently in the county, coming on
more than one occasion for sport amongst the fallow deer of Duffield
Frith, at the forest lodge of Ravensdale. Derbyshire was closely
concerned in the long dispute as to the succession to the Crown of
Scotland, of which Edward I. was made arbitrator in 1291. His decision
was in favour of John Balliol, who was most intimately connected with
this county. Balliol held for a time the custody of the Peak, with
the Honour of Peveril; he was lord of the manors of Hollington and
Creswell; and he had served as joint sheriff of the counties of Derby
and Nottingham from 1261 to 1264. All the leading men of Derbyshire
were engaged from time to time in the prolonged wars with Scotland
which resulted in the deposition of Balliol in 1296. This county had
its share in the discreditable honours that Edward II. showered on his
favourite, Piers Gaveston, for early in the reign he held the custody
of the High Peak. In 1322 the Scotch forces entered into alliance
with those of the rebel Earls of Lancaster and Hereford. After fierce
fighting at the bridge of Burton-on-Trent, the royalists crossed
the river by a ford and drove Lancaster’s forces before them into
Yorkshire. During the retreat Derbyshire suffered severely. The King,
with several of his ministers, tarried for a few days at Derby; from
thence he visited Codnor Castle, which was held by one of his ardent
supporters, Richard, Lord Grey. Edward II. also, on several different
occasions, sojourned at the lodge of Ravensdale, amid the beautiful
parks of Duffield Forest.
In the various wars of the reign of Edward III. Derbyshire was often
called upon to supply forces for the hastily raised armies of the
King. The number of men levied on several occasions in this county
were considerably in excess of its due proportion when compared with
neighbouring shires, either in acreage or population. This may, we
suppose, be taken as a compliment to the valour of the county, and it
is by no means improbable that the hardy lead miners of the north of
the county would furnish better men, and perhaps more capable archers,
than were to be found in purely agricultural districts. Early in 1333,
when the Scots were making great preparations for invasion, John de
Twyford and Nicholas de Longford were appointed Commissioners of Array
for Derbyshire, to call out and have in readiness for the field all men
between sixteen and sixty years of age. Soon afterwards they received
a definite warrant to send to the front five hundred archers and two
hundred light horsemen from within the county. Derbyshire archers to
the number of six hundred set forth for Scotland in 1344, and there
were frequent levies of them during this reign to proceed to France.
Derbyshire, however, considering the fame of its archers and the
fighting-men of the Peak, took but a small part in the French campaign
of 1346–7, which resulted in the crowning triumph of Crecy and the fall
of Calais. The reason for this was that only those counties that were
_citra Trent_ received summonses to take part in the French expedition;
the forces of Derbyshire, Yorkshire, and other northern counties
were kept at home for fear of aggression from Scotland. There were,
however, a sprinkling of Derbyshire men in the ranks of the English at
Crecy, including Sir John Curzon, Nicholas de Longford, and Anker de
Frecheville.
The wide-spread revolt of the peasantry was the great feature of the
reign of Richard II.; but Derbyshire, together with most of the west
midlands, remained unaffected by these serious disturbances, in which
the miners, at all events, had no inclination to take part.
Henry IV. was not unfrequently in Derbyshire in connection with the
rebellious movements of that much-troubled reign. In the summer
of 1402 the King tarried for some little time at the small town of
Tideswell in a secluded district of the Peak, issuing from thence a
variety of orders to sheriffs and other officials as to the military
preparations against the Welsh. When sojourning about the same time at
the royal hunting lodge at Ravensdale, he dispatched thence orders for
hastening resistance against serious Scotch invasion.
In the following year, when the Percys and their followers suddenly
raised the standard of revolt, the King hastened to Derby with all the
forces he could gather. After waiting there a few days to rally the
musters, he proceeded through Burton-on-Trent to Shrewsbury, where a
terrible battle was fought on July 20th. Early that morning, before
the fray began, Henry knighted several of the gallant esquires of
Derbyshire. Of these Sir Walter Blount, who bore the King’s standard,
Sir John Cokayne, and Sir Nicholas Longford were slain in the fight,
whilst Sir Thomas Wendesley died soon afterwards of the wounds he had
received. It is not a little interesting to note that the last three
of these Derbyshire knights, who held their honour for so brief a
period, have their effigies still extant in fair preservation in the
respective churches of Ashbourne, Longford, and Bakewell; the fourth,
Sir Walter Blount, was buried, in acordance with his will, at Newark.
Of the 4,500 men slain or grievously wounded on the King’s side in the
Battle of Shrewsbury, a large proportion must have been Derbyshire men.
It was, perhaps, out of compliment to this county that Henry, when the
fray was over, proceeded yet again to Derby before going north to York
to receive the Earl of Northumberland’s submission.
It was under Henry V. that the memorable Battle of Agincourt was fought
on October 25th, 1415. In this battle the county played a prominent
part. Richard, Lord Grey of Codnor, was at the head of a large
contingent of Derbyshire and Nottinghamshire retainers and tenants.
The list of horsemen under him begins with two Derbyshire knights—Sir
John Grey and Sir Edward Foljambe, and it also includes such well-known
county names as Cokayne, Strelley, FitzHerbert, and Curzon. Another
contingent of Derbyshire men was in the retinue of Philip Leach, of
Chatsworth, whilst an important command was held by Thomas Beresford,
of Fenny Bentley, as recorded on his monument in that church.
[Illustration: =MELBORN CASTLE= _in the County of DERBY_.
_Formerly a Royal Mansion, now in Ruins; where John Duke of Bourbon
taken Prisoner by K: Henry V^{th}. in the Battle of Agincourt (An^o.
1414.) was kept Nineteen Years in Custody of Nicholas Montgomery the
Younger; he was released by K: Henry VI^{th}._
_This Draught is made from a Survey now in the Dutchy office of
Lancaster, taken in the Reign of Q: Elizabeth. Sumptibus, Soc: Ant:
Lond: 1733._
]
The notable triumph of Agincourt must have been long held in
remembrance in Derbyshire, for the midland fortress of Melbourne Castle
was selected as the place of imprisonment for the most notable prisoner
taken on that field of French disaster. John, Duke of Bourbon, was
confined at Melbourne for nineteen years; at first under the custody of
Sir Ralph Shirley, one of the leaders in the fight, and afterwards in
the charge of Nicholas Montgomery the younger.
In the deplorable Wars of the Roses, between the Lancastrians and
the Yorkists, which extended over thirty years from 1455 to 1485,
Derbyshire men took no small part, now on one side, now on the other,
whilst occasionally they were found in the ranks of both parties. A
commission issued in December, 1461, to Sir William Chaworth, Richard
Willoughby, and the Sheriff of Derbyshire, illustrates the disturbed
condition of the county in the beginning of the reign of Edward IV.
These commissioners were ordered to arrest John Cokayne, of Ashbourne,
who is represented as wandering about in various parts of the county
with others, killing and spoiling the King’s subjects, and to bring him
before the King in council.
A manuscript list of the “names of the captayns and pety captayns wyth
the bagges, in the standerds of the army and vantgard of the king’s
lefftenant enterying into Fraunce the xvj day of June,” 1513, begins
with George, Earl of Shrewsbury, the King’s lieutenant of the vanguard,
who bore on his standard “goulles and sabull a talbot sylver passant
and shaffrons gold”; the Derbyshire banneret, Sir Henry Sacheverell,
with John Bradburne for his petty captain, bearing “goulles a gett buk
sylver.” Other Derbyshire gentlemen who were captains in this array,
each having his petty captain and his “bagges” (badges) or arms as
borne on his standard, were:—Robert Barley with John Parker, Nicholas
Fitzherbert with John Ireton, Sir John Leek with Thomas Leek his
brother, Sir Thomas Cokayne with Robert Cokayne, Sir William Gresley
with John Gresley, Sir Gylbert Talbot the younger with Humphrey Butler,
Robert Lynaker with George Palmer, Thomas Twyford with Roger Rolleston,
Sir John Zouch (of Codnor) with Dave Zouch (his brother), Arthur
Eyre with Thomas Eyre (his brother), Ralph Leach and John Curzon (of
Croxall) with Edward Cumberford.
In addition to all these Derbyshire gentlemen, William Vernon bore
the banner of St. George, John Leach the banner of the lieutenant’s
arms, and Thomas Rolleston the standard of the talbot and chevrons.
Derbyshire considerably preponderated in this army of the vanguard,
there being twelve companies from that county. Shropshire had nine
companies, Staffordshire eight, Nottinghamshire six, and Leicestershire
and Cheshire two each; five other counties only furnished a single
company.
Into the grievous question of the cruel way in which the monasteries
were suppressed by Henry VIII. it is not proposed here to enter, even
after the briefest fashion. It may, however, be remarked that although
the county had no religious houses of first importance within its
limits—the most noteworthy being the Premonstratensian Abbeys of white
canons at Dale and Beauchief, and the houses of black or Austin canons
at Darley Abbey and Repton Priory—the amount of landed estates, both
large and small, held throughout Derbyshire under abbeys or priories
situated in other shires, was very considerable. If there is one
social or economic fact that is thoroughly established in connection
with this great upheaval, whose main object was to secure pelf for the
Crown, it is that the condition of the monastic tenantry was far better
than that of those under often changing secular rule.
The sternest possible measures were taken to suppress the least
disaffection shown against the policy of dissolution. Lives were lost,
even of those in high position up and down the country, on the merest
hearsay evidence of having indulged in private talk against the King’s
policy. At the time when Henry and his Court were seriously alarmed by
the Lincolnshire rising on behalf of the smaller monasteries, lists
were drawn up on October 7th, 1536, of the names of noblemen and
gentlemen to whom it was proposed to write, under privy seal, requiring
their aid with men and horses fit for war. The Derbyshire names on
this list were: the Lord Steward, Lord Talbot, Sir Henry Sacheverell,
Matthew Kniveton, Sir Godfrey Foljambe (Sheriff), Roland Babington, and
Francis Cokayne. The rising was, however, so summarily suppressed that
there was no necessity for the calling out of any general array.
There are full particulars extant of the Derbyshire musters for April,
1539, giving the exact number under each parish of archers with
horses and harness, of billmen with horses and harness, and also of
unharnessed archers and billmen. The total for the various hundreds of
the county, including the town of Derby, reached the total of 4,510.
As to the various religious changes in the reigns of Henry VIII.,
Edward VI., Mary, and Elizabeth, which affected Derbyshire as much
as any other part of the kingdom, it is not proposed here to enter.
Suffice it to say that their distinguishing feature under Elizabeth,
which was also continued throughout the greater part of the seventeenth
century, was the fierce persecution and ruinous fining directed
against the recusants of the Roman obedience. The reason for the
pre-eminence of Derbyshire in this respect arose from two facts:
firstly, that some of the most influential of the old Derbyshire
families, such as the Fitzherberts and the Eyres, remained steadfast
to the unreformed faith; and, secondly, that the wild districts of the
Peak afforded so many places of shelter to those recusants of this and
the neighbouring counties who desired to escape the rigorous search of
Elizabeth’s pursuivants.
Throughout the long reign of Elizabeth, the county musters were
under frequent survey. A few months before the reign began, the old
local militia, with its scale of arms (including bows and arrows) as
revised in 1285, which had continued for more than four centuries in
accordance with the scheme laid down by Henry II., came to an end.
The old Assize of Arms had long been found unsuitable to the advance
in the art of war. Eventually an Act of Parliament of Philip and Mary
“for the having of horse armour and weapon,” which provided that
after May 1st, 1558, everyone who had an estate of inheritance of
the value of £1,000 or above was to keep at his own cost six horses
meet for demi-lances (heavy cavalry), and ten horses meet for light
horsemen, with the requisite harness and weapons; also 40 corselets
for pikemen, 40 Almayne rivettes (flexible German armour), 40 pikes,
30 longbows, 30 sheaves of arrows, 30 steel caps, 20 black bills or
halberds, 20 hand-guns, and 20 morions or light open helms. A sliding
scale followed, making due provision for what was required from those
having lands of various values down to £10, and these last had to find
a longbow, a sheaf of arrows, a steel cap, and a black bill. Another
section of the Act provided that the inhabitants of every town, parish,
or hamlet, other than those who were already charged in proportion to
their landed property, were to find and maintain at their own charges
such harness and weapons as might be appointed by the commissioners of
the musters.
Within a few months of Elizabeth’s accession, this new legislation
was tested by calling out the general muster throughout the kingdom,
and by obtaining returns of the number in equipment from each county.
The long, interesting return for Derbyshire, dated March 9th, 1558–9,
is extant; it is signed by seven justices—George Vernon, Humphrey
Bradbourne, Henry Vernon, Francis Curzon, John Frances, Gilbert
Thacker, and Richard Pole. Every hundred and township is set forth in
detail, both as to the arms and the men. There was only one landowner
of sufficient wealth in the county to be called upon to provide all
that was requisite for a heavy horseman; but there were ten light
horsemen. The total of “the able Footemen harnissed and unharnissed”
amounted to 1,211, namely, 56 harnessed archers, 135 harnessed billmen,
236 unharnessed archers, and 784 unharnessed billmen.
A second full certificate of the able men, arms, and weapons throughout
the county was forwarded ten years later to the council. With this
return a letter was forwarded signed by the Earl of Shrewsbury as
lord-lieutenant, as well as by his deputies. A noteworthy paragraph in
this letter shows that Derbyshire was not taking kindly to the general
substitution of explosive weapons in the place of archery which was
then in progress.
“Touching thorders prescribed for thexercise of harquebuziers, the
truthe is this shire doth not aptlie serve theretoe for we have very
few harquebuziers & they placed so farre from market townes as they
shuld nott come to a day of exercise above the nombre of six, & yet
their travell further than in the time for the same is prescribed.
Indeed we have good plenty of archers & therefore in our generall
musters wee thought it best to appoint many of them to be furnished
accordingly & nowe if we shuld make a new charge the countrey
undoubledy wuld think themselves oversore burdened.”
The Earl of Shrewsbury received orders in November, 1569, to raise the
whole force of Derbyshire and Nottinghamshire, and to proceed against
the Earls of Northumberland and Westmoreland, “now in rebellion.” It
would be wearisome in a sketch of this character to note the various
incidents, which can be gleaned from both the public records and the
county muniments, as to the several occasions on which the Derbyshire
musters were called out when there was no immediate necessity for their
use.
The considerable part that this county played in the safeguarding
of Elizabeth’s unhappy prisoner, Mary, Queen of Scots, during her
repeated sojourns at Wingfield Manor House, together with her visits
to Chatsworth and Buxton, are fully dealt with in another paper in
this volume. It may, however, be here remarked that the deplorable
execution of Mary, in 1587, and the way in which the youthful Babington
had so rashly conspired in her favour, made a great impression upon
this county, and caused the Council as well as the local authorities to
redouble their precautions. Not only was a certain local undercurrent
stirred up in Derbyshire through the Fotheringay execution, but it also
had the result of hastening the hostilities of Philip of Spain and
other of Elizabeth’s external enemies. There was in consequence at this
period frequent exercise of the county forces. The Earl of Shrewsbury’s
gout prevented his taking any active part, and the work was chiefly
supervised by his brother-in-law, John Manners, the senior of the
deputy-lieutenants. A certificate of the musters, as viewed by Manners
in November, 1587, shows that there were 400 “selected bands armed and
prest for present service”; these bands were divided into 160 “shot,”
80 pikemen, 80 billmen, and 80 archers. It is interesting here to note
the remarkable way in which the musket had gained ascendancy over
the bow in fourteen years. In addition to the selected 400, Manners
returned 1,300 men who were available in times of need, namely, 300 for
shot, 300 for pikes, 360 for bills, 200 for bows, 80 as carpenters
and wheelwrights, and 60 as smiths. The mounted forces consisted of 9
demi-lances and 178 light-horse.
[Illustration: Wingfield Manor.
(_From an Indian Ink Drawing by Colonel Machell, 7th August, 1785._)]
This return, large as it was, was not, however, a complete one for the
whole county, for none of the musters from the hundred of Scarsdale
were allowed to be present for fear of infection. A grievous attack of
the plague was then raging at Chesterfield and several of the adjacent
parishes. The severity of what is termed in the parish register “the
great plague of Chesterfield” may be gathered from the fact that the
deaths of that town in June, 1587, were fifty-four, in July fifty-two,
and yet the average deaths in Chesterfield for several years about that
period were only three a month.
Although Derbyshire was perhaps further removed from the sea-coast than
any other county, the threatened approach of the great Spanish Armada
appears to have made almost as much stir as in the sea-board counties.
The gentlemen of the county consented to greatly increase the number of
lances and light-horse, provided that such action should not be taken
as a precedent; and they further promised to provide an addition of 400
to the number of unmounted troops. The old earl wrote a brave letter
to his sovereign, assuring her that the gentlemen of Derbyshire were
both ready and well affected, and that, as for himself, the threatened
invasion was making him young again, “though lame in body, yet was he
lusty in heart to lead her greatest enemy one blow, and to live and die
in her service.”
The signal defeat of Spain brought for some years general peace and
quiet throughout the kingdom. The musters in Derbyshire and elsewhere
were but rarely called out, save in the winter of 1598–9, when renewed
threats from Spain caused Sir Humphrey Ferrers, the most active of
the Derbyshire deputy-lieutenants, to view the musters of the various
hundreds.
Quite irrespective of the part played by the general musters during
this reign in preparation for possible emergencies, there was much
stir and excitement in the county, accompanied, no doubt, by a great
deal of misery, consequent upon the repeated call for troops to take
part in the subjection of Ireland. The levies of troops for Ireland
were almost ceaseless during the last quarter of the sixteenth century.
It has usually been understood by historians that these raw troops
came mainly from Lancashire and Cheshire; but the Belvoir manuscripts,
supported by the Acts of the Privy Council and local muniments, show
that Derbyshire—possibly as a compliment to her bravery—was being
constantly called upon to supply men for these expeditions entirely
out of proportion to the limited area and population of the county.
It is not surprising to find that these forcibly impressed levies,
utterly untrained in military matters, and suffering severely from poor
clothing, insufficient food, the dampness of the climate, and frequent
infectious disease, perished in large numbers before they could attain
to any proficiency. When the Earl of Essex was granted special powers
in 1573 to suppress the Irish rebellion, Derbyshire had to submit to
the impressment of a hundred men, and a complaint was lodged at the
sessions that some of the best lead-miners had been taken for that
purpose. The whole story of these forced levies, of the difficulty
of conveying them to the ports of Lancashire and Cheshire, of their
frequent desertions both en route and even when they had crossed the
seas, of the poorness of the weapons and equipments with which they
were supplied by the swindling contractors of the day, is a most sorry
and sordid tale. Nor could these Derbyshire troops have presented, even
when first called out, a particularly attractive or uniform appearance,
for the Belvoir manuscripts tell us that they were to be provided, in
addition to convenient hose and doublet, “with a cassock of motley and
other sea-green colour or russet.”
There was much nervousness with regard to Derbyshire when Elizabeth
was on her deathbed, in March, 1682–3. The council were alarmed lest
attempts should be made to remove Lady Arabella Stuart (who had a
certain kind of claim to the throne) by violence from the custody of
her grandmother, the old Countess of Shrewsbury, better known as Bess
of Hardwick. They dispatched Sir Henry Brounker in haste with a warrant
to all the Derbyshire lieutenants, justices, and constables, to give
him all assistance in guarding Arabella, and in the suppression of
every form of disorder and riot. On March 25th, Sir Henry met a large
body of the deputy-lieutenants and justices at North Wingfield, a short
distance from Hardwick Hall, when it was arranged that there should at
present be no general view of the musters, but that the constables were
to see that the armour was in readiness, and to take other precautions.
But whilst they were thus debating, death removed Elizabeth, and on the
following day James I. was quietly proclaimed King at Derby without any
trace of remonstrance.
Early in the reign of James I. the nature of the general musters or
local militia was considerably changed, but their special services were
never really needed during the time he was on the throne. In 1624,
when James was unhappily persuaded to give authority to the Duke of
Buckingham to raise 10,000 men in England to proceed to the Palatinate,
this county had some share in the general misfortune. Out of the great
disorderly rabble collected by impressment at Dover, half of whom died
in the overcrowded vessels from the plague ere they could even be
landed, Derbyshire contributed 150 men. These troops from the centre of
England were allowed 8d. a day whilst marching to Dover, and they were
expected to make at least twelve miles daily. It is probable that James
was at Derby in August, 1609, when making a progress from Nottingham
to Tutbury Castle. He was certainly in the county towards the close of
his life, during the summer progress of 1624. On August 10th the King
was at Welbeck, when he knighted two Derbyshire gentlemen, Sir John
Fitzherbert of Norbury, and Sir John Fitzherbert of Tissington. In the
following week he stopped two nights at Derby with Prince Charles,
proceeding thence in the following week to Tutbury. In the latter place
he knighted Sir Edward Vernon, of Sudbury.
In no other county in the whole of England is the evidence more clear
or detailed than in Derbyshire as to the ill-advised proceedings in
the opening part of the reign of Charles I., which eventually brought
about the misfortunes of the great Civil War. The methods of raising
funds for the Crown after an irregular fashion by way of benevolences
and loans, was no new invention of this ill-fated Stuart King. Such
exactions, though contrary to statute, were resorted to by Henry VII.
in 1491, when he took a “benevolence” from the more wealthy folk for
his popular incursion into France. Henry VIII. made like cause for an
“aimable graunte” in 1528 and in 1548. Elizabeth appears to have always
expected and received valuable “gifts” of money or plate during her
progresses, and numerous “loans” demanded and obtained from Derbyshire
gentlemen by that Queen were considerable, and a frequent cause of
friction when it was found that they were scarcely ever repaid. Charles
I., however, was so foolishly advised as to begin his reign by pressing
for definite sums, which were ridiculously termed “free gifts.”
Derbyshire was practically unanimous in its refusal to the demand. The
courts of four of the hundreds duly met in 1626, and declined to pay a
single farthing “otherwise than by way of Parliament.” The Derbyshire
justices met in session on July 18th, and forwarded to the council the
answers from all the hundreds. The first signature to this reply was
that of the Earl of Devonshire, and in the whole county only £20 4s.
was subscribed.
Two years later the King’s consent was obtained to the Petition of
Rights, and thus benevolences or forced loans were put an end to in
most explicit terms. The next expedient, however, for raising money
without Parliament was still more foolish. A well recognised method
for getting together a navy in actual time of war, namely, by issuing
ship-writs, had become established in Plantagenet days, and proved of
great service to Elizabeth in resisting the Armada. There were also
later precedents of 1618 and 1626, but in every one of these cases
ship-writs were only served on seaports, and were never issued save for
immediate warlike enterprise. The ship-writs, however, of 1634 were
served when there was no war or fear of attack; and in the following
year the grievance was intensified by serving writs on inland as well
as maritime counties and towns. Under the writs of 1635, the small
county of Derbyshire was called upon to pay the great sum of £3,500—£90
of which was to be contributed by the clergy. Many in the county
actively resisted. Sir John Stanhope, of Elvaston, flatly declined
to pay a farthing, was put under arrest, taken before the council in
London, and his goods distrained. A third ship-writ reached Derbyshire
in 1636, but the sheriff could only raise £700, and that with much
difficulty. A fourth writ in October of the same year, again demanding
£3,500, was served on the new sheriff, Sir John Harper. Resistance
was general. The King was compelled in 1640 to summon the “Long
Parliament,” which speedily declared all the late proceedings touching
ship money to be illegal and void. To this the King consented; but it
was too late, the mischief was done.
Charles I., in the earlier part of his reign, was on three occasions
the guest of the Earl of Newcastle at Bolsover Castle. The record visit
of the three was in 1633, when he was accompanied by his Queen. The
entertainment, as Lord Clarendon has it, was “very prodigious and most
stupendous.” The expenses for hospitality on this occasion reached the
huge total of £15,000; it was during the visit that Ben Jonson’s masque
of _Love’s Welcome_ was performed.
In 1635 Charles I. visited Derby, and slept at the Great House in the
market-place. The corporation and townsmen had very good reason to
remember this visit, for they gave the Duke of Newcastle for the King
a fat ox, a calf, six fat sheep, and a purse of gold to enable him
to keep hospitality, with a further present to the Elector Palatine
of twenty broad pieces. The King further improved the occasion by
“borrowing” £300 off the corporation in addition to his gifts, as well
as all the small arms in possession of the town. At the end of the
Scottish War in August, 1641, Charles I. passed through Derbyshire, and
was again at the county town on the eleventh of August, when he made
Sir John Curzon, of Kedleston, and Sir Francis Rodes, of Barlborough,
baronets.
The great Civil War began in the summer of 1642 with the raising of the
Royal Standard at Nottingham. The registers of All Saints, the great
church of the county town, have the following brief chronicle of this
dramatic incident: “the 22 of this August errectum fuit Notinghamiæ
Vexillum Regale.—Matt. xii. 25.” The vicar, Dr. Edward Wilmot, who
made the entry, was a staunch Royalist, and probably employed the
Latin tongue knowing full well the general tendency of the opinions of
the townsmen. When the news reached Derby, the response was meagre.
Hutton, the historian, tells us that about twenty Derby men marched
to Nottingham and entered the King’s service. On September 13th the
King marched with his army from Nottingham to Derby, but only made one
day’s stay in the town, pushing on from thence to Shrewsbury. Within a
few months practically the whole of the counties of Derby, Leicester,
Stafford, Northampton, and Warwick were united in an association
against the King.
Sir John Gell, of Hopton, at once came to the fore as the local
energetic supporter of Parliamentary Government, obtaining a commission
as colonel from the Earl of Essex. After rousing the county both at
Chesterfield and Wirksworth, he marched with a small force to Derby,
which he entered on the thirty-first of October, 1642, where he was
joined by one of the leading gentlemen of the south of the shire—Sir
George Gresley. It would take far more space than can here be afforded
to give even the barest outline of the ups and downs of the sad civil
strife that raged throughout Derbyshire, for the most part in favour of
the Commonwealth, for the next few years. It must suffice to state that
the county, apparently owing to its central position, suffered more in
various ways, both in loss of men and property of all descriptions,
than any other part of the whole of England. Wingfield Manor House,
Bolsover Castle, and such great houses as Chatsworth, Tissington,
Sutton, and Staveley, were held first by one side and then by the
other; whilst important garrisons at places so near to the county
boundaries as Welbeck, Tutbury, and Nottingham, contributed to constant
raids over the parts of Derbyshire within easy reach.
In 1645 the plight of Derbyshire was most deplorable, through the
frequent marches and counter-marches of the hostile forces through its
limits; for, although the Parliament held its own throughout the county
during the prolonged struggle, the Royalists now and again gained the
victory in a skirmish, and succeeded in maintaining their hold in
well-garrisoned places for a few months at a time. Both sides, also,
found it essential in their campaigns to cross the county in various
directions. In August of this year Sir George Gresley and others wrote
to the Speaker as to the miserable condition of the county, which had
been successively afflicted by the armies of Newcastle, the Queen,
Prince Rupert, Goring, and others, who had freely raided from even the
poorest of the people during their transits. The enemy, he stated, had
lost all their Derbyshire garrisons, but they had been taken by force
and at a great charge to the county. Several garrisons on the confines
of the county, such as Newark, Tutbury, and Welbeck, still had power
and means to levy contributions on the adjacent parts of Derbyshire,
and to ruin those who denied them. Moreover, the Scotch army had been
for a time very chargeable to the county, for they not only claimed
free quarters, but supplied themselves with what horses they required.
And now, to crown all, the King’s army had passed through, and made
spoil of a great part of the county. Some of the Parliament forces had
come to their help, and more were daily expected; but all of them would
at least have free quarters, and the owners of the very few horses
left in Derbyshire had now small hope of retaining them. The House of
Commons was asked to grant them the excise of the town and county for
the present maintenance of their own soldiers.
It must also be remembered in estimating the share that Derbyshire had
in this momentous conflict, that it has not only to be gauged from
what went on within her borders, but from the prominent share which
Derbyshire forces took in the battles and skirmishes that took place
in other parts of the kingdom. At the very outset of the struggle,
Derbyshire troops played an important part round Lichfield and in other
parts of Staffordshire. During the winter of 1644–5, Gell’s forces
from this county were busy about Newark, and also in Cheshire. In the
spring of the latter year they were engaged before Tutbury Castle;
and in July, 1648, Derbyshire horse played an important part in the
Parliamentary victory at Willoughby, Nottinghamshire.
In this same month the Derbyshire committee were ordered to send sixty
of their horse to Pontefract to help in the siege, and to join in the
resistance to the invasion from Scotland. On August 18th came the rout
of the great army of the Scots, under the Duke of Hamilton, at Preston.
The defeated cavaliers disbanded themselves in Derbyshire, dispersing
in all directions. Considerable numbers of the Scotch infantry were
gradually arrested, having vainly endeavoured to conceal themselves
amid the hills and dales of the wild Peak district. One of the most
terrible episodes of the strife in the Midlands occurred in the then
large church of Chapel-en-le-Frith. A vast number of the Scotch
prisoners were crowded into the church, with the shocking result thus
curtly entered in the registers:—
“1648 Sept: 11. There came to this town of Scots army, led by the
Duke of Hambleton & squandered by Colonell Lord Cromwell sent hither
prisoners from Stopford under the conduct of Marshall Edward Matthews,
said to be 1500 in number put into ye church Sept: 14. They went away
Sept: 30 following. There were buried of them before the rest went
away 44 persons, & more buried Oct. 2 who were not able to march, &
the same thyt died by the way before they came to Cheshire 10 & more.”
Space must be found for a far less tragic incident that occurred in
connection with another Derbyshire church in the south of the county
earlier in this strife. When the Royalists were making a special
effort to regain their hold on Wingfield Manor, Colonel Eyre, with his
regiment of 200 men, marching from Staffordshire, passed the night in
the church of Boyleston. Major Saunders, a local Derbyshire leader on
the Parliament side, heard of this night encampment, and with a small
troop of horse surrounded the church, and raising a simultaneous shout
at all the windows and doors demanded the instant surrender of all the
Royalists under pain of immediate fire. Colonel Eyre’s men, startled
from their sleep, were compelled to surrender; they were ordered to
come out one by one through the small priest’s door on the south side
of the chancel, and as each stepped forth he was seized and stripped of
his arms—“and soe,” wrote Major Saunders, “we took men, collours, and
all without loss of one man on either side.”
As to the general sympathy of this shire with the Commonwealth
proceedings, even after the execution of the King, the Commission
of the Peace in 1650 shows how large a proportion of the old county
gentlemen were content to accept commissions at the hands of the new
rulers. It includes such names as Sir Francis Burdett, Sir Edward
Coke, Sir Edward Leach, Sir Samuel Sleigh, Sir John Gell, Nicholas
Leeke, John Mundy, Robert Wilmot, Christopher Horton, James Abney,
Anthony Morewood, and Robert Eyre. Among the High Sheriffs under the
Commonwealth after this date were John Stanhope, of Elvaston, George
Sitwell, of Renishaw, and John Ferrers, of Walton.
On the other hand there were many staunch loyalists in the county, who
compounded heavily for their estates. Such were Sir Aston Cokayne,
Lord Chesterfield, Lord Francis Deincourt, Sir Henry Every, Sir John
Harpur, of Swarkeston, Sir John Harpur, of Calke, Sir Henry Hunloke,
Sir Francis Rodes, Thomas Leeke, Roland and George Eyre, William
Fitzherbert, Henry Gilbert, and Jervase Pole, of Wakebridge.
Among the great store of county muniments at Derby, there are few
papers that bring before the mind the incidents of the great civil
strife more vividly than the petitions from maimed soldiers addressed
to the Quarter Sessions for relief. Thus, in 1649, John Matthew, of
Loscoe, stated:—
“that yor petitioner was a soldier under the Comand of Captaine
Bagshaw at Wingfield Mannour, & was there plundered by the Cavileirs
of all the goods he had, since which it pleased God to strike yr
petitioner with lamenesse, that he is not able to help himselfe
further than hee is carried. That hee hath two small children & his
wife, & have sould theire Cow & all theire household goods & apparell
to buy them bread & other sustenance etc.”
The petitioner obtained a pension of 12d. a week, which seems to have
been the usual rate. After the Restoration the old Parliamentary
pensioners were discarded, and their place taken by those who had
fought on the other side.
Notwithstanding the Parliamentary convictions of the majority of the
inhabitants of Derbyshire, it is scarcely to be wondered that the
county returned with some eagerness to the monarchical faith at the
time of the Restoration, for its experiences of the evils of civil
warfare had been so peculiarly bitter. The Bill of Indemnity dealt
fairly generously with the large majority of those who had been in
arms against the late King, or active in the administration of the
Commonwealth. No one can be surprised that the extreme penalty of
the law was exacted on all those who had sat in judgment on Charles
I., and who had not fled the country. It is, however, specially
revolting to remember that the bodies of the three leading men among
the “regicides”—Cromwell, Bradshaw, and Ireton—were dragged from their
graves, hung at the three corners of the gallows erected to grace the
anniversary of Charles’ death, cut down and beheaded in the evening,
and the heads spiked in front of Westminster Hall. The last two of
these distinguished men were of good Derbyshire families.
It is difficult to know at what point to bring this historic sketch
to a close when dealing with the memorials of _old_ Derbyshire; nor
can more than a few more pages be spared for such a purpose. It may,
perhaps, be of some interest and permissible to chronicle with brevity
three more incidents of importance in connection with the history
of the shire, namely, (1) the Revolution of 1688, (2) the invasion
of Derbyshire by Prince Charles in 1745, and (3) the “Pentrich
insurrection,” as it has been absurdly termed, of 1817.
Derbyshire, in the person of William Cavendish, fourth Earl and
first Duke of Devonshire, may be said to have probably taken the
most prominent part in the driving of James II. from his throne, and
in the bringing to this country as his successor William of Orange.
There can be no doubt that Cavendish eventually became thoroughly and
conscientiously convinced as to the true patriotism of the course
that he took; but it would be idle to pretend that this distinguished
nobleman indulged in his first dislike of James for other than personal
motives. William Cavendish was one of the four young noblemen who
carried the train of Charles II. at his coronation in 1661. In that
year he was returned to Parliament for Derby, and remained a member of
the Commons until his father’s death in 1684. He was a man of hasty and
most vehement temper; becoming embroiled in a threatened duel in 1675,
he was committed to the Tower by the majority of the House for a short
period for having broken privilege. From that moment Cavendish took an
active part against the court party, and advocated the exclusion from
the succession of the Duke of York. After James II.’s accession, the
Earl had the bad grace to give way to his fiery temper just outside
the King’s Presence Chamber, when he felled to the ground one Colonel
Colepepper, who was said to have previously insulted him. For this
offence Cavendish was brought before the King’s Bench, when he was
fined in the gigantic sum of £30,000, being committed to prison until
payment was made. It is said that his mother, the Countess, brought to
James II. bonds of Charles I. for double that amount, lent to him by
the Derbyshire Cavendishes during the Civil War. The King, however,
refused to interfere, but the Earl managed to escape, and fled to his
house at Chatsworth. So powerful was Cavendish’s influence over his
tenantry, that when the High Sheriff and his posse arrived to arrest
him, the Earl coolly turned the tables upon them, imprisoned the whole
force at Chatsworth, and held them there until he had arranged for his
liberty by giving a bond for the gradual payment of this fine.
The earl used his retirement in Derbyshire in furthering the plots
for placing William of Orange on the throne, dispatching an agent in
May, 1687, to make a direct offer to William on behalf of himself
and other malcontent noblemen. The conspiracy came to a head in this
county, the leaders choosing for their place of meeting a room in
a small hostelry on the edge of Whittington Moor, near Chesterfield,
still known as the Plotting Parlour. The name of this humble inn was
changed, after William and Mary came to the throne, from the “Cock
and Pynot” to “Revolution” Inn; its restored remnants are now named
Revolution House. The original scheme was that William was to land in
the north, when Cavendish was at once to seize Nottingham. But these
plans were changed, and when the news reached the Midlands that William
had landed at Torbay on 5th November, 1688, the Earl of Devonshire put
himself at the head of 800 armed friends and retainers, and entered
Derby on the 21st of November, when he declared for the Prince of
Orange. He obtained some support, but the mayor (John Cheshire) refused
to sanction the billeting of the earl’s troops. Thereupon Cavendish
proceeded to Nottingham, where he met with more general support,
and issued a proclamation justifying the raising and drilling of
troops. The new sovereign naturally lavished his favours on his chief
supporter. The earl was appointed Lord-Lieutenant of Derbyshire in May,
1689, in place of the deposed Earl of Huntingdon, and in 1694 he was
created Duke of Devonshire and Marquis of Hartington.
[Illustration: Revolution House at Whittington.
_(From “Gentleman’s Magazine,” vol. lxxx, part 2, page 609.)_]
There was a considerable remnant of Jacobite feeling in the county,
particularly amongst the clergy, in the earlier part of the eighteenth
century. The Stuart rising of 1715, which came to an end at Preston,
caused much stir in Derbyshire, and there were several small tumults in
the county town. The town of Derby became much distinguished in 1745 as
the furthest place in England to which the brave Prince Charles Edward
with his little army penetrated, in what has been rightly termed a
gallant effort to achieve the impossible. There is no doubt that a very
considerable majority of the upper and middle classes of Derbyshire
were on the side of the constituted powers as then established; but
the local authorities were fully aware that there was a certain
amount of faith in a direct monarchical descent still current, and
they were in some doubts as to the views of others in a district such
as North Derbyshire, where there was still a considerable minority of
adherents to Roman Catholicism. They did not dare, therefore, to call
out the militia or any general forces of the county; but at a meeting
summoned by the Duke of Devonshire on the 28th of September, at the
“George Inn,” Derby, it was resolved to raise 600 volunteers in two
companies to resist the pretensions of a “Popish Pretender,” of which
the Marquis of Hartington and Sir Nathaniel Curzon, the two knights of
the shire, were to be colonels. A subscription list for the necessary
funds soon reached a sum of upwards of £6,000, and in the course of the
next month the number of troops raised was increased to a thousand. On
December 12th these troops were reviewed in the forenoon at Derby by
the Duke as Lord-Lieutenant. An hour later an express reached Derby
that the vanguard of the Scots had entered Ashbourne, whereupon in the
afternoon, to the astonishment of many, the local troops were again
drawn up in the market-place, and at ten in the evening “marched off by
torchlight to Nottingham, headed by His Grace the Duke of Devonshire.”
On the following morning the Scots entered Derby, and though they
tarried there for two days, the Derbyshire volunteers had no share in
their subsequent retreat and dispersion, for they were well out of the
way in the adjoining shire of Nottingham. An amusing and bitter skit
was written on the behaviour of this Derbyshire regiment, known as the
“Blues” from the colour of their uniform, wherein they were upbraided
for vanishing at the very moment when they were urgently needed. The
following is one of the concluding paragraphs:—
“And when they came to Retford, they abode until word was brought
that the young man was returned from Derby by the way which he came.
And they returned back, and when they came nigh Derby they gave great
shouts, saying, ‘Hail, Derby! happy are we to behold thee, for we
greatly feared never to have seen thee.’”
The Prince was proclaimed in the market-place, and a sum of £3,000
was seized from the excise offices. On the following morning a French
priest celebrated Mass in All Saints’ Church after the Roman use, which
is said to have annoyed the English Catholics, who used the Marian
missal in their private chapels. The Stuart forces quartered in Derby
on the first night numbered 7,098, and on the second night 7,148.
A small vanguard pushed on as far as Swarkeston bridge, but on the
third day, the 6th December, the prince, disappointed of the expected
additions to his forces and war chest, ordered a retreat, and the
little army again passed through Ashbourne to the north.
To this county belongs the discredit of being the last place in the
provinces where that horrible medley of butchery and torture—“hung,
drawn, and quartered”—which our forefathers invented as a penalty for
high treason, was carried out, although happily in a somewhat modified
form. The actually last instance occurred in 1820, when the five Cato
Street conspirators were beheaded after being hung. This shocking
form of death fell to the lot of a Derbyshire framework knitter and
two stonemasons in 1817. This was the time when the distress amongst
the working classes in the Midlands had come to a climax, when
every project of constitutional reform was stifled, and when a few
half-starved men, deliberately incited by the spies and informers
of those in authority, planned an abjectly foolish but riotous and
murderous scheme to obtain relief, which was hatched at the “White
Horse” Inn, Pentrich. The two or three score of labourers who took part
in this rising were almost instantly scattered by the yeomanry; but the
policy of the Government seems to have been to use this instrument
to terrify the populace at large, and thereby to crush all attempts
at reform. Hence everything was done that could be to exaggerate the
so-called rebellion, and although the misguided ringleaders richly
deserved punishment at the hands of the ordinary authority, it seems
monstrous to have charged the offenders with high treason, and with the
crime of levying war against the King. However, a special commission of
four judges was appointed, and the trials at Derby, which extended over
ten days, began on 15th of October. Most of the forty-six prisoners
were condemned to transportation, but three of the ringleaders, James
Brandreth, William Turner, and Isaac Ludlam, received the capital
sentence for high treason. The Prince Regent signed the warrant for
the execution of these three “traitors,” drawn from the humblest
station in life, remitting that part of the sentence which related to
“quartering,” with other absolutely unspeakable details, but ordering
the hanging, drawing, and beheading. Two axes were ordered of Bamford,
a smith of Derby, the pattern being taken from one in the Tower, which
was supposed to have served in like cases.
On the morning of Friday, the seventh of November, the three miserable
men, heavily ironed, were jolted round the prison yard on a horse-drawn
hurdle or sledge, prepared, like the block, by Finney, the town joiner.
On mounting the scaffold in front of the county jail, Brandreth and his
fellows briefly testified that they had been brought to this plight by
the tempting of Oliver, the degraded Government spy. They hung from the
gallows for half an hour. Brandreth’s body was the first taken down and
placed on the block. The greatest difficulty had been experienced in
finding an executioner, but at last the high fee of twenty-five guineas
secured several applicants. The chosen headsman was a Derbyshire
collier; he was masked, and his identity was never disclosed. The
mutilation was bungled; but when accomplished, the executioner seized
the head by the hair, and holding it at arm’s length in three
different directions over the crowd, thrice proclaimed, “Behold the
head of the traitor Jeremiah Brandreth.” The other two were served in
like manner. The scaffold was surrounded by a strong force of cavalry
with drawn swords, and several companies of infantry were also present.
The dense crowd was quite over-awed, and could utter no other protest
than “terrifying shrieks.”
In that crowd was the poet Shelley. The day before the execution,
the Princess Charlotte died in childbirth, and Shelley seized the
opportunity to write a vigorous and now most rare pamphlet drawing a
contrast between the two deaths.
The block on which these three men were beheaded is still preserved in
the new county gaol at Derby. It consists of two 2½ in. planks fastened
together, and measures 6 ft. 6 in. by 2 ft. Six inches from one end a
piece of wood 3 in. high is nailed across. The whole is tarred over,
but the wood, strangely enough, remains damp in places. A tradition
used to be current that the block sweated every seventh of November, on
the anniversary of the execution; the writer visited it on that day in
1888, and found no difference in the sweating to what he had noticed in
the previous week.
With Derbyshire during the century that has elapsed since the time of
this absurdly misnamed Pentrich “insurrection,” we have now no concern.
Its history during that period has been on the whole peaceful, and,
in the best sense of the word, progressive. When in times to come the
story of Derbyshire in the nineteenth century comes to be written,
there can be no doubt that one name will stand out in letters of gold
above its fellows. Florence Nightingale, now in her eighty-eighth
year, was the younger daughter of Mr. William E. Nightingale, of Lea
Hurst, near Matlock. It would be impossible to exaggerate the talent,
energy, and devotion which that lady displayed in her almost impossible
task of mitigating the horrors that overtook our sick and wounded
soldiers in the great Russian war. It is not too much to say that this
one gentle-born lady has entirely changed the conditions of military
and general hospital nursing, not only in England, but throughout the
civilised world. The Geneva Convention and the wearing of the Red Cross
are but some of the fruits of this Derbyshire lady’s noble example.
May it also be permitted in a single brief sentence to record the
fact that Derbyshire of the twentieth century has had the honour of
giving Chancellors to each of our two great universities—for the Duke
of Devonshire has for some time held the office of Chancellor of
Cambridge, whilst Lord Curzon of Kedleston, the late Viceroy of India,
was elected Chancellor of Oxford in March, 1907.
PREHISTORIC BURIALS IN DERBYSHIRE
By John Ward, F.S.A.
In prehistoric remains, Derbyshire is singularly favoured, and for
two reasons. In the first place, nearly every class of these remains
is represented, notably the following: cave-remains, burial-mounds,
circles, camps, villages and other habitation sites, and the doubtful
rocking-stones and other curious blocks and masses of rock which have
been regarded as rock-idols or as otherwise associated with prehistoric
man. In the second place, three of these classes—the first three of the
above enumeration—are both numerous and important, scarcely surpassed
by the corresponding remains of any other county in Great Britain.
Moreover, these various remains have received the careful attention of
a succession of antiquaries during the last century-and-a-half, and a
large number of them have been more or less systematically explored,
with the result that their literature is extensive and important.
Derbyshire, indeed, has played a prominent part in the elucidation of
the prehistoric archæology of our country.
Before entering upon the subject of this article, the distribution
of these remains in the county demands a few words. They are most
numerous in the mountainous region which lies north of Ashbourne and
Wirksworth, and west of Tansley, Darley, and East Moors. They are
rarely met with in the more gently undulating country to the east
and south. Why this should be is not altogether clear. It is probable
that the valleys and the low-lying lands generally, which are now the
most populated, were in prehistoric times too swampy for habitation;
but this does not explain the general absence of prehistoric remains
from the higher tracts of the lowlands of Derbyshire. It has been
suggested that the primitive inhabitants clung to the more mountainous
regions because of the ease with which they could be defended against
the marauding incursions of other tribes. It is more likely, however,
that agriculture is mainly responsible for the uneven distribution. The
fertile higher tracts of the lowlands have long been under cultivation,
whereas many of the Peak uplands still remain in the primal state of
nature, and many more of them have only been wrested from that state
within the last two centuries. One of the earlier effects of the
enclosing of the wastes in the eighteenth century and earlier decades
of the following century, was the removal of the large stones of
ancient monuments for gate-posts, and the despoiling of stone tumuli
for the construction of field-walls and roads. Even on the moors it
is rare that these remains have escaped partial demolition for the
sake of their materials. If the havoc wrought during two centuries
in the sparsely inhabited Peak country has been so great, it is not
surprising that few prehistoric remains are to be seen where the
land has been for a much longer time under cultivation. Probably
the relative abundance or scarcity of stone is also to some extent
accountable for the distribution. In the Peak, where stone is plentiful
and rock-fragments strew the ground, cairns or stone tumuli abound;
but in the south, where clays, marls, and glacial deposits abound, and
stone is only obtained by quarrying, the few remaining tumuli are of
earth. Earthwork, if left alone, is wonderfully enduring, but is highly
susceptible of being levelled, and so obliterated, by the plough. The
plough cuts through it as easily as through the natural soil; whereas
in the Peak may often be seen the stony bases of cairns, covered with
brambles, and avoided by the ploughman.
It is scarcely necessary to say that cairns, barrows, or tumuli,
are, archæologically, the names applied to ancient burial-mounds.
How the earliest races of men disposed of their dead we do not know;
but we know that the earliest stages of civilization were everywhere
characterized by a marked consideration for the dead, and this
represents the strongest and perhaps ultimate difference between man
and beast. When Neolithic man first appeared in our island, he already
had an elaborate system of sepulture, and the megalithic chambers he
raised are the greatest monuments of his age, and are among the most
notable remains of prehistoric times. The Pyramids of Egypt are but
barrows on a colossal scale, and constructed with all the engineering
skill and refinement of a higher stage of culture than obtained in the
west of Europe, and they will probably outlast all the other works of
the ancient Egyptians.
It is not difficult to understand why burial under mounds should have
preceded burial in the ground. In primitive times, before man possessed
metal tools, it was easier to collect stones from the waste or to
scrape sand or soil from the surface, wherewith to make a heap, than
to dig a hole. Hence it is that in the tumuli of the Neolithic Age,
and many of those of the following Bronze Age, interments are found
upon or above the old ground level; while in others of the latter
age, and many subsequent tumuli, they are found in shallow or deep
excavations, over which the mounds were raised. To the early Christians
the tumuli savoured of paganism, and soon ceased to be raised, but we
have a reminiscence of the ancient mode of burial in our word “tomb.”
In our country, as in the west of Europe generally, they range from
Neolithic times to the establishment of Christianity, and the study
of their contents better enables us to bridge the long interval with
the successive advances made by man than does that of any other class
of contemporary remains. In Derbyshire this is eminently the case, and
perhaps no other English county can furnish so continuous a series of
ancient interments.
In this county, as also in the contiguous parts of Staffordshire, a
barrow is popularly known as a “low,” from the Anglo-Saxon _hlaew_, a
small hill, heap, or mound, a word which is a frequent component in the
place-names, as in Ward_low_, Blake_low_, etc. The conspicuous barrows
at these and many other places so named, leave little room for doubt
that they are accountable for the names, and that when absent the names
may be regarded as evidence for their former existence. Whether the
evidence in the case of hills, so many of the names of which in the
Peak end in _low_, is of the same value is not so clear, as the hill
itself may have been regarded as a “low” on a large scale. But it is
well known that Neolithic and Bronze man had a decided penchant for
burying his dead on the tops and brows of hills, as the pimple-like
profile of many a barrow in such situations in the Peak amply proves.
It may well have been, then, that the name by which a “low” on a hill
was known has become transferred to the hill itself. It is impossible
to estimate the number of these ancient burial-mounds in Derbyshire.
The experienced eye will often detect on the moors the slight rise on
the surface which may represent one, unmarked on the Ordnance Survey,
and unrecognised as of possible archæological interest. The large
number of _low_ names, where no traces of these mounds are now to be
seen, indicates that many have disappeared, as also does the occasional
chance discovery of a cist or a cinerary urn where nothing on the
surface indicated an interment. The number of prehistoric burial places
(the Roman and post-Roman do not come within the scope of this article)
which have been discovered in the county and _described_ is little
short of 300.
[Illustration: Fig. 1.—Plan and Section of Chambered Tumulus, Five
Wells, Derbyshire.]
The first impression that the literature of these remains gives rise
to is their great diversity, a diversity which the reader will not
unnaturally associate with differences of age or of race, or of both
combined; but he will soon find their classification a difficult
task. Very few of those which have been explored were in a reasonably
perfect condition to begin with, and then the explorations have often
been insufficient, and the descriptions vague and inexact. In spite
of these drawbacks, however, the Derbyshire barrows are susceptible
of satisfactory classification into three main divisions: (1) a small
number containing megalithic chambers, and with general consent
assigned to the Neolithic Age; (2) a large and varied number which
belong to the Bronze Age; and (3) a few which are of later age, some of
which certainly synchronize with the Roman occupation. These groups, it
should be mentioned, merge into one another by transitional characters,
and there is a residue which, from insufficient data, cannot be
assigned to any particular class.
Neolithic Barrows
Including several more or less doubtful examples, there are or have
been within the last century, remains of about a dozen barrows
containing “chambers” in the county. Three of these—at Five Wells,
near Taddington, and at Mininglow and Harborough Rocks, near
Brassington—have yielded good results to exploration. All three were
unfortunately in an extremely ruined condition, but by piecing together
their evidence a fair idea can be obtained of their original state.
The Five Wells example (figs. 1 and 2) was excavated by Mr. Salt,
of Buxton, and the writer, in 1899.[1] The remaining lower portion
of the mound was found to be circular, about 56 feet in diameter,
and constructed of quarried stones roughly laid in courses, and so
disposed at the margin as to form a wall-like podium, which remained
in places to the height of three feet. Near the middle are still to
be seen the remains of two chambers, each about six feet long, and
constructed of great slabs of stone resting on the old natural surface.
Each had a paved floor, and was reached by a tunnel-like passage or
gallery, of similar construction to the chambers, from a porthole-like
entrance in the podium. Each chamber is somewhat wedge-shaped, the
wider end being that into which the gallery opened, and immediately
within this end are two pillar-like stones, one on each side, which
structurally formed the last pair of side stones of the gallery; but
they differed in their greater height. The use of these “pillars” is
uncertain, but the writer has suggested that between each pair was a
dropstone, which when raised, portcullis-fashion, to allow of access to
the chamber, was received into an upper space.
[1] _Reliquary and Illustrated Archæologist_, vii., 229.
The Mininglow example is larger, is also circular, and appears to
have had five chambers, of which two (figs. 4 and 5) closely resemble
the above, except that they seem to have lacked the “pillars.” Mr.
Thomas Bateman, who examined this tumulus in 1843, found that it had a
wall-like podium as at Five Wells, and he traced one of the galleries
to its orifice in this podium. Had he pushed his investigations
further, it is probable he would have found the mound to be of similar
built construction.[2] The Harborough Rocks barrow was excavated by the
writer in 1889, but it was too ruined to allow of its shape and the
number of its chambers to be determined. One chamber (fig. 3), however,
remained, and this also resembled those at Five Wells, but it is
doubtful whether it ever possessed “pillars.” A portion of the gallery
was traced, as also what was almost certainly a fragment of a podium.[3]
[2] _Vestiges of the Antiquities of Derbyshire_, 39; _Ten Years’
Diggings_, 54, 82.
[3] _Journal_ of Derbyshire Archæo. and Nat. Hist. Soc., xii., 118.
[Illustration: Fig. 2. East Chamber at Five Wells. View From the
North-East.]
Of the other barrows of the type, little can be said of their
structure. Several have been opened or destroyed by labourers, and the
rest have only been slightly examined. Mr. Bateman examined examples
at Ringham-low, near Monyash; Bolehill, near Bakewell; Stoneylow and
Greenlow, near Brassington; Smerrill, near Youlgreave; and a second
one at Mininglow. They all appear to have been constructed with stone,
and their chambers to have been on a megalithic scale. He makes no
mention of galleries, but as his efforts were confined to clearing out
the ruined chambers, he might easily have overlooked their remains.
With the exception of the first-mentioned, they were all circular, but
his plan and description of that barrow leave it uncertain whether its
curious outline was original or due to additions. The remaining three
barrows—the great one near Chelmerton,[4] one near Wardlow,[5] and one
on Derwent Moor,[6] have only a doubtful claim to be included in the
chambered class. They were broken into a century or more ago, and the
accounts of them are very meagre.
[4] _Pilkington_, _View of Derbyshire_, ii., 424.
[5] _Philosoph. Trans._, 1759.
[6] _Ten Years’ Diggings_, 254.
Unfortunately, all the chambers in this county which have been
searched from scientific motives had already been rifled, but that at
Harborough Rocks had suffered least. Here the mound had been almost
entirely removed for the sake of its materials, the capstone of the
chamber had been thrown over, and many of the skeletons it contained
scattered; but, fortunately, six of these remained untouched. These
were laid on their sides across the space, in the usual contracted or
doubled-up attitude. Mr. Bateman, in 1843, found in the more perfect
of the two Five Wells chambers the remains of about twelve skeletons,
all in a state of confusion. He also found a similar number in one
of the Ringham-low[7] chambers, and in that at Smerrill, and a still
greater number at Stoney-low.[8] The chambers at Mininglow and
Greenlow had been too much rifled to yield more than a few scattered
bones to his spade. In the Wardlow barrow seventeen skeletons were
found, “inclosed by two side walls”; and from that on Derwent Moor a
“cartload of human bones occupied a large trench above a yard wide.”
The skulls in every case, when sufficiently perfect for their form to
be made out, have been of the long or dolichocephalic shape; and all
the shin bones that have come under the writer’s notice have exhibited
the peculiar flattening known as platycnemism. These Neolithic people
had a remarkable immunity from dental caries, although the teeth are
frequently so worn down by mastication that they must have been almost
level with the gums in life. Out of 148 teeth at Harborough Rocks, many
of which were excessively ground down, there were only five or six
which showed any signs of caries.
[7] _Ten Years’ Diggings_, 93.
[8] _Vestiges_, 46.
In no case has a bronze or other metallic object been found associated
with these interments. The few stone implements which have been found
are all of flint, and it is significant that these have consisted
mostly of thin and delicately-worked arrow-heads of leaf-shaped form.
The clayey floor of the gallery at Harborough Rocks yielded several of
these, all excessively thin and beautifully wrought, all either broken
or calcined, and associated with fragments of charcoal. Several fine
examples were found in two of the Ringham-low chambers, and the point
of one at Five Wells; and, in addition, a knife of delicate workmanship
was also found with the last, as also fragments of coarse pottery, but
these may have been derived from destroyed later burials at a higher
level.
[Illustration: Fig. 3.
Fig. 4.
Fig. 5.
Figs. 3, 4, and 5.—Plans of “Chambers.” Fig. 3, at Harborough Rocks;
Figs. 4 and 5, at Mininglow, Derbyshire.]
This association of numerous skeletons, dolichocephalic skulls, and
leaf-shaped arrow-heads in Neolithic chambers has been observed
elsewhere in Britain. We need only cross the Derbyshire border a few
miles for an excellent example of this. In 1849 a large and little
disturbed chamber was opened at Wetton, in Staffordshire, which
yielded about thirteen dolichocephalic skeletons and several of these
arrow-heads. Further afield, at Rodmarton, in Gloucestershire, the
arrow-heads were all broken, apparently intentionally, as seems to have
been the case at Harborough Rocks. The placing of things which are
useful in life with the dead is both ancient and widespread, and has
its roots in the belief in man’s continued existence after death, and
that somehow they will still be of use to him. The breaking or burning
of them may have been partly to render them useless to the living, and
partly by thus “killing” them to set their spirits free to join the
departed in the world of spirits. Perhaps, too, there was a sacrificial
intention of propitiating the ancestral spirits. The presence of the
arrow-heads in the gallery at Harborough Rocks is more suggestive of
offerings to the dead than the depositing of objects with them at the
burial. Some prehistoric man would, perhaps, for reasons best known to
himself, crawl into the entrance to the vault of the family or the clan
and there make his offering, and with some appropriate formula dedicate
it to the dead by breaking or burning the objects, the enduring
arrow-heads and charcoal alone remaining to us as witnesses of the act.
The thinness and delicacy of these arrow-heads suggest that they were
made, not for use, but for this special purpose, like the amber and jet
models of implements which have been found in Continental chambers.
A further stage, in which the act has become degraded into a purely
representative one, is seen in the imitation cardboard money which the
Chinaman burns to enrich the soul of his ancestor.
Assuming that the less known examples correspond with the better
known, which seems probable, these Derbyshire Neolithic burial-places
constitute, in their circular outlines and their abrupt entrances,
a strongly marked local type, contrasting in these respects with
the more usual elongated forms and incurved entrances elsewhere.
The wedge-shaped plans and inward leaning sides of the chambers
at Mininglow, Five Wells, and Harborough Rocks, present another
peculiarity. The apparent absence of galleries in some of these remains
may not be due to oversight or want of investigation, as this means of
access has been proved to be absent from some of the barrows of this
period; but it seems to be an essential that the chamber should have
some means of access, even if it involved digging, for the whole trend
of enquiry goes to show that it was designed for successive burials,
and herein it differs from the cists of the barrows we next consider.
Bronze Age Barrows
The barrows of this era in Derbyshire, as elsewhere, differ so much
among themselves in form, size, construction, and contents, that it
is impossible to establish a Bronze Age “type.” They have little in
common, except in the relics associated with their interments, which
have the impress of a common age. Compared with the chambered class,
they are, as a rule, smaller and of less elaborate construction; but
more marked is the difference in their internal arrangements. The
former barrows suggest the idea that they were erected _to receive_
the dead; these, that they were _piled up_ over the dead. The chamber,
being designed to receive successive interments, was provided with
a tunnel-like gallery, or other means of more or less easy access;
whereas the Bronze Age cist or grave, having received its charge,
was permanently closed, and if the mound which was raised over it
was used for future burials, new receptacles were made for the dead,
which rarely interfered with the primary or original one. Sometimes,
however, in digging a new grave the primary was reached, and more
often than not the bones were thrown on one side to make way for the
new interment, thus indicating how completely the Neolithic procedure
had disappeared.
The results of the examination of about 250 of the Derbyshire Bronze
Age barrows have been placed upon record, and these represent about
three times as many interments which have been described—by “interment”
must be understood, not the remains of each separate body buried, but
_each burial_, whether it consisted of one body or more.
So far as can be judged from the usually worn down and mutilated
condition of these Derbyshire barrows, the prevailing original form
was that of a shallow dome or inverted bowl, but various transitions
ending with the disc-shaped types of Dr. Thurnam occur. Their outlines
are circular, unless rendered irregular by the addition of secondary
mounds or the depredations of a still later age. Their usual diameters
range between 30 and 60 feet, and the heights rarely exceed 6 feet; but
these dimensions are occasionally less or greater. With few exceptions,
the mounds are of stone, or of stone with an admixture of earth; but
whether the latter is an original ingredient is often uncertain—it may
be merely blown earth and vegetable mould. Broadly speaking, therefore,
these Bronze Age barrows are cairns. In most instances they consist
of such stones as may be gathered from the surface, simply thrown
together. A slight advance upon this is the introduction of a kerb of
larger stones to define the margin of the mound (fig. 6). In a further
advance, the kerb is formed of one or more rings of large, flat stones
set on edge in the ground and inclining inwards. In a still further
advance, the whole mound may be built up of concentric rings of such
inclined stones. The barrow on Grinlow[9] (on which the tower known
as “Solomon’s Temple” stands), near Buxton, showed this construction
(fig. 7). In the kerbed barrows, the partial removal of the looser
materials of the central portion may result in a table-like mound, the
kerb forming a well-marked shoulder; and if the destructive process has
gone further, this may stand out verge-like—results which have been
mistaken for original designs. Examples of all these are to be met with
in Derbyshire.
[9] _Proceedings_, Society of Antiquaries, 1895.
These barrows, again, are sometimes surrounded with a bank or a ring of
stones, or a combination of the two. That known as Hob Hurst’s House,
on Baslow Moor,[10] is closely invested with an annular bank, and the
writer has seen a similar example on Eyam Moor. In others, the bank is
further away, and is usually capped or lined with a row of standing
stones, a few feet or yards apart. There was formerly a good example
of this variety on Abney Moor, and others on Eyam Moor with rings
apparently of stones only. As the ring expanded, the enclosed mound
seems to have been smaller, and consequently more easily removed by the
accidents of time; and this probably explains the origin of the smaller
so-called “Druidical” circles.[11]
[10] _Ten Years’ Diggings_, 87.
[11] See article, “Early Man,” _Victoria History_, Derbyshire.
[Illustration: Fig. 6.—Section of Barrow at Flaxdale, near Youlgreave.
(_From wood-cut by Llewellynn Jewitt_.)]
[Illustration: Fig. 7.—Section of Barrow at Grinlow, near Buxton.]
[Illustration: Fig. 8.—Plan of Burial at Thirkelow, near Buxton.]
During the period we are considering, both inhumation and cremation
were practised, sometimes together. The placing of the interments was
as diverse as the forms and construction of the barrows. For the moment
we will confine ourselves to the inhumated class. In the simplest mode
of burial, the body was laid on the ground and the mound heaped over
it. But often, perhaps usually, something was done to fence it in,
or to protect it from the material of the mound. The simplest fence
consisted of a row of stones placed round the body (as in the plan of
the interment of a barrow at Thirkelow, near Buxton, fig. 8[12]), and
between this and the symmetrical enclosure, formed of flag-stones
set on edge, has been found every transition. When it was desired to
protect the body from the weight of the mound above, a simple device
was to place it at the foot of a large stone or a ledge of rock,
against which flat stones were reared pent-wise over it; or large
stones were made to incline against one another from opposite sides,
like a gable roof. From these simple devices we pass through another
series of transitions to the box-like cist, formed of slabs on end and
roofed with others. Then there was burial in a grave, shallow or deep,
large or small, simply filled up with earth or stones, or roofed with
one or more flag-stones to form a vault; and the vault, when lined
with other flag-stones, became an underground cist. Examples of all
these modes of burial have been found in Derbyshire, where, from the
abundance of stone, cists are numerous. We know that timber was used
for like purposes where stone is scarce, and there is indirect evidence
for its occasional use in this county.
[12] _Proc._ Soc. Ant., 1896.
What has been said above, will apply in some measure to the cremated
interments. Occasionally these are found in cists, graves, and other
receptacles, as large as those containing unburnt skeletons; but more
frequently they are smaller and better proportioned to the small
compass of the remains. Probably the larger receptacles relate to the
early days of cremation, when it was a new fashion; to-day, by force
of habit, we occasionally transfer the few handfuls of ashes from
the crematorium to an ordinary coffin instead of an urn for burial.
Generally speaking, however, the disposal of the cremated remains
differed considerably from that of unburnt bodies. When the funeral
pile was raised on the spot where the burial was to take place, it was
the common custom to collect the calcined bones into a little heap on
the surface, or to place them in a shallow depression made before or
after the burning. In either case, they were sometimes deposited on a
flat stone, and there is reason to think that they were often first
tied up in a cloth or placed in a basket. This would be especially
convenient when they had to be transferred to a different site for
burial from that where the body was burned, as seems to have been more
often the case in Derbyshire. A more notable receptacle for the burnt
remains was the cinerary urn, which may be regarded as the equivalent
of both the cloth or basket and of the cist. The urn was usually
deposited in a simple hole, and most often, in this county, upright,
the mouth being nearly always covered with a thin stone. When reversed,
the mouth usually rested upon such a stone.
The regard of the Derbyshire Bronze people for their dead sometimes—and
perhaps more often than we suspect—went beyond the mere provision of
a protection from the surrounding soil or stones. Occasionally the
receptacle was paved, or it contained gravel, clay, or fine earth or
sand, on which the body was laid, or in which it was embedded. On
Stanton and Hartle moors several cists containing cremated remains were
filled with sand, which in one rested on a bed of heather.[13] In a
grave at Shuttlestone,[14] near Parwich, the body had been wrapped in
a skin, and laid upon a couch of fern leaves. In another, near King’s
Sterndale,[15] there was tenacious clay mixed with grass and leaves,
which still retained their greenness. The presence of these perishable
substances, which under ordinary conditions must have soon disappeared,
may represent a general custom.
[13] See _Vestiges_ and _Ten Years’ Diggings_.
[14] _Ten Years’ Diggings_, 34.
[15] _Proc._ Soc. Ant., 1899.
The dead were evidently buried or cremated, as the case may have been,
in their wearing apparel, for the pins, buttons, studs, weapons, and
the like, which are frequently found with the unburnt remains, are
often in the relative positions they would occupy on the attire; and
in case of the burnt, they have almost invariably passed through the
fiery ordeal.
[Illustration: Fig. 9.—Dolichocephalic Skull from “Chamber” at
Harborough Rocks. Side and Top Views. (Scale = ⅓.)]
Barrow burial in Derbyshire, as elsewhere, was not confined to one
sex or to any particular age. The remains of women and children are
found in graves and cists as carefully constructed and associated
with implements and ornaments as varied and elaborate as those which
appertain to the men, indicating, surely, that the family tie was
strong, and that the lot of the women was not servile. The frequency
with which an infant is associated with an adult, usually a woman, and
presumably the mother, probably points to infanticide upon the demise
of the parent. Similarly, the occasional presence of a woman’s remains
with those of a man points to suttee. More frequently a deposit of
cremated bones is associated with a skeleton, and this may possibly
represent the sacrifice of a slave. These in themselves, however, do
not necessarily indicate a state of savagery, as the recent prevalence
of suttee in India and of infanticide in China sufficiently prove.
In the unburnt interments, the body was laid in a more or less
contracted posture, varying from a slight flexure of the knees to such
a doubling up as to bring them close to the chest, and nearly always on
the side, very rarely sitting. The contracted posture may be said to be
the invariable Bronze Age rule in Derbyshire, for the only exception—a
skeleton laid at full length at Crosslow[16]—may possibly have belonged
to a later period. The side on which the body was laid, and its
orientation, have in themselves no apparent signification, and are
irrespective of sex or age. To judge from the recorded instances, about
as many were laid on the left side as the right. Their orientation
shows a slight predilection for the south, and a more marked aversion
to the north-west. The Rev. Dr. Greenwell pointed out many years
ago[17] that in the majority of instances in the north of England
which came under his notice, the bodies had been so placed as to face
the sun during some part of the day, nearly 60 per cent. having their
gaze confined to southerly directions between the south-west and the
south-east. If we analyse the forty-four Derbyshire cases in which both
the orientation and the side are given, we obtain a similar result—the
faces of over 60 per cent. looking in directions ranging from west
to south-east. It seems clear that no importance was attached to the
direction of the body or the side upon which it was laid, except so far
as these enabled it to face the source of light and life; but it was
not a rule invariably insisted upon.
[16] _Vestiges_, 57.
[17] _British Barrows._
These skeletal remains throw an interesting light upon the contemporary
inhabitants of Derbyshire. Unfortunately, when Bateman was so actively
engaged in opening barrows, anthropology was in its infancy. He and his
colleagues rarely gave more than the cephalic index and femoral length,
and even these not always. The terms used in describing the skulls,
as “boat-shaped,” “oval and elevated,” “medium,” “rather short,”
“platycephalic,” “evenly rounded,” etc., do not admit of precise
interpretation, and probably no exact value was attached to them. From
all sources sufficient particulars of about 85 Bronze Age skulls found
in Derbyshire are available to allow of the following classification:
Dolichocephalic skulls, approximately 16
Mesaticephalic ” ” 25
Brachycephalic ” ” 44
--
85
This intermixture of skull-forms has long been observed in the barrows
of this age elsewhere in the country, and is generally recognized
as indicating the intrusion of a round-head people upon the Neolithic
long-heads, the intermediate form being the result of intermarriage
between the two stocks. The proportion of these different forms in
Derbyshire is of peculiar interest, because, as the Rev. Dr. Greenwell
pointed out in his _British Barrows_, the dolichocephalic and
brachycephalic skulls are found in about equal numbers in the barrows
of the wolds, whereas in those of the south-west of the island the
latter very greatly preponderate. Hence, in Derbyshire, the ratio, like
its geographical position, is roughly intermediate, and thus naturally
confirms his conclusion, “that the earlier long-headed people were more
completely eradicated by the intrusive round-heads in Wiltshire than
they were in East Yorkshire.” The general experience has been that the
brachycephalic skeletons indicate a race of more powerful physique than
the people with whom they intermingled. Assuming that the length of
the femur or thigh-bone is 27.5 per cent. of the stature in life, the
average stature of twenty-one men was 5 ft. 7⅓ ins., and of seven women
5 ft. 0½ ins. The difference between these statures, nearly 7 ins.,
considerably exceeds that which obtains in England to-day, and must
probably be set down to the effects of early child-bearing and hard
work on a poor and irregular diet upon the Bronze women.
[Illustration: Fig. 10.—Brachycephalic Skull from Grinlow. Side and Top
Views. (Scale = ⅓.)]
The various objects associated with the interments have, as already
stated, the impress of a common age. The most remarkable are the
earthen vessels. Besides the cinerary urns referred to above, there
were vessels of other forms, which have received the names of
“drinking-cups,” “food-vases,” and “incense-cups.” The first two are
with little doubt rightly named, as both in Derbyshire and elsewhere
traces indicating the former presence of liquids and of solid foods
have been detected in them respectively. The use of the diminutive
“incense-cups” is unknown, and the name is a fanciful one. All these
vessels are of clay, with an admixture of sand or crushed stone to
prevent them cracking in the process of firing, and are shaped by hand
and imperfectly burnt. The ornamentation is essentially of the same
character in all, but it varies greatly in elaboration, consisting
of various combinations of straight lines, produced for the most
part by the impression of twisted thongs or rushes or of notched
stamps, or, less frequently, of grooves made with a pointed tool.
These combinations are extremely varied, consisting of simple bands
of parallel lines, parallel lines in alternate series, horizontal and
vertical, saltires, zig-zags, “herring-bone” and latticed diapers, etc.
Punched dots and impressions of the finger-nail or tip also occur, but
sparingly. The forms of the drinking-cups, food-vases, and cinerary
urns are tolerably constant in Derbyshire, but the little incense-cups
vary very much; these, too, are usually the most carefully made, while
the urns are, as a rule, the coarsest and the least decorated. In figs.
11 and 12 are shown Derbyshire examples of each kind, which will convey
a better idea of them than any description.
[Illustration: Fig. 11.—Typical Examples of Bronze Age Burial Vessels,
Derbyshire.
A—Drinking-Cups. B—Food-Vases. (Scale = 1/5 size of originals.)
]
Flint implements, flakes, and fragments are the most frequent
accompaniments. The implements include all the ordinary forms of the
period: arrow, javelin and spear-heads, daggers, knives, scrapers,
fabricators, and chisels, of every grade of workmanship down to
nondescript-worked fragments of uncertain use. The majority of the
flint objects are, however, mere shapeless fragments and chippings, and
the frequent presence of these seems to indicate that the placing with
the dead of things useful in life had already begun to degenerate into
a merely symbolic ceremony.
Bronze objects follow next, but a long way behind. Of these the most
numerous by far are knife-daggers, the rest consisting of awls, pins,
axes, or celts, etc., and mere fragments. The first are of the early
form, in which the blade was attached to the handle by two or three
rivets, and the axes are of the early flat or slightly flanged form.
Next come objects of bone and deer-horn; the former consisting mostly
of pins and borers, and the latter of hammers. Then follow jet and
Kimmeridge—coal beads, studs, and necklaces, several of these being of
elaborate character. Besides the above, drilled and polished basalt and
granite axe-hammers, whet-stones, rubbers, quartz pebbles, red ochre,
and iron ore are occasionally met with. The animal remains associated
with the interments are those of species still existing in Europe, and
they include the present domesticated animals—the ox, sheep, goat, pig,
horse, and dog. So frequently has a tooth, described as that of an ox
or a horse, been reported that there is little doubt its introduction
had some ceremonial import; perhaps, here again, it was a food offering
reduced to a representative symbol.
Besides the various objects actually found with the interments, others
often occur amongst the materials of the mounds. Some of these may have
been unwittingly gathered up with the materials, and thus be of much
greater age than the barrows in which they are found; others may have
been casually dropped in after times, and have gravitated into the
interior. But a more fertile source of the scattered objects is the
disturbance of the earlier interments by the introduction of the later
ones.
The objects described above fall into two, but not easily separated,
classes—those which were introduced with the wearing apparel of the
deceased, and those with ceremonial import. The vessels are a good
example of the latter, as they differed in a marked degree from those
used for domestic purposes. So also the animals’ bones, especially the
teeth just referred to, as they evidently (as also the drinking-cups
and food-vessels) imply offerings of food to the dead. The absence
of Roman influence is noteworthy, as also is the absence of articles
characteristic of the later Bronze Age, as swords, palstaves, and
socketed axes. The objects indicate in the aggregate a time when stone
implements were going out of use, and bronze was confined to a few
light implements. But it must not be assumed in consequence that the
barrows we are considering were confined to the earlier Bronze Age.
The remarkable differences in the mode of interment, which have been
only sketchily described on the foregoing pages, present a highly
interesting problem to be solved. The prevailing view is that these
different modes were practised simultaneously by different tribes,
and even by the same people. The double interments, in which an
unburnt skeleton is associated with a deposit of cremated remains,
may seem to countenance the latter view, while the distribution of
the interments favours the former. For instance, in certain districts
certain modes prevailed. On and around Stanton Moor, and throughout the
country between Eyam, Castleton, and Sheffield, cremated interments
predominate, while in many parts of the west of the county the
interments are exclusively unburnt. Then, again, in barrows containing
many burials there is a decided partiality for like rather than unlike
interments. But if the phenomena are subjected to a careful and
systematic study, it will be found that these differences are neither
local nor tribal, but in the main consecutive.
The problem is solved by the superposition and other evidences of
sequence of the different interments in those barrows which contain
several, with the comparison of the associated objects, and then by a
general correlation of the results derived from the individual barrows.
It is by a similar process that the geologist establishes the sequence
of his formations; the fossils playing the part of the associated
objects. The pottery is a peculiarly valuable factor in the enquiry,
as in spite of the conservatism of half-civilised people, the ease
with which the plastic clay can be modelled into any desired shape
resulted in comparatively rapid changes in form and decoration. In this
respect the pottery contrasted with the flint and stone implements,
the intractability of the materials of which limited the workman to a
narrow range of forms; hence these forms continued unchanged through
long periods. We will now give a few illustrations.
[Illustration: Fig. 12.—Typical Examples of Bronze Age Burial Vessels,
Derbyshire.
A—Incense-Cups. B—Cinerary Urns. (Scale = 1/5 size of originals.)
]
In a barrow at Parcelly Hay[18] Mr. Bateman found a skeleton in a
vault, and immediately above its cover-stones was another, accompanied
with a bronze knife-dagger and a polished granite axe-hammer. Here
is a case of simple superposition, in which the older interment was
not disturbed by the later one. But frequently the later introduction
disturbed or quite displaced the earlier. At Gray Cop,[19] near
Monsal Dale, for instance, the original interment consisted of the
skeletons of a woman and a child; but at a later date the cremated
remains of another body had been buried so deeply that the woman’s
pelvic bones had been dispersed in the process. The havoc wrought by
the introduction of secondary interments is sometimes very confusing,
and has given rise to erroneous conclusions on the part of the
barrow-digger. In the two examples just cited, the earlier interment
was the primary one—the one over which the mound was raised in the
first instance—and it occupied the normal position, the centre of the
site. The secondary interments may or may not be in the centre. In a
small barrow at Lidlow,[20] near Youlgreave, for instance, the primary
interment was a skeleton in a cist, while near the margin of the mound
was a later deposit of burnt bones under a cinerary urn. In another at
Blakelow[21] a central grave contained the skeletons of a woman and
infant with a drinking-cup, while in a cist at a higher level near the
edge were six more skeletons with a food-vase. In another on Hartle
Moor[22] was a deposit of burnt bones with a food-vessel in the central
cist, and near the margin a cinerary urn with its contents.
[18] _Ten Years’ Diggings_, 23.
[19] _Reliquary_, 1867.
[20] _Vestiges_, 33.
[21] _Ten Years’ Diggings_, 41.
[22] _Vestiges_, 72.
It has occasionally happened, however, that no central interment has
been recorded. In some cases we may suspect that the explorers had
forgotten that the primary interment is sometimes in a deep grave below
the natural level. On the other hand, carelessness on the part of those
who originally raised the mound may account for the interment being out
of the centre. The same result has been brought about by additions to
the original mound upon the occasions of new interments, for the Bronze
folk were not always content with merely inserting these into an old
mound. Sometimes the additional matter formed a capping. A barrow on
Ballidon Moor[23] furnishes a good example of this; it had an inner
cairn containing several interments, and was surmounted with a thick
layer of earth, at the foot of which was an ashy stratum representing
the site of a funeral pile, while in the earth above were the cremated
remains derived from it. It was evident, therefore, that this capping
was added on this occasion. More often the later mound was thrown
up against the side of the old one. The smaller chambered cairn at
Mininglow[24] was found to have had a mound of earth cast up against
its side, and this had been raised over the spot where a man had been
cremated, with whose remains were a bronze dagger, part of a bone
implement, and some “good flints,” all of which had passed through the
fire with their owner; and at Five Wells, Mr. Salt found a secondary
interment of Bronze Age type, consisting of a contracted skeleton in
a small cist, which had been constructed against the podium of the
chambered cairn, and covered with stones and earth—two interesting
proofs of the greater age of the chambered tumuli. These additions are
not easily detected if their materials are similar to those of the
parent mounds, but their effect may be apparent in the superficial
irregularities they give rise to. Not a few Derbyshire examples could
be given which probably owe their irregularities to this cause.
[23] _Ten Years’ Diggings_, 57.
[24] _Ibid._
These illustrations will have given the reader an idea how the
sequence of interments is determined. Many years ago the writer
tabulated the sequences in all the Derbyshire (including the
Staffordshire) barrows containing more than one interment each, of
which reliable information was obtainable. When those associated with
vessels, other than cinerary urns, were classified, some significant
results were obtained. The distribution of the vessels was as follows:
Twenty-nine drinking-cups, all associated with unburnt interments;
Sixty-five food-vases, of which forty-eight were associated with
unburnt and seventeen with burnt interments, but none of these in
cinerary urns; and
Eleven incense-cups, all with burnt interments, and nearly all in
cinerary urns.
It is a question whether the smaller food-vases associated with the
burnt interments should not be classed as incense-cups, as the two
forms often approximate; but this does not vitiate the general results.
That this table represents a sequence is proved by the fact that in
no barrow containing a number of interments has one associated with a
drinking-cup been found under conditions to suggest that it may have
been of _later_ introduction than a neighbouring food-vase or cinerary
urn, nor is there an example of a food-vase interment _succeeding_ an
inurned one; whereas the contrary has frequently been noted.
If we apply the test of horizontal position, we find that, compared
with the other interments, a much larger proportion of those with
drinking-cups were central, while those in urns were as markedly
lateral, indicating that the first were predominantly primary
interments, and the last secondary. But the vertical position gives
even more definite results. The normal position of a primary interment
is on or _below_ the old natural surface; that of a secondary, on or
_above_ that level.
The following table gives the percentages of these positions when
ascertainable:—
Interments with Below. On. Above natural level.
Drinking-cups 83 17 0
Food-vessels 43 31 26
Cinerary urns 36.5 36.5 27
It will be observed that in descending order the proportion of those
_below_ the natural level decreases, and of those _above_ increases,
the inference being that the ratio of primary to secondary interments
decreases.
These groups are further differentiated by the implements and other
objects associated with them. These are, as a rule, more numerous in
the drinking-cup interments and least so in the inurned. The flint
implements of the former are usually the more carefully wrought. Two
other peculiarities of the drinking-cup interments may be noted. With
five of them was an instrument described as a mesh-rule or a modelling
tool, made from the rib of some animal; but these instruments have not
been found with other Bronze Age interments in the county. The other
peculiarity is that in all these interments, the body, when it has
been recorded, lay on its left side. Both these peculiarities are also
characteristic of the drinking-cup interments of Staffordshire.
From these various data it is evident that very early in the Bronze Age
inhumation was the normal mode of sepulture. The body, probably clad
in the clothing of life, was laid on its side in a contracted attitude
on the natural surface or in a grave, with or without a fencing or
protection of some sort, which in its highest development took the
form of a cist. Food was certainly often, if not invariably, placed
with it; but all we know of this, as also any other articles which
were present, are the less perishable portions that have survived the
withering hand of Time—the bronze blade of a dagger-knife, the head
of an axe, or the flint point of an arrow. Now and again a vessel of
clay was also placed with the deceased—the vessel familiar to us as the
“drinking-cup.” Later, but still early in the age, and while as yet the
mode of burial was unchanged, this gave place to the food-vase. Whether
this vessel was derived from the former is uncertain. Derbyshire
provides no intermediate forms, and this seems to be general throughout
the country. But the period of transition may have been short, and
transitional forms may yet be forthcoming.
We have guardedly spoken of inhumation as the _normal_ mode of
sepulture at this early period, for cremation was both known and
practised, perhaps from the very first. The occasional presence of
a deposit of burnt human bones with these contracted interments has
already been noticed. Whether, as was then suggested, it represents
the immolation of a slave on the occasion of the burial or not, there
is little doubt that it should be regarded as a subordinate feature,
and the skeleton, as the interment proper. Fire certainly played an
important part in these early funerals, as the frequent presence of a
little charcoal indicates. Why? We can only guess. It must have had a
religious import—the ceremonial purification of the grave, perhaps; and
this might well have now and again included a human sacrifice.
There is little doubt that the drinking-cup was introduced from the
Continent,[25] and one is tempted to connect its introduction with
the brachycephalic newcomers, as also the introduction of bronze.
The immigration seems to have been of a peaceful nature, and however
much the powerfully-built “round-heads” may have influenced and even
dominated the native population, they were numerically only a small
element in it, and were ultimately—perhaps before the close of the
Bronze Age—absorbed by it.
[25] _Journal_, Anthropological Institute, 1902.
Before the food-vase ran its course, cremation, in the proper sense of
the term, made its appearance, and soon became the general fashion.
Perhaps it would be going too far to say that it _supplanted_
inhumation. For anything we know to the contrary, the latter still
continued in vogue in some parts of the country to the Roman period.
At first, it would seem, the cremated remains were deposited in cists,
or otherwise entombed after the manner of unburnt bodies; but soon
the more appropriate cinerary urn made its appearance, as also the
changeful and enigmatical little incense-cup. That the cinerary urn
was derived from the food-vase is almost beyond doubt, for although
Derbyshire has not supplied examples bridging the two, vessels of
intermediate form and associated with burnt remains, but not containing
them, have been found in the north.
Meanwhile, the objects placed with the dead became fewer and more
meagre in character, until at length they were reduced to little more
than fragments of flint, representing a rite, perhaps, with a lost
meaning. Less care was expended on the sepulchral vessels as time went
on, but the delicacy of some of the incense-cups proves that this was a
rule with exceptions. The general trend of evidence goes to show that
the later mounds raised over the dead were smaller and less stereotyped
in form than those of old. Ringed barrows and the smaller “circles”
are associated with cremated interments, especially those of the
cinerary-urn stage, in Derbyshire.
“Late” Prehistoric Barrows.
The interval between the last barrows and the Roman period presents
many difficulties to the student of the ancient sepulchral remains
of Derbyshire. A few—barely two dozen—barrows have been opened in
the county which had certain features in common that markedly
differentiated them from those of the Bronze Age on the one hand and
from the post-Roman or Anglo-Saxon on the other. Some of these, perhaps
most, can certainly be assigned to this interval; and of the rest,
several seem to as conclusively belong to the Roman period. As these
differ much from the typical Romano-British barrows, they may be held
to prove that the Romanization of the natives of the district was a
slow and retarded process. From the extremely ruined condition of these
barrows and their usually meagre contents it is only by comparing them
together, and especially with the larger number of the same type in
the adjacent parts of Staffordshire, that anything conclusive can be
learned of their original characteristics.
The mounds are sometimes of considerable size, and are wholly or
largely built up of fine materials, as earth, clay, sand, and
gravel; and if large stones enter into their composition, they are
not intermixed with the finer constituents, but form a platform or
pavement, a layer, or a capping. Occasionally they disclose the curious
constructional feature of two or more different materials arranged
in alternate layers. Such a barrow was opened at Gorsey Close,[26]
near Tissington, in 1845; its soil was found to be interspersed with
alternate layers of moss and grass. Another at Roylow,[27] near Sheen,
gave very similar results. It is also noticeable that these barrows are
often found in comparatively low-lying places.
[26] _Vestiges_, 80.
[27] _Proc._ Soc. Ant., 1895.
In every known instance, the interment over which the mound was
raised had undergone cremation, and this applies to the few secondary
interments which have been noticed. The bodies had invariably been
burned on the spot, and the hard-baked floors, strewn with charcoal and
ashes, are a notable feature of these “late” barrows. The excessive
heat of the funeral pile has so completely reduced the bones that they
have often escaped detection altogether. There is reason to think that
these calcined remains were sometimes left as they were deposited by
the fire; but in a few instances they were found occupying a shallow
circular hole in the natural surface into which they had been swept
after the fire was extinguished. This may have been a common practice,
for the presence of a small depression of the kind might easily be
overlooked by the explorer. On the other hand, there was evidence
that in some of these barrows the human ashes had been collected and
placed near the summit of the mound; and the large stones which have
occasionally been observed in this position may have been the relics of
the receptacle which contained them. We thus seem to have a “low-level”
and a “high-level” type, but whether this indicates a difference of
period is by no means certain. The general trend of evidence shows
that some effort was made to seal down, so to speak, the site of the
pyre and its contents by a layer of puddled clay or earth, which was
hardened by a fire upon it, or by a layer of large stones instead.
The articles associated with the interments, or, rather, the sites
of the piles, consist mostly of potsherds and rude implements and
chippings of flint, which are usually described as burnt. The potsherds
appear in every case to have been introduced as _potsherds_, and they
also appear to have belonged to the ordinary domestic vessels of the
time. That the introduction of these and the flints, together with
the pebbles which have occasionally been observed, had a religious
significance can hardly be questioned; and doubtless it is to this
custom, which was widespread and not confined to our shores, that the
passage in _Hamlet_ refers, anent the burial of Ophelia, that “sherds,
flints, and pebbles should be thrown on her.” Ophelia was supposed to
have perished by her own hands, and this pagan rite, reversed under the
Christian _regime_ into a symbol of execration, was deemed more fitting
in such a case than “charitable prayers.”
Other objects than these rarely occur in these barrows, and they mostly
relate to the personal attire of the deceased. Two bronze daggers and
a pin, and a bone pin or two, have been found—all burnt; but the most
remarkable “find” consisted of twenty-eight convex bone objects, marked
with dots and described as draughtsmen, and two ornamented bone combs,
which also had passed through the fire. Fragments of iron, a coin of
the lower Empire, and the upper stone of a quern, have also been found.
The coin is a valuable link in the chain of evidence as to the age of
these barrows. It was found associated with wheel-made potsherds and
calcined bones on the site of the funeral pile, under a small mound,
near Mininglow, under conditions which left no room for doubt that
it had passed through the fire with the body and the potsherds. The
terms in which the potsherds found in these barrows are invariably
described, as “wheel-made,” “hard,” “firmly-baked,” “compact,” and
“Romano-British,” all suggest the period of the Roman occupation or
its near approach. Querns and the use of iron are admittedly of late
introduction. The bone combs referred to above have a distinct Iron Age
_facies_. The two bronze dagger-blades, one of which was found in the
earth extension of the smaller Mininglow chambered cairn, are both of
later type than those associated with the Bronze Age burials.
On the other hand, a notable “find” near Throwley,[28] in
Staffordshire, provided a link between these “late” barrows and the
inurned interments of the Bronze Age. The barrow there, “wholly
composed of earth of a burnt appearance throughout,” was of the
“low-level” type previously referred to, and its cremated deposit was
in a circular depression in the natural soil. Among the burnt bones
were two pieces of flint and a quartz pebble; below them, the shoulder
blade of some large animal; while resting upon them were a small
bronze pin and “a very beautiful miniature vase of the incense-cup
type, ornamented with chevrons and lozenges, and perforated in two
places at one side.” This is the only complete vessel hitherto recorded
as from these “late” barrows of the two counties, and in its shape,
decoration, and other particulars it is a thoroughly typical Bronze
Age incense-cup. The circular depression was “of well-defined shape,
resulting from contact with a wooden or wicker-work vessel, in which
the bones were placed when buried, the vestiges of which in the form of
impalpable black powder intervened between the bones and the earth.”
Clearly, we have here a wooden or a basket-work equivalent of the
cinerary urn. It is probable that these circular holes were generally
similarly provided with such receptacles, for in another example, under
a barrow of the type we are considering, at Cold Eaton,[29] there were
indications that its contents had been “deposited in a shallow basket
or similar perishable vessel.” It was from this interment that the
bone draughtsmen and combs already alluded to were obtained, as also
some fragments of iron. It is interesting that in two barrows which
resemble one another too closely to be dissociated by more than a
short lapse of time, there should be objects which, _per se_, would be
relegated to two different archæological ages, for apart from the iron,
the combs were of a type found with Late-Celtic, Romano-British, and
even Anglo-Saxon remains. The inference, therefore, is that these two
barrows belonged to the overlap of the Bronze and Pre-Roman Iron Ages.
[28] _Ten Years’ Diggings_, 130.
[29] _Ten Years’ Diggings_, 179.
If the various conclusions which have been arrived at in the preceding
pages are correct, Derbyshire is fortunate in her sepulchral remains
illustrating the succession of burial customs from Neolithic to Roman
times without a serious break. But there is still a difficulty to be
faced. The barrows which we have classed as of the Bronze Age are
usually ascribed to the Earlier Bronze Age, upon the evidence of the
bronze implements associated with their interments. While the socketed
axe, which is characteristic of the Later Bronze Age, is perhaps found
in greater abundance than all its forerunners put together, it has
rarely, _if ever_, been found in association with these interments.[30]
But this proves nothing, when it is considered that it has never been
found with any _other interments_. The earlier forms of the axe have
occurred, but only sparingly, with the drinking-cup and food-vase
interments; but of the hundred or more recorded inurned interments of
Derbyshire and the adjacent parts of Staffordshire, not one has yielded
a bronze axe of any kind, and this appears to be generally the case
throughout the country. These inurned interments certainly succeeded
them, so there is no reason to doubt that they represent the Later
Bronze Age among our sepulchral remains.
[30] _British Barrows_, 44; Evans’ _Bronze Implements_, 473.
Having brought the burial customs and remains of our ancient
predecessors in Derbyshire well within the bounds of authentic history,
we here conclude. The few remains of Roman sepulture, and the many and
varied burials of the early Anglo-Saxon period, are outside the scope
of this article, and would involve many pages to adequately describe
them.
THE PREHISTORIC STONE CIRCLES OF DERBYSHIRE
By W. J. Andrew, F.S.A.
Scattered over the world, from India to Peru, from Southern Africa to
Northern Europe, wherever it may be, the megalithic circle marks a
grade in the advance of civilization, for it is man’s earliest attempt
at geometrical architecture. As such, although so uniform in design,
its age must vary by thousands of years, according to the intelligent
progression of the early inhabitants of the country in which it is
present. Old as our stone circles seem to us, those on the shores of
the Mediterranean were probably grey with antiquity when ours were
yet unbuilt; indeed, so far as the old world is concerned, it may be
assumed that the megalithic monuments of the British Isles are amongst
the latest in date.
The circle is but an elaboration of a monolith surrounded by stones.
There is, however, every indication that it was introduced into this
country after it had passed through all its stages of evolution and
assumed its final form. Its builders made their way hither from the
south, spreading more especially over Spain, Brittany and Denmark on
the mainland, and on arriving upon our southern coasts, branching
northward through England and Scotland, even to the Orkneys, on the
one side, and by sea to Ireland and the Western Hebrides on the other.
Thus the date of its advent must have been subsequent to the mastery
of navigation. It has been assumed that because Stonehenge represents
the finished design, it must be the latest of our English examples,
and, therefore, the evolution of those rude, and often unhewn,
monuments of which so many examples have weathered more than two
thousand winters on the high-lands of the Peak. But the very opposite
proposition probably represents the truth. In the whole of our isles
there is no other example of a trilithic design, so the theory of local
evolution must fail. On the other hand, we trace it without a fault
from India, through Arabia, along the north coast of Africa, in Malta
and Minorca, and finally on the coast of Brittany, on its way to this
island. Again, the curious architectural joint of mortice and tenon,
which is so interesting a feature of Stonehenge, is unknown here, but
present in the trilithons of the Mediterranean shores.
[Illustration: Arbor Low: General View of the Southern Half.]
We may, therefore, infer that the builders of Stonehenge were of a
race which originally came from the south, and that the monument was
erected under the direction of men who had seen or had, at least, been
thoroughly instructed in the architecture of the earlier trilithons.
This was their work, but after them came the copyist and the invariable
deterioration. A parallel case is that of the introduction of the art
of coinage into this country about B.C. 200. It found its way to us
over nearly the same route, and in its earliest stages was, therefore,
an imitation of the Greek and Phœnician money then current; but
before many years had passed many of the designs had degenerated into
conventional figures, often of a distinctive character, yet evolved
by the exaggeration of some minor detail upon the prototype. Another
comparison may be made with the customs of burial about the period we
are considering. At first the useful and valuable flint implements
of the deceased were, with a praiseworthy unselfishness, interred or
cremated with his remains; but later, this sometimes became a mere
matter of ceremony, and it was thought sufficient to substitute flint
chippings for these offerings.
Assuming Stonehenge to be the prototype of our rude stone circles,
it may be well to remember its general features, and particularly
the dimensions of its plan. Its architecture consisted of an outer
circle of ditch and earthen bank of an approximate diameter of three
hundred feet, broken at the entrance from the north-east, where the
banks are continued in that direction, and form an avenue of approach
fifty feet in breadth. Within was a concentric circle one hundred feet
in diameter, of upright stones supporting a continuous lintel. These
stones are roughly squared, and the pillars now measure about fourteen
feet above ground, whilst the lintels are about eleven and a half feet
long. Ten feet within was a minor concentric circle of pillar stones,
a few feet in height, arranged in pairs. Again, within were five huge
trilithons arranged in the plan of a horse-shoe with a diameter of
about fifty feet, and composed of stones similar in form to those of
the outer peristyle, but varying in height to nearly twenty-five feet
above the turf; one stone, for example, measuring, when exposed by
excavation, twenty-nine feet eight inches in length. Finally, within
the whole is the “altar-stone,” some sixteen feet by four, lying prone
and within a broken, or horse-shoe shaped ellipse of a diameter of
forty feet, composed of pillar stones about five or six feet high.
Without the whole, and at a distance of two hundred and fifty feet from
the centre, is a monolith, or “pointer,” sixteen feet high, known as
the Friar’s Heel. It stands to the north-east and a fraction to the
south of a line drawn from the altar-stone along the centre of the
avenue. Another stone, now fallen, lies on the line just within the
enclosure.
From this very superficial description it will be noticed that there is
a certain geometrical proportion to scale. The diameter of the outer
bank is three times that of the peristyle, which, in turn, is twice
that of the trilithons. The space betwen the peristyle and the outer
bank equals the diameter of the former. The diameter of the outer
circle of small pillar stones is twice that of the inner ellipse of
pillar stones, and the distance of the Friar’s Heel from the peristyle
is twice the diameter of the latter. Even admitting a wide margin
for inaccuracy, the impression must remain that there is ground for
the suspicion that some attempt at a decimal system prevailed in the
general plan of this mysterious monument.
These proportions are so obvious that it seems unlikely that they have
escaped the attention of those who have studied the plan of Stonehenge.
It was not, however, in relation to the great monument of the south
that a possible system of geometrical mensuration suggested itself;
but in the survey of our own hill-circles of Derbyshire, when it
appealed so forcibly to observation that it prompted a reference to the
prototype for possible confirmation.
No other county in England is so prolific in prehistoric circles as
that of Derby. Many, probably, are still undiscovered, for the writer
has been able to add several to the list. Yet at least twenty can be
visited with the assistance of an Ordnance map, another dozen have
disappeared in modern times, but are recorded by old authorities,
and, no doubt, as many more lie hidden by the heather on our
little-frequented moors. All are in the north-west quarter of the
county, within a space of less than twenty miles square, and at an
altitude of not less than a thousand feet.
Although differing much in dimensions and details, there was a common
purpose, and consequently there is a uniform character in all.
Commencing with the smallest, and measuring the diameters from stone
to stone, we find: (1) a plain circle of standing stones, ten feet
across, and with either a single stone or heap of stones at a short
distance outside the circle, which, for convenience of reference, may
be called the “pointer”; (2) similar, but with a diameter of twenty
feet, and an encircling mound, or vallum, of earth, in the inner edge
of which the stones are usually set; (3) the same, but with diameters
of thirty, forty, sixty, eighty, one hundred, and one hundred and
fifty feet. It is probable that, originally, all had a cromlech of
some description in the centre, or, as at Ford, a small circle in the
north-eastern quarter. At Park Gate this remains as a central cone of
stones; at Arbor Low as three great stones, which, with the rest, have
fallen; on Offerton Moor it was four stones, and at the Wet Withens a
single stone. Outside the circle at Arbor Low is a raised causeway of
earth extending in a curved line from the circle towards its artificial
mound, Gib Hill, a thousand feet away, which once it probably joined.
At Stadon a similar causeway leaves the circle, but returns to it again
in the form of the lower half of a triangle, and at the Wet-Withens Mr.
Trustram called attention to the remains of what was, very possibly, an
avenue of stones arranged in parallel lines at equal distances towards
the south-west. These alignments must be considered with reference to
the avenue at Stonehenge.
The circles are never present on the actual summit of a hill, but are
almost invariably on the hillside near the highest point. Hence on one
side they have a sharp and near horizon and on the other a distant
view. All have, or presumably have had, a “pointer” outside the circle;
that is, an artificial mound of earth or stones or a smaller circle to
the larger examples, and a single upright stone to the smaller.
It will have been noticed that the diameters of the circles have
evidently been planned according to a geometrical scale, of which
the unit seems to have been equivalent to ten feet of our measure. A
reference, for example, to the plan of Arbor Low will again demonstrate
this point. The average diameter of the circle of the stones is one
hundred and fifty feet, the width of the fosse is twenty feet, and
that of the vallum on the ground level is thirty feet, and its height
above the _excavated_ fosse is ten feet; the total diameter of the
monument is two hundred and fifty feet, and Gib Hill, its pointer,
stands one thousand feet away south-west by west. But the stones at
Arbor Low, and, indeed, those of all the other examples, do not form
a true circle; there is always an elliptical variation. At Arbor Low
this variation is about ten feet; at the Wet-Withens it is only three
or four feet. At the former there are in the centre three fallen
stones, which in all probability formed a dolmen, of which the capstone
measures fourteen feet in length; it may be assumed, therefore, that
its supporters occupied a space of about ten feet. At the Wet-Withens
we read that there was originally a single large stone in the centre,
which we may assume was not more than three or four feet in diameter.
If, therefore, the central cromlech was first erected, and the radius
of the circle of stones measured from its outside walls instead of from
the true centre, we have the probable explanation of the elliptical
variation in every case. The variation, in turn, should give us some
idea of the central cromlech when, as in so many instances, it has been
destroyed.
This suggestion is supported by another distinctive feature in the plan
of stone circles, of which, also, no explanation has been offered.
Nearly every circle has two entrances, or an entrance and exit, cut
through the mound, and when a fosse is present it is broken at the
causeways; but these entrances, although on opposite sides of the
circle, and usually towards the north and south, are never directly
opposite each other. If, therefore, the central cromlech was the
dominant purpose, the roadway would pass alongside it, and not have
to deviate around it, as it certainly would if it truly bisected the
circle.
The three principal examples in the county are Arbor Low, the Bull
Ring, and the Wet-Withens. Arbor Low is situate on the hillside, 1,200
feet above the sea, a mile to the east of Parsley Hay Station, eight
miles south-east from Buxton. It has been termed the Stonehenge of
the Midlands, and as a megalithic monument, the very grandeur of its
loneliness appeals to memories of the days of old and the race that is
gone. Its dimensions have already been given, but its general features
are a circular plateau, averaging about one hundred and sixty feet
in diameter, and surrounded by a broad fosse, enclosed, save at the
two entrances, within a high vallum of earth. In the centre of the
plateau are three limestone blocks, of which one is fourteen feet
in length, and another, now broken, about twelve feet by eight feet
six inches; these, before destruction, probably formed a dolmen, or
trilithon, similar to those of Stonehenge. Arranged around the edge of
the plateau, and seemingly in pairs, which also allows the possibility
of a trilithic formation, are forty-six similar stones, all, with one
exception, lying prone, and measuring from thirteen feet by six to
comparatively small dimensions—the exception referred to, however, lies
at a very low angle. They seem to have been selected from the _surface_
limestone of the district, which explains the many weathered and holed
stones amongst them; and it must be remembered that a holed stone has
always claimed a superstitious veneration. It is present in the circle
at Stennis, in our chambered barrows, and in the dolmens of France,
Russia, and India. The trilithons of Stonehenge may be its elaboration,
and in later times King Alfred caused the Danes to swear their treaty
according to their most solemn custom upon the holy ring. Even in
mediæval days the superstition connected with St. Wilfred’s Needle at
Ripon may probably have been but a survival of this archaic tradition.
Although not shaped in the usual sense of the word, some of the stones
at Arbor Low show indications of rough dressing, particularly at the
base, which was, no doubt, for the purpose of stability when they were
originally set upright. That once they were erect there can be no
doubt, for it is essential to a stone circle that they should be so
placed. As they lie, it will be noticed that, with very few exceptions,
the top of every stone points to the centre of the plateau, whereas
the natural fall of the stones would be towards the ditch, on the edge
of which they were placed, for their foundations on that side would be
the weaker. The obvious explanation must be that they were pulled down
by ropes, and as the vallum would impede the process on the outside,
it followed that the crowd of haulers necessarily required the full
width of the plateau, and so caused the stones to fall inwards, like
the radii of a circle. Similarly the central stones were hauled down in
a straight line with the entrance to the circle, which thus gave the
necessary leverage of length. When and by whom was this done? It is
unlikely that the Romans would interfere with customs which in no way
clashed with their own. When, however, the first waves of Christianity
passed over the land, and Christian stone crosses were erected
throughout our county, it is unlikely that the stone monuments of a
pagan race would be tolerated amongst them; and in the seventh century
an edict of the Church was passed in France exhorting the clergy to
stamp out the idolatry of stone-worship. In Northumbria, which country
then included the county of Derby, King Edwin, upon his conversion to
Christianity in A.D. 627, authorised Paulinus to destroy “the altars
and temples, _with the enclosures that were about them_,” at which he
had previously worshipped.[31]
[31] _Bede_, chap. xiii.
We may, therefore, assume that the great circle of Arbor Low was too
prominent a monument to be allowed to remain, but the lesser circles,
no longer frequented by the people, would pass unnoticed by the
Reformers; yet the circle on Harthill Moor, only four miles away, was
left standing, although some of its stones were nine or ten feet high,
and nine stones still stood a century ago, but now only four remain,
varying in height from about four feet to eight or nine feet. Perhaps
the late interment, discovered by Mr. St. George Gray during the
excavations at Arbor Low in 1902, may have dated from the time of its
destruction, for its selection as a place of sepulture would naturally
offend the tenets of a Christian people, and call attention to the
superstitions still associated with this mysterious monument. It was
not the first interment there, for built upon the vallum adjoining the
southern entrance are the remains of a large tumulus, which yielded
to Mr. Bateman, its excavator, urns of coarse clay and other evidence
of cremation, with relics of flint and bone. Again, the summit of the
great mound of its satellite, Gib Hill, had been selected for a similar
interment in the days before the shadow of mystery was cast over Arbor
Low.
The Bull Ring almost adjoins the modern church at Dove Holes, three and
a half miles north-north-west from Buxton. So far as the ground plan
of the circle is concerned, it is identical with that of Arbor Low,
save that the vallum is now, perhaps, not quite so high. No doubt it
is the work of the same architects, and originally contained a similar
arrangement of great stones. Unfortunately these were entirely removed
nearly two centuries ago for building purposes, and its very existence
is to-day threatened by approaching lime works. With the circle itself
its similarity to Arbor Low ends, for instead of lying on a northern
slope it faces south-east, hence as the natural conditions are varied,
so are its adjuncts. Instead of a high mound a thousand feet away,
its pointer is brought close to it, and, therefore, lower in height,
although a mound of about the same circumference; but its direction is
nearly the same, namely, to the south-west.
The Wet-Withens is on the northern slope of Eyam Moor, 1,002 feet above
sea-level, and is the best example of the type in which the fosse is
absent. To-day it is represented by a circular mound of earth, one
hundred and twenty feet in diameter, and about ten feet broad by two
feet six inches high, broken for the entrances in the usual positions,
namely, due south and nearly north. Set in the inner margin of the
mound remain ten stones of millstone grit, most of which are upright,
and probably fifteen or sixteen originally completed the arrangement,
and some may be hidden by the heather. They stand at nearly equal
distances, but the largest only measures, as exposed above the turf,
four feet three inches long, one foot nine inches broad, and nine
inches deep. It has already been mentioned that a monolith once stood
in the centre, and there is still a considerable depression in the
ground whence it was excavated—for the hand of the quarryman has
been ruthless amongst the prehistoric monuments of our county. Forty
feet due north of the circle are the remains of a great cairn, or
tumulus, with a base seventy feet by forty feet, composed entirely
of stones averaging over a foot in length. This may have served the
purpose of the pointer, or, like the tumulus on the vallum at Arbor
Low, may merely have been a sepulchral mound, for it also yielded a
half-baked urn containing cremated remains and a flint arrow-head. If
Mr. Trustram’s theory be correct, the stone-marked avenue leads to the
south-west, and thus conforms with the pointers of Arbor Low and the
Bull Ring; also with the general direction of the avenue or causeway of
the former.
The relative position of these three circles is certainly curious.
They form an inverted isosceles triangle, of which the base line from
the Wet-Withens to the Bull Ring is nearly due east and west; to be
accurate, it is almost the true magnetic orientation, and the apex at
Arbor Low is due south. The Ordnance map discloses the length of the
base line to be nine miles, and that of each of the sides ten miles;
in fact, the compasses pivoted in the centre of Arbor Low bisect both
the circles of the Bull Ring and Wet-Withens. It is needless to remark
that the megalithic builders had not the knowledge nor the appliances
to measure distances otherwise than on the ground level; but as the
valleys run north and south, and the line east to west is therefore
much more broken and undulating, it is not impossible that there was
a measured intention to construct these three circles as nearly as
possible in the form of an equilateral triangle, of which the circle
of Arbor Low was to be due south, according to the sun’s then apparent
meridian. Indeed, it is an interesting question of fact whether, if
measured on the ground level, these three circles would not prove to be
equidistant one from another.
Reduce the compasses to the equivalent to eight miles, and a series of
coincidences follows. They exactly span Arbor Low and Stadon; Arbor Low
and an unmarked circle near Park Gate on East Moor; the latter and the
double circle on Abney Moor, and, again, the same circle and two others
on Brassington Moor; the Nine Ladies on Stanton Moor and the circle on
Froggatt Edge; that on the Bar Brook and the most northern of the two
on Bamford Moor; the southern circle on Bamford Moor and the double
circle on the Ford estate near Chapel-en-le-Frith; the latter and the
circle on Abney Moor, and so on, until it would seem to be worth one’s
while to follow the eight miles radius from any given circle in search
of its colleague. If there is any variation in the distances quoted
above, it is so slight as to be scarcely perceptible on the one-inch
scale Ordnance map. This is, at the least, tentative evidence of that
careful system of mensuration which seems to pervade the mystery of
these interesting memorials.
[Illustration: Arbor Low: General View of the Southern and Western
Part.]
The triangular arrangement of the three chief circles calls attention
to that of Stadon, situate a mile and a quarter south-east from Buxton.
Its stones, like those of its neighbour, the Bull Ring, have been
confiscated, and for centuries, perhaps, it yielded to the plough;
nevertheless, its mounds, though almost levelled, are quite distinct,
and disclose a plan probably unique in its design. It comprises an
annular vallum, forming three-quarters of a circle, the fourth quarter
being straight-sided for one hundred feet, and from the corners of this
side expand two straight causeways or mounds for a distance of about
one hundred and, presumably, one hundred and twenty feet respectively,
when they then turn at an acute angle and unite in a straight line, of
probably one hundred and twenty feet, almost parallel to the side of
the circle. Thus they form the base of an isosceles triangle, bisected
horizontally by the straight side of the circle. Unfortunately, the
south-west corner of the base line is now cut off by the London and
North Western Railway line from Buxton to Ashbourne, and therefore its
measurements can only be estimated. If continued, the apex of this
triangle would correspond with the nearest quarter of the horizon,
namely, on the ridge of Stadon Hill at a point nearly due east. On
the inside of the mounds, both of the circle and of the triangular
adjunct, are indications of a ditch, and the usual entrances are north
by west and south-east respectively. The average width of the circle
from the outside of the mounds is now two hundred feet, but owing to
the straight side it is subjected to more than the usual elliptical
variation; the width of the mounds and ditch are twelve and ten feet
respectively. These latter dimensions probably indicate that originally
it must have had a fosse and vallum of no mean importance. One hundred
and twenty feet north-by-east from the circle seems to be the base
of what was probably a large mound or “pointer,” about forty feet by
twenty feet, but this also has been levelled.
Although lacking the grandeur of Arbor Low, the small circles have
an interest only secondary to it in any attempt to determine cause
from effect. Many of them, fortunately, have suffered from the hand
of time alone, and are to-day as the race that is gone left them. No
better examples could be desired than some in the Baslow district,
particularly that near Park Gate; but those by the Bar Brook and on
Froggatt Edge are nearly as well preserved, and the double circle at
Ford is perfect.
Selecting the Nine Ladies on Stanton Moor as a typical example, its
description will suffice for its class. A circular vallum ten feet wide
and two feet high at the crest, with diameter varying from forty-five
to fifty feet, measured from its outer edge, and broken for the
usual entrances, which, however, in this instance are east-by-north
and south-west. Within the inner margin of the mound are arranged
nine stones, all, with one exception, still upright, and the largest
measuring, above the heather, three feet high, two feet three inches
broad, and nine inches deep. In 1848 there was a cone of stones in the
centre, but this has been destroyed; the Park Gate circle, however,
shows this in a complete form. Exactly at a distance of one hundred
feet west by south of the circle stands a single stone as the pointer,
measuring above the turf thirty inches high, twenty-two wide, and
eleven deep. It is known as “The King Stone,” and the nine stones of
the circle have given the name of “The Nine Ladies” to the monument as
a whole. This is, of course, a complimentary variant of the general
term “maidens” so often applied to the stones of circles in all parts
of the country, and for which so many derivations have been offered.
A circle of this class which has hitherto escaped observation has
an interesting deviation from the usual lines. It stands 1,050 feet
above sea level on the hillside at Cadster, near Whaley Bridge, but
in Chapel-en-le-Frith parish. Its vallum has an elliptical diameter,
varying from thirty-five to forty feet, with entrances north-north-east
and south-west. The stones are of the same arrangement and size as
those of The Nine Ladies, and the diameter of their circle varies from
thirty feet to thirty-three feet six inches. The centre is nearly
level, but some large stones below the turf may have supported a
monolith, which, perhaps, was a large pointed stone, measuring four
feet long, two feet six inches wide, and one foot deep, now lying at
the foot of the vallum. Ninety feet nearly south by west of the circle,
almost prostrate, is the “pointer,” a block of millstone grit measuring
three feet six inches high, two feet six inches broad, and two feet
deep. In these particulars the monument closely resembles the last
described, but it lies on a hillside with a declination to the west of
one in ten, and to obtain the required plane for the western vallum and
stones, the builders have lowered the height of the vallum on the east
to about one foot high, and raised that on the west to four feet. Hence
it is nearly, but not quite, level. Although there is a very extensive
view to the north-west, the horizon is within two or three hundred
yards on the north and east. A line of sight taken over the stones
west and east within the circle exactly touches the eastern horizon,
where there is a small artificial mound of stones, and this system of
levelling the vallum and stones of a circle to the plane of the horizon
seems to be general, and is especially in evidence at Ford.
For the purpose of these notes, and to ascertain that the vallum had
not been raised by an interment, a partial excavation has been made. A
narrow trench cut from east to west disclosed that the entire monument
is composed of loose stones, seemingly hand-laid, upon the natural
soil. On the west side the raising of the vallum was an example of
careful and permanent work. Commencing from the outside there was a
foundation of large stones sloping inwards, and acting as a retaining
wall for the stones above, and a similar foundation marked the inside
margin. In the centre of the vallum was a core of stones about two
feet high leaning towards each other, and filled in with horizontal
stones, thus forming the base of a solid triangle. Above this the loose
stones were built up to the required height and form. An examination
of some of the principal stones of the circle disclosed that they
were supported by or resting upon others of large size. As it was not
desirable to disturb more than was necessary to disclose the general
construction, and to remove turf which had overgrown some of the
pillars, a very small proportion of the whole was searched, and this
did not yield a single relic of the work of man.
So far, we have dealt with the effect of circles as we see them; let us
look to the cause. Imagine an agricultural people without any knowledge
of the seasons or months of the year, save from the gradual changes
from cold to warm weather, and from long to short days; without the
means of estimating the length of the latter, and without even the
power of numbering the years or knowing whether they themselves were
young or old, for except, perhaps, in the calm pools of water, their
very appearance would be strange to them. A few treacherously warm days
in December, and they would sow their corn to the winds. Preparation
for winter needs or summer work would be impossible, and all would
end in famine and waste—all would be confusion. No wonder that, like
nature, they turned to the sun—the almanac of all time. No wonder their
chief astronomer became the chief priest of the tribe. So is it to-day
with uncivilized races of mankind. So, also, is the superstition of
astrology in civilized races but a survival of the days when the seer
alone cast his horoscope and foretold to the people the coming of the
seasons, the time for preparation and all that was necessary for their
continued existence. Sun worship followed, and religion and astronomy
were blended for ages to come.
Sir Norman Lockyer and the late Mr. Penrose have scientifically
demonstrated the relation of Stonehenge with the rising of the sun
over the Friar’s Heel at the summer solstice, where tradition still
gathers people together on the morn of Midsummer day; but it is with
the more primitive and varied circles of our hilly county that we are
concerned, and these may be treated, as indeed they probably were by
their designers, in a more primitive method.
We read a sundial from the outside, and therefore the gnomon is in the
centre and the numerals are on the outside. If, however, we stood in
the centre of a vast dial, a series of gnomons would be required to
replace the numerals. This is the stone circle. As a primitive example,
the Cadster circle will suffice for its class. When the circle was
constructed, the “pointer,” instead of being a point to the west of
south as it is now, a variation owing to the obliquity of the earth’s
axis, stood exactly due south; therefore the seer, sighting from the
point of the central monolith, knew that when the sun was directly over
it the time was mid-day—the greater distance assisting the accuracy.
Similarly the east stone is now a point to the southward, so when the
sun rose over the horizon in line with it and the central monolith, it
was the May festival, and so on for every phase of the sun. Obviously,
the northern stones would be useless for this purpose; but the object
of the vallum was to enable the line of sight to be also taken across
the circle from the outside, and over _any_ stone and the central
dial, or over any two stones, thus subdividing the then equivalent to
the hours and the months. The slope of the vallum lent itself to any
level required by the observer whilst taking his observations, and the
entrances enabled the people to pass through the circle to make their
obeisance, whilst the arch-astrologer stood by the central monolith
giving his instructions and advice. To them his simple predictions
would seem to be the greatest of miracles. As the “pointer” is not
always in a southerly or northerly position, for the latter would
serve the same purpose if the point of observation were transposed,
it follows that various monuments were dedicated to or were specially
required for various seasons or times; the winter or summer solstice
and the spring or autumn equinox being the most popular. The points of
the stones would be accurately notched or, perhaps, surmounted with a
wooden stile or pierced disc.
In the larger circles the same system would be carried out with greater
accuracy. The ditch and vallum enabled the sights to be taken from
either the foot or the top of the stones, and the mound would, if
required, itself form the horizon. The ditch was certainly not for any
processional ceremony, for that at Arbor Low was found to be broken
across by faces of natural rock three or four feet in height; but
the curved causeway leading towards the great pointer, Gib Hill, may
have served that purpose when the seer left the circle to take his
observations, and probably to invoke the rising sun from the mound. The
central dolmen would be the inner temple of the priest, and the greater
distance of the circle of stones would increase the accuracy of his
observations.
Let those who question this simple origin for these circles study any
one of them with as many or as few scientific instruments as they wish;
then, after allowing for the variation of the obliquity, nature’s
almanac is there to be read within the oldest astronomical observatory
known to man.
A word as to the age of the circles. Sir Norman Lockyer deduced from
the variation of the obliquity in relation to the avenue and the
Friar’s Heel at Stonehenge, that the temple must have been erected
about the year 1680 B.C., or within a margin of 200 years of that date.
Professor Gowland, as the result of the excavations conducted by him
in 1901, arrived at practically the same period, when he inferred that
it was constructed by “the men of the Neolithic or, it may be, of the
early Bronze Age.”
The assumption in these pages is that Stonehenge was the first and not
the last of its series. If that be correct, it follows that the design
must have been introduced by the new race, that of the Bronze Age,
when they invaded this country from the south. The Neolithic tribes had
been here for thousands of years before B.C. 1500, and it is unlikely
that they, to whom metal was unknown, attained the architectural
skill to erect a colossal and uniform temple. It is true that with
one possible exception no trace of metal was found during the recent
excavations at either Stonehenge or Arbor Low; but on the other hand,
all the interments (with again one exception, and that of late date)
found in circles are of the Bronze Age. These interments, of which one
instance was in a small circle on Stanton Moor, do not necessarily
indicate any sepulchral purpose for these monuments, but rather suggest
that sometimes the priest himself would be laid to rest in the shrine
of his order. Again, the general character of the numerous tumuli
usually surrounding the momuments is of the Bronze period, and there
seems to be some affinity between the “cup and ring” designs of the
rock carvings and the plan of these circles. One fact is certain—that
as a class they are not of any later times, for upon the vallum of
Arbor Low stands the great “low” which yielded clear evidence of a
burial of one who worked with bronze, and similar proof was furnished
by the discovery of a like interment in the summit of Gib Hill.
It does not, however, follow that our Derbyshire circles date from
the commencement of the Bronze Age; it is more probable that some of
them are hundreds of years later than Stonehenge, and there is every
likelihood that their use was continued through the Roman even to early
Christian times, only to be stamped out when their original purpose
had been forgotten in their mystic pagan rites. There is evidence that
the great circles of the country were centres of native population at
the time of the coming of the Romans, for the roads of the invaders
were driven straight for them, as the maps of Avebury and Stonehenge in
the south, and of Arbor Low and the Bull Ring in our county, clearly
indicate. In the Anglo-Saxon language the phrase for astrology was
_circol-crœft_, and to-day the horoscope of the fortune-teller is but a
survival of our subject.
We who look upon these temples of a bye-gone people are still the
slaves of Time, and though we measure it with the science of to-day,
it is but a question of degree, for the cause and effect is still the
same. True, we no longer worship in the Temple of Time, but we can ill
afford to sneer at those who knew no better religion than the praise of
the heavenly bodies and the admiration of nature’s handiwork as viewed
over the distant scene. Nor can we pride ourselves in our science,
which for centuries has failed to read the story of these mystic signs,
which the rude workers in bronze could yet devise and set up, to—
“Observe days, and months, and times, and years.”
SWARKESTON BRIDGE
By William Smithard
The deservedly famous old bridge of Swarkeston situated a few miles
south of Derby, where in a beautiful verdant and fertile vale the noble
Trent sweeps towards the sea in a series of majestic curves.
The river, than which there are but two longer in the country, was of
old a convenient rough-and-ready dividing-line across the middle of
England; and the frequency with which the phrases “north of Trent” and
“south of Trent” were used, shows that the stream was a recognised and
familiar boundary to the monarchs and nobles who parcelled out shires
and counties for themselves or friends in the Middle Ages.
Its general direction is from west to east, but its course is made up
of large bends composed of small ones. In the first part of _King Henry
IV._, Act III., Scene I., Shakespeare makes Hotspur complain of the
windings of the Trent, thus:—
“Methinks my moiety, north from Burton here,
In quantity equals not one of yours:
See how the river comes me cranking in,
And cuts me from the best of all my land
A huge half-moon, a monstrous cantle out.
I’ll have the current in this place damm’d up;
And here the smug and silver Trent shall run
In a new channel, fair and evenly.”
It is not known where or how, if at all, the Romans permanently bridged
the Trent hereabouts; probably they were content with fords and
ferries. In the Middle Ages, however, several fine stone bridges were
erected over the river; there was a very long one of thirty-six arches
at Burton in the twelfth century, and most likely there would then be
no other between that town and Nottingham, some twenty miles distant.
At any rate, the first record we have of Swarkeston Bridge is in the
year 1276, and the oldest parts of it remaining—which appear to be the
original work—appertain to the thirteenth century.
Swarkeston is about eight miles below Burton, and the bridge, which
is nearly a mile in length, lies north and south. It takes its name
from the village of Swarkeston at its northern end, though most of the
bridge, being south of the Trent, is in the parish of Stanton, which
latter place is indebted to the bridge for the title that distinguishes
it from the multitude of Stantons elsewhere.
The portion of the structure which actually spans the Trent is a
shapely, well-designed and very substantial modern bridge on five round
arches, put up at the close of the eighteenth century; but the special
feature about Swarkeston Bridge is that, after crossing the river
proper, it is continued as a raised causeway right across the low-lying
meadows of the Trent valley. It is in this long causeway that all
interest centres, for there—although the bridge has been widened, and
at different times repaired and renewed incongruously—we have the true
route-line of the causeway, and much original work still remaining.
The necessity for this extension is very obvious to anyone who has
seen, as I have several times, the river in flood, when Hotspur’s
“smug and silver Trent” becomes a turbid, surging sea, many miles in
extent, completely covering all the meadows within range of vision.
The causeway is provided with culverts and archways to let the roaring
waters pass through at such periods.
[Illustration: Swarkeston Bridge.]
It has been conjectured, with some degree of probability, that the
Trent was first spanned by a bridge at Swarkeston to accommodate the
advance of King John’s army to the north towards the end of the year
1215. If this was the case, it must have been one of wooden piles,
provided it was erected in a hurry. A temporary erection of this kind,
in the place of a treacherous ford, would prove so useful that it would
soon be followed by one of stone. At all events, records show that a
bridge had been established here a long time before the accession of
Edward I. In 1276, when inquiries were made throughout the kingdom as
to exactions and irregularities during the much-troubled latter years
of Henry III., it is entered on the _Hundred Rolls_ that the merchants
of the soke of Melbourne had not for some three years paid toll for
passage over Swarkeston Bridge, which toll had been assigned by the
King to the borough of Derby.
Now and again, during the next century, apparently whenever the bridge
needed serious repair, the Crown diverted the toll from the town of
Derby and assigned it to local commissioners, as entered from time to
time on the _Patent Rolls_. On 12th January, 1325, when Edward II. was
at Melbourne, he granted, under privy seal to the bailiffs and good men
of the town of Swarkeston pontage (bridge toll) for three years for the
repair of the bridge across the Trent; the toll was to be taken by the
hands of William Grave, of Swarkeston, Richard de Swarkeston, Thomas
Davy, of Stanton, or their deputy, and the whole proceedings were to be
under the supervision of the Prior of Repton.
Before this time of three years had expired, namely, in December,
1327, Edward III., at the request of Robert de Stanton, granted to the
bailiffs and men of Stanton and Swarkeston pontage towards the repair
of the bridge between the two towns—it must have been considerably
damaged, possibly of set purpose during the baronial disturbances
towards the end of Edward II.’s reign—local commissioners being
nominated to receive the toll, and the Prior of Repton being again
appointed as supervisor.
In 1338 pontage for four years was again assigned for repair purposes
to the good men of Swarkeston. Eight years later the pontage was
granted for three years to the bailiffs and good men of the town of
Derby, to be taken by the hands of John, son of Adam de Melbourne the
elder, and John, son of Adam de Melbourne the younger, on things for
sale passing over Swarkeston Bridge, for the repair of the said bridge.
There is little more written history of the bridge than that here
cited, but it would not be right to omit the romantic legend as to its
origin, which is so widely current and so generally believed that it is
perhaps worthy of a qualified acceptance until some historical fact is
found to take its place. The legend bears the stamp of probability, and
it seems too good to be entirely an invention—at any rate, of modern
times.
Once upon a time, then, according to this dateless tradition, a large
and gay party was celebrating at Swarkeston Hall the betrothal of the
two daughters of the lord of the manor. Tilting, hunting, hawking,
and other mediæval sports had been enjoyed freely for several days,
when the festivities were abruptly disturbed by an urgent summons
for the lord of the manor and the two knightly lovers forthwith to
join an assembly of the barons who were engaged in a hot dispute
with a tyrannical King. Never, perhaps, did public spirit clash more
disagreeably with personal preference; but the call of national duty
was promptly answered.
At that time there was no Swarkeston Bridge, but in fair weather the
Trent could be forded quite easily, as it can now. I have, in a recent
summer, seen a foal walk across without wetting its knees; but the
route is devious, and the river at Swarkeston notoriously treacherous;
bright weedy shallows give way precipitately to great dark pools
difficult to fathom, and eddying whirlpools alternate with powerful
headlong currents of surprising swiftness.
Their task accomplished, runs the tale, the two knights set off for
Swarkeston at full speed, leaving the earl to return more leisurely
with his esquires and pages. In the meantime heavy rains had fallen,
and on reaching the Trent valley after sunset, the knights found the
green sward covered by surging muddy waters, through which, with true
lover-like ardour, they spurred their tired horses in the growing
darkness, unwilling, now so near, to let even such alarming floods
prevent their reunion with the fair ladies of their choice.
The level meadows were crossed safely, but in the gloom the gallant
knights either missed the ford across the river itself or were swept
off it by the raging torrent; by the cruellest of mischances they
were washed away and drowned within sight of the lighted windows of
the hall, where all their hopes lay, and which they had striven so
heroically to reach.
This tragic event was indeed a crushing blow for the earl and his
family, but out of private grief came public joy. The bereaved ladies,
so says the legend, looked on themselves as widows, and, in keeping
with the spirit of the times, devoted the rest of their lives to the
memory of their deceased lovers. Neither was their devotion mere
sentiment, but it took a thoroughly practical form; determined that no
one in future should suffer owing to the circumstances in which their
own keen sorrow had arisen, they devoted all their substance to the
building of the now historic bridge, and died in a cottage as poor as
the humblest peasant.
On the bridge there was formerly a chantry chapel. From an inquisition
held at Newark, October 26th, 1503, we learn that a parcel of meadow
land, valued at six marks a year, lying between the bridge and Ingleby,
had been given in early days to the priory of Repton, on the tenure of
supplying a priest to sing mass in the chapel on Swarkeston Bridge;
but that there was then no such priest nor had one been appointed for
the space of twenty years. (Add. MSS. 6,705, f. 65.)
The Church Goods Commissioners of 1552 say under Stanton:—
“We have a chappell edified and buylded upon Trent in ye mydest of
the streme anexed to Swerston bregge, the whiche had certayne stuffe
belongyng to it, ij desks to knele in, a table of wode, and certayne
barres of yron and glasse in the wyndos, whiche Mr. Edward Beamont
of Arleston hath taken away to his owne use, and we say that if the
Chappell dekeye the brydge wyll not Stonde.”
The report of the Commissioners shows that the chapel was evidently an
integral portion of one of the bridge piers, as was often the case, and
was probably coeval with its first building.
The chapel was demolished altogether when the spans over the river were
rebuilt in the eighteenth century, and there is now no trace of it
remaining, nor does there appear to be any drawing of the sacred place;
though, of course, anyone familiar with other such Gothic buildings can
easily picture for himself what this chapel would be like.
For six centuries has the bridge been a popular highway for all classes
of the community, and it is linked closely with at least two important
epochs in English history.
In the great Civil War of 1642–1646, the bridges at Nottingham,
Swarkeston, and Burton were regarded as the keys to the North. In
the winter of 1642–3, Col. Sir John Gell, the able commander of
the Derbyshire regiment, heard that the Royalists were fortifying
Swarkeston Bridge, so he marched thither, stormed the works and
dismantled the same, after driving away the enemy with a loss of seven
or eight killed and many wounded. The date of the “Battle of Swarsen
bridge” is given in the register of All Saints’, Derby, as 5th January,
1642–3. The towns of Nottingham and Burton, along with their bridges,
were taken and retaken several times during the war; but Derby was
never in the hands of the Royalists, and this immunity Sir John Gell
attributed to his having in his holding Swarkeston Bridge during the
whole of the troublous period.
At this bridge occurred also the climax of the latest invasion of
England, _i.e._, that by the “Young Pretender” in 1745. By the time
Charles Edward Stuart had reached Derby, he realised that his project
was hopeless. His army had increased scarcely at all since he left
Scotland, and his mountain warriors, who had marched all the way from
their native Grampians, found, when they got to the end of the Pennine
Chain, their way barred by the great plain of England. They never
crossed the Trent, and although their advance guard reached Swarkeston
Bridge, that was only a movement to kill time while the courageous
Highlanders braced themselves to endure the humiliation of a retreat.
The Prince had traversed half the length of England, only to find the
people were too prosperous and contented to wish to disturb the ruling
dynasty; and the King’s two armies, more powerful than his own, were
rapidly approaching the invader’s troops. So the 7,000 clansmen, with
their tartans and pipes, did not march over the bridge, and the people
of Swarkeston were thus deprived of a fine spectacle, doubtless much
to their relief. Since then the repose of the bridge has never been
disturbed by wars or rumours of wars.
The viaduct over the meadows is delightfully irregular, and its course
varies sympathetically with the neighbouring river. The general
direction is north and south, but the whole length may be said to form
a gentle arc. The surface rises and falls, and the parapet walls are
full of unexpected nooks—first a corner and next a curve, now an angle
and then a bend; here a concavity and there an inward bulge. In and out
and up and down the bridge winds gently, and at intervals, near the
arches, are dark, glistening pools, fringed with the sword-like leaves
and heavy-scented yellow blooms of the iris, while on the glossy
surface of the water are spread the delicate palette-like leaves and
golden ball flowers of the water-lily.
There are still remaining in the bridge fifteen old arches; two very
beautiful ones are near the northern end, and at the other extremity
is a fine group of six. In places, too, are stretches of very old
and weathered masonry, pathetically irregular, with parts of a bold
string course showing at intervals. The soffits of the old arches are
lined with ribs, which increase both their beauty and strength, and
there are some very interesting buttresses. It is a matter for regret
that the Derbyshire County Council found it necessary in 1899 to make
this romantic old bridge strong enough to carry steam-rollers. By the
lavish use of blue bricks to underpin a number of the old arches, the
utilitarian purpose was achieved, but much of the bridge’s peculiar
beauty has been sacrificed thereby; yet in spite of this mischance,
there is still enough charm left to make a visit to Swarkeston always a
pleasure.
DERBYSHIRE MONUMENTS TO THE FAMILY OF FOLJAMBE[32]
[32] Owing to the lamented death of the late Earl of Liverpool, the
importance that would otherwise have attached to this article has been
seriously diminished (see preface). The chief printed authorities for
the history of the Foljambes are Nichols’ _Collectanea Topographica
et Genealogica_ (1834), i. 91–111, 333–361, ii. 68–90; _Monumenta
Foljambeana_, by Lord Liverpool, in vols. xiv. and xv. of the
_Reliquary_, and Jeayes’ _Derbyshire Charters_ (1906), wherein there
are abstracts of 230 Foljambe deeds at Osberton. See also numerous
references in Cox’s _Derbyshire Churches_ (4 vols.) and _Three
Centuries of Derbyshire Annals_ (2 vols.).
By Rev. J. Charles Cox, LL.D., F.S.A.
All that can be attempted in this article is to give an outline account
of the succession of the family of Foljambe during the six centuries
that they were numbered among the chief landowners of Derbyshire,
with more particular reference to their burial and tombs in the three
churches of Tideswell, Bakewell and Chesterfield.
The Foljambe family were connected with Tideswell and Wormhill from
very early times. One of them was enfeoffed as a forester of fee (that
is an hereditary forester) by William Peverel in the days of the
Conqueror. William Foljambe, who was probably his grandson, died in
1172. Thomas Foljambe, of Tideswell, is mentioned in 1208, and again
in 1214, when he was a knight. He had three sons, whose names appear
as witnesses to various charters between 1224 and 1244; John and Roger
are described as being of Tideswell, and Thomas of Little Hucklow. John
died in 1249.
Sir Thomas Foljambe, son of the above-mentioned John, was of Tideswell
and Wormhill; he was living throughout the reign of Henry III., and
for the first ten years of Edward I. He was also of some position
in Yorkshire, for in 1253–4 he was seized of a knight’s fee in the
Wapentake of Osgoldown; in 1282 he had the manor of Tideswell from
Richard Daniel. He died on the Saturday next after the feast of St.
Hilary in 1283. One of his brothers, Henry Foljambe, was bailiff of
Tideswell in 1288.
It matters but little what class of old records connected with North
Derbyshire is studied, the name of Foljambe is certain to occur in
important matters, and usually with some frequency. Some serious
attention has lately, for the first time, been given to the history
of the Peak Forest (_Victoria County History of Derby_, i., 397–425),
though the mass of documents relative to its administration yet awaits
thorough study. In these records members of the family are continuously
mentioned. Thus, at the Forest Pleas of 1251, the heaviest vert or
“greenhue” fine (damage to or illicit appropriation of timber) was
that of twenty marks imposed on Roger Foljambe for a variety of
transgressions; and his two pledges for future observance of the forest
assize were John Foljambe and Walter Coterell. At these Pleas, too,
Thomas Foljambe was returned by the jury as one of the foresters of fee
for the Campana division of the Peak Forest. The next Forest Pleas were
not held until 1285. The rolls of the successive bailiffs or stewards
of the forest since the last session were produced, from which it
appeared that Thomas Foljambe had been bailiff for the year 1277, and
again in 1281. In the latter year he was also constable of Peak Castle;
his total official receipts for that twelvemonth amounted to the then
great sum of £260.
Sir Thomas Foljambe was succeeded by his eldest son, another Sir Thomas
Foljambe, of Tideswell, who was a knight of the shire for the county
of Derby in 1297, and died in the following year. He was succeeded by
his son, yet another Sir Thomas Foljambe, of Tideswell; he represented
his county in Parliament in 1302, 1304–5, 1309, and from 1311 to 1314.
He was one of those Derbyshire knights who in 1301 were summoned to the
muster at Berwick-on-Tweed to do military service against the Scots.
He died in 1323, and was succeeded by a fourth Sir Thomas Foljambe,
who married the heiress of the family of Darley in the Dale, and so
acquired considerable estates in that neighbourhood, which passed to
his younger son, Sir Godfrey.
There is interesting information with regard to the Foljambes in the
rolls of the Forest Pleas of 1285, from which it appears that the
family at that date held two of the hereditary foresterships of the
Peak.
The Campana foresters of fee of that period were John Daniel; Thomas
le Archer; Thomas, son of Thomas Foljambe, a minor in the custody of
Thomas de Gretton; Nicholas Foljambe, who had been a minor in the
custody of Henry de Medue, but was then of full age; and Adam Gomfrey.
Of these foresters, Adam Gomfrey and Thomas Foljambe held jointly the
same bovate, which had formerly been divided between two brothers.
Also Thomas Foljambe and John le Wolfhunte held another bovate in the
same way, John holding his half by hereditary descent, whilst Thomas
Foljambe, senr., had acquired his half by marriage with Katherine,
daughter of Hugh de Mirhand. This sub-division of serjeanties became
burdensome to the district, as each forester of fee endeavoured to
have a servant maintained at the expense of the tenants; but the
jurors confirmed a decision of the Hundred Court of 1275 to the effect
that there could be only four such servants or officers, according to
ancient custom, for the Campana bailiwick.
The bovate of land held by Wolfhunte and Foljambe was a serjeanty
assigned for taking of wolves in the forest. On the jurors being asked
what were the duties pertaining to that service, the following was the
highly interesting reply:—
“Each year, in March and September, they ought to go through the midst
of the forest to set traps to take the wolves in the places where they
had been found by the hounds: and if the scent was not good because
of the upturned earth, then they should go at other times in the
summer (as on S^t. Barnabas Day, 11 June,) when the wolves had whelps
(catulos), to take and destroy them, but at no other times; and they
might take with them a sworn servant to carry the traps (_ingenia_);
they were to carry a bill-hook and spear, and hunting-knife at their
belt, but neither bows nor arrows: and they were to have with them an
unlawed mastiff trained to the work. All this they were to do at their
own charges, but they had no other duties to discharge in the forest.”
Wolves abounded in Derbyshire to the end of the thirteenth century.
They were troublesome in Duffield Forest as well as in the Peak. There
are two highly significant entries on the _Pipe Rolls_ of Henry II.
as to the devastation then caused by wolves in this county. In 1160–1
25s. was paid to the forest wolf-hunters as an extra fee. So great was
the value set on the skill and experience of the Peak wolf-trappers,
that Henry II. in 1167–8 paid 10s. for the travelling expenses of two
of them to cross the seas to take wolves in Normandy. The accounts of
Gervase de Bernake, bailiff of the Peak for 1255–6, make mention of a
colt strangled by a wolf in Edale, and of two sheep killed by wolves in
another part of the district.
Reverting to the descent of the eldest line of the Foljambes of
Tideswell, John Foljambe succeeded his father, the last named Sir
Thomas Foljambe, in 1323. This John Foljambe had a younger brother,
Thomas, who had two sons, John and Thomas, of Elton, both of whom
appear to have died childless. John Foljambe entailed the family
estates in 1350, and a second entail was made in 1372, whereby on the
extinction of the male descendants of the elder line, the estates of
Tideswell and Wormhill passed to the younger branch of the family.
The oldest known burial-place of the Derbyshire Foljambes was in the
chancel of the church of Tideswell. To be buried in such a place is a
sure proof of the importance of the family in that district, for such
a privilege would not have been granted by the Dean and Chapter of
Lichfield, as rectors, except to those of considerable distinction.
This privilege must have been granted at an early date, long before the
present beautiful fourteenth century chancel was erected. The family
settled in this parish soon after the Conquest, and John Foljambe, who
died in 1249, aged seventy-one, desired to be buried in the chancel
of the church at Tideswell with _his forefathers_. This burial-place
was used by the senior branch of the Foljambes until the time of its
extinction in the male line by the death of Roger Foljambe in 1448.
In the early part of the fourteenth century there were three Foljambe
brasses with effigies extant in this chancel, but they have long since
disappeared. They respectively commemorated (1) Sir Thomas Foljambe,
who died in 1283, aged seventy-six, and Margaret, his wife, daughter
of William de Gernon; (2) Sir Thomas Foljambe, who died in 1298, aged
sixty-eight, and Catherine, his wife, daughter of William Eyre; and (3)
Sir Thomas Foljambe, who died in 1323, aged sixty-seven, and Alice, his
wife, daughter and heiress of Gerard de Furnival.
Thomas Foljambe, son of Sir Thomas Foljambe III., married twice. By
Aveline, his first wife, he had a son, John, from whom the elder branch
at Tideswell were descended. By Alice, daughter and heiress of Darley,
of Darley, he had a son Godfrey, the founder of the Bakewell chantry.
This John Foljambe, who married Joan, daughter of Anker Frechville,
died on August 4th, 1358, and was buried at Tideswell. John, like his
half-brother Godfrey, was a chantry founder on a munificent scale.
He assigned two hundred acres in Tideswell, Wormhill and Litton for
the support of two chaplains, who were to say divine service at the
altar of Our Lady in the church of Tideswell. In conjunction with this
chantry a flourishing gild of brothers and sisters was established. The
chantry was refounded on an extensive scale in the reign of Richard
II.[33]
[33] For full particulars of this chantry see Cox’s _Churches of
Derbyshire_, ii., 286–291.
On the north side of the chancel, a floor-slab, bearing the matrix
of the despoiled brass of the effigy of a man in armour with an
inscription above his head, and another round the edge of the slab,
long remained. One of the younger branch of the Foljambes, about 1675,
desirous that the memory of this benefactor should not be forgotten,
placed a small brass tablet across the breast of the former figure,
which bore, in addition to a shield of the arms of Foljambe, the
following inscription:—
“Tumulus Johanis filii Domini
Thomæ Foljambe qui obiit quarto
die Augusti Ano Domini millesimo
Trecentessimo quinquegesimo octavo
Qui multa bona fecit circa
fabricationem hujus ecclesiæ.”
In 1875, the late Earl of Liverpool caused this brass effigy of his
ancestor to be restored. The inscription round the margin is simply a
more classical rendering of that given above, with the addition of the
date of its restoration. The old inscription has been transferred to
another stone at the head of the brass. The fine east window of this
chancel is due to the Earl’s munificence.
[Illustration: Tideswell Church: The Chancel.]
This is the only remaining assured instance of the once numerous
memorials to the great Foljambe family with which this church must
have at one time abounded. It was, however, Lord Liverpool’s opinion
that the two stone effigies, both of ladies, in the north transept
of the church—the one dating from the end of the thirteenth, and the
other from the latter half of the fourteenth century—represented
members of his family. In this he is supported by local tradition, but
the question can probably never be settled. In the south transept are
two effigies of later date to a knight and his lady on a table tomb.
These have been claimed to represent Sir Thurston de Bower and his
wife Margaret, who died about the close of the fourteenth century.
This monument was considerably restored and renovated in 1873, and a
marginal inscription added naming the effigies. It is, however, quite
possible that Lord Liverpool’s conjecture as to these effigies also
representing members of the Foljambe family is correct.[34]
[34] Lord Liverpool put these conjectures in print in a preface to
the fourth edition of Rev. J. M. J. Fletcher’s _Tideswell Church_,
published in 1906. He had intended elaborating his reasons in this
volume.
Thomas, the elder of the two sons of John Foljambe, the benefactor
to the church, died without issue in his father’s lifetime; John was
succeeded by his younger son, Roger, who is mentioned in various
charters of the reign of Richard II. His son and heir, James, died
in Roger’s lifetime, but left a son, Edward Foljambe, who was at
Tideswell, Wormhill, and Elton in 1416. He took part in the Battle of
Agincourt, and was knighted, and dying about 1446–7, left two sons.
These sons were: Roger, who succeeded him and died in 1448, leaving
three daughters; and Thomas, who died shortly before his brother,
without issue. Thereupon, the entailed estates of Tideswell, Wormhill,
etc., came to Thomas, son and heir of Thomas, younger son of Sir
Godfrey Foljambe, of Darley.
The Darley estates passed, as has been already mentioned, in the time
of Edward III. to Sir Godfrey Foljambe, the younger son of Sir Thomas,
of Tideswell. Sir Godfrey was a man of considerable repute; he acted
as seneschal to John of Gaunt, and was for some years Constable of the
Peak; he also represented Derbyshire in the Parliaments of 1339–40,
1363–4, and 1369–71. Sir Godfrey Foljambe, who held the old Gernon
manor in Bakewell parish and much other property, died in 1376, at the
age of 59. A remarkable monument of beautiful finish is to be seen in
Bakewell Church, against one of the nave piers, to his memory, and that
of his second wife, the co-founders of a chantry in this church.
Sir Godfrey and his wife are represented in half-length figures of
alabaster, carved in high relief, beneath a double-crocketed canopy.
The knight is represented in plate armour, and having on his head a
conical helmet or bascinet, with a camail of mail attached to its lower
edge. The lady wears the reticulated head-dress or cowl. Over the
knight are the arms of Foljambe—_sa._, a bend between six escallops,
_or_—the same being represented on his surcoat; over the lady are
represented the arms of Ireland—_gu._, six fleurs-de-lis, _arg._, 3, 2,
1. The monument is complete as it stands without any inscription, but
in 1803, Mr. Blore, the antiquary, placed here a slab of black marble
with the following inscription in gilt letters: —
“Godefridus Foljambe miles et Avena un: ej. quæ postea cepit in
virum Ricardum de Greene militem dno dnaque manerius de Hassop,
Okebroke, Elton, Stanton, Darley-over-hall, et Lokhowe, cantariam hanc
fundaverunt in honorem sanctæ Crucis a^o. rr. Edri tertii xxxix +
Godefrus ob: die Jovis pr: post fest: ascens. dni a^o: regis pdci 1^o
obiitq Avena die Sabbi pr: p: nativ: b: Mariæ Virg: a^o. rr. Ric. II
vi^o.”
This may be translated: —
“Sir Godfrey Foljambe, Knight, and Avena his wife (who afterwards
married Richard de Greene, Knight), Lord and Lady of the manors of
Hassop, Ockbrook, Elton, Stanton, Darley-over-hall, and Locko, founded
this chantry in honour of the Holy Cross, in the 39th year of the
reign of King Edward III. Godfrey died on the first Thursday after the
feast of the Ascension, in the 50th year of the aforesaid King, and
Avena died on the first Saturday after the feast of the nativity of
the Blessed Virgin Mary, in the 6th year of the reign of Richard II.”
At the bottom of this slab is the word “Watson,” which is in itself
sufficient to stamp this inscription as of modern date; for the old
monumental sculptors were never guilty of the offence of advertising
themselves on the inscribed slabs that they erected. It has been stated
that Mr. Blore obtained this inscription from a document in the British
Museum where the original epitaph was quoted. This, however, is an
impossibility, for a contemporary inscription could not possibly have
contained the blunders of this supposed transcript. The date of the
foundation of the chantry is wrong, and it was, moreover, founded by
Sir Godfrey Foljambe in conjunction with his first wife Anne, and not
with his second wife Avena. The family from which Anne, the first wife,
came is not known, but his second wife, Avena, was the daughter and
heiress of Sir Thomas Ireland, of Hartshorne, by Avena, daughter and
heiress of Sir Payn de Vilers, of Kinoulton and Newbold, Notts.
There has been much confusion as to the date of the founding of the
chantry of the Holy Cross in Bakewell church—Lysons gives the date
as 1365, whilst Glover assigns it to 1371; but the one has been
deceived by an inquisition taken on the death of one of the chaplains
or trustees of the chantry property, and the other by a confirmation
deed of the Dean and Chapter of Lichfield. The true date is 1344, as
is proved by a variety of original documents now extant at the Public
Record Office.[35] There was a gild of some importance in connection
with this well-endowed chantry. The ordinances to secure the regular
attendance of the chaplain of this foundation were rigorous. He was to
reside constantly in the chantry house which adjoined the churchyard.
This house was only pulled down in the year 1820. He was never to be
away from Bakewell for as much as three days without licence from
the Lord of Hassop for the time being, and if the lord was not in
residence, he was to obtain leave from the vicar of Bakewell. If the
chaplain was ever away without licence for so long a time as fifteen
days he was to be at once removed, and another chaplain was to be
presented by the Lord of Hassop for institution by the Dean and Chapter
of Lichfield.
[35] See Cox’s _Churches of Derbyshire_, ii., 16, 17.
The site of the chantry of the Holy Cross was at the east end of the
south aisle. This interesting mural monument is placed against one of
the piers between the south aisle and the nave. It is not quite certain
whether this is the original position, but it has certainly been there
for two and a half centuries; Ashmole, who visited the church in 1662,
gives a rough draft of the memorial, which he describes as “set upon
a pillar betweene the upper end of the south Isle and the body of the
Church.” There was daily mass at the altar of the Holy Cross, and
the chaplain was instructed, after the _confiteor_ in each mass, to
turn to the people and say in the mother tongue, “Pray for the soul
of Sir Godfrey Foljambe and Anne his wife, and his children, and for
the brethren of the Guild of the Holy Cross, and for all the faithful
departed.”
This is the only Foljambe monument at Bakewell, but the following
members of the family were probably buried in the parish church:—Alice
(Darley), widow of Sir Thomas Foljambe; Sir Godfrey Foljambe, of the
monument, and his two wives, Anne and Avena; three of the sons of
Sir Godfrey by his second wife, Avena, viz., Sir Godfrey Foljambe
II., Alvared, the fourth son, and Robert, the fifth son; Sir Godfrey
Foljambe III., grandson of Sir Godfrey of the monument, who died in
1389; and Margaret, daughter of Sir Simon Leche, and wife of the last
named Sir Godfrey.
[Illustration: Bakewell Church: Foljambe Monument.]
Meanwhile, a younger branch of the family, founded by Thomas Foljambe,
second son of the first Sir Godfrey, by Avena, his wife, settled at
Walton, near Chesterfield, through the marriage of this Thomas with
Margaret, the eldest daughter and co-heiress of Sir John Loudham, of
Walton. Sir John Loudham gained the Walton estate, in the parish
of Chesterfield, by marriage with Isabel, daughter and heiress of Sir
Robert Bretton.
Thomas, son and heir of Thomas Foljambe, of Walton, and Margaret
(Loudham), his wife, became heir male of the family in 1448, on the
death, as has been already stated, of Roger Foljambe, of Tideswell.
Though still landowners in that parish, the family ceased from that
time to be residents at Tideswell; for in 1451, this Thomas, then
aged forty, inherited further estates on the death of his uncle, and
thenceforth the Derbyshire home of the family was at Walton. The
Tideswell property was eventually sold by Sir Francis Foljambe, Bart.,
who died in 1640.
We now leave both Tideswell and Bakewell in the search for Foljambe
monuments, and go to one of the south chapels of the great church
of Chesterfield, which was the burial place of the family for more
than two centuries. In this chapel of the south aisle of the quire,
long known as the Foljambe chapel, there used to be a brass to Thomas
Foljambe, who was the first of the family to acquire Walton. There were
also brasses to his son, Thomas Foljambe, of Walton, who married Jane,
daughter and heiress of Sir Thomas Ashton; and also to his son, a third
Thomas Foljambe, who died childless in 1468. But these three brasses
disappeared in the seventeenth century.
Among the Osberton muniments are letters testimonial from the
commissary of the Bishop of Lichfield, dated 27th May, 1469, granting
to Henry Foljambe, of Walton, and John Foljambe, administration of the
goods of Thomas Foljambe, of Walton, deceased, in the estate, the same
having been appraised by James Hyton, dean of Scarsdale, and others,
and proclamations made at mass in Chesterfield church.
The oldest of the memorials now left is a finely wrought table
or chest tomb (of the kind usually misnamed “altar-tomb”), which
commemorates Henry Foljambe, brother and heir of the third Thomas
Foljambe, of Walton, who married Benedicta, daughter of Sir Henry
Vernon, of Haddon. On the sides of this tomb are many sculptured
figures of squires and ladies under rich canopies, representing the
seven sons and seven daughters of Henry and Benedicta. The names of
these children were Godfrey, Thomas, Henry, Richard, John, Gilbert,
Roger, Helen, Margaret, Joan, Mary, Benedicta, Elizabeth, and Anne. An
agreement was entered into between the executors of Henry Foljambe, in
conjunction with his widow and children, and Henry Harpur and William
Moorecock, of Burton-on-Trent, “to make a tomb for Henry Foljambe,
husband of Bennett, in St. Mary’s quire, in the church of All Hallows,
in Chesterfield, and to make it as good as is the tomb of Sir Nicholas
Montgomery at Colley, with eighteen images under the table, and the
arms upon them, and the said Henry in copper and gilt upon the table
of marble, with two arms at the head and two arms at the feet of the
same, and the table of marble to be of a whole stone and all fair
marble.” This agreement is dated 26th of October, 1510; £5 was paid in
hand, and another £5 was to be paid when all was performed; it seems
probable that this contract referred only to the stonework of the tomb.
The brasses on the top of this table-tomb, consisting of the effigies
of Henry and his lady, together with a marginal inscription brass,
were for a long time missing, but were re-supplied by the late Lord
Liverpool; the shields bear the arms of Foljambe, Vernon, Loudham, and
Bretton.
Near to this table-tomb is a floor-slab bearing the brasses of a knight
and his lady. This is the tomb of Sir Godfrey Foljambe IV., eldest son
of the last-mentioned Henry, and his wife Catherine, daughter of Sir
John Leeke, of Sutton-in-the-Dale.[36] He was born at Walton on
Easter Day, 1472. By his will, made in 1531, he desires:
[36] The manner in which covenants of marriage were coolly made
at the period by parents of the landed class, on behalf of their
children, is remarkably illustrated by a covenant drawn up on 9th
June, 1489, between Henry Foljambe, of Walton, and John Leake, of
Sutton-in-the-Dale. By this document it was arranged that Godfrey
Foljambe, son and heir of the said Henry (or in the event of his death
Thomas Foljambe, second son), was to marry Catherine, daughter of the
said John Leake, or in the event of her death, Muriel, the second
daughter. It was further covenanted that John Leake, son and heir of
the said John, was to marry Jane, daughter of the said Henry Foljambe.
“My carcass to be buried in the Chappell of Saint George, besides my
lady my wife in Chesterfield ... my funeral mass and dirge, with all
other suffrages and obsequies to be done and ministered for my soul
according as worship requires, after my degree, that my sword, helmet,
with the crest upon the head, and my coat of arms be hanged over my
tomb and there to remain for ever.”
[Illustration: Tomb of Henry Foljambe, 1510; and Kneeling Figure of Sir
Thomas Foljambe, 1604.
Tomb of Godfrey Foljambe, 1594.
[_From Ford’s “History of Chesterfield,” 1839._]]
The knight is depicted in plate armour, his head resting on his
helmet and his feet on a stag; his surcoat bears the quartered arms
of Foljambe, Loudham, and Bretton. The lady wears the low-pointed
head-dress, with falling lappets, of the sixteenth century, and is clad
in a long mantle, which bears the arms of Leeke; the gown is confined
at the waist by a girdle, fastened with a clasp of three roses, and
round the neck is a chain with a pendant cross. Sir Godfrey died in
1541, and his wife in 1529. This Sir Godfrey was thrice high sheriff of
the county, namely, in 1519, 1524, and 1536.
Against the east wall of the Foljambe chapel is an elaborate mural
monument to Sir James Foljambe, the eldest son of the fourth Sir
Godfrey, who died in 1558. This monument was erected by his grandson,
and is a costly and elaborate example of the fashion of mural monuments
that then prevailed. Bateman, the Derbyshire antiquary of last century,
wrote of it as a specimen of “cumbrous style and horrible taste.” But
although it clashes with its Gothic surroundings, it is quite possible
to admire the beauty and workmanship of some of the component parts.
The kneeling figures of Sir James, his two wives and thirteen children,
are all represented. This Sir James Foljambe enjoyed a plentiful
fortune from his father, but had it much augmented through marriage.
His first wife was Alice, daughter and co-heir of Thomas Fitzwilliam,
of Aldwark,[37] who was slain at Flodden Field, 1515; she brought
him considerable landed property at Aldwark, and in other parts of
Yorkshire. By her he had issue, Godfrey, George and James, twins, and
three daughters, Frances, Cecily, and Mary. Sir James’ second wife was
Constance, daughter of Sir Edward Littleton; by her he had issue, a
son Francis, two other sons, and four daughters. The Latin epitaph,
composed by Sir James’ grandson, is expressed in grandiloquent terms.
Sir James is therein described, according to a translation by Lord
Liverpool, as “a man highly adorned by piety, by the integrity of his
manners, by the heraldic bearing of his ancestors, and by his own
virtues.” By inquisition taken at Chesterfield after his death, it was
found that he died seized of 40 messuages, 7 watermills, 200 acres of
meadow, and £5 rents in Brampton, half the manor in Bremington, the
manors of Elton and Tideswell, as well as a great variety of lands,
messuages, and rents in more than a score of other townships in
Derbyshire.
[37] His brother, Godfrey Foljambe, married Margaret Fitzwilliam, the
other co-heiress.
His eldest son, Godfrey, was twenty-four at the time of his father’s
death. He was subsequently knighted, and died in 1585. He married
Troth, daughter of William Tyrwhitt, of Kettleby. The table-tomb to
the fifth Sir Godfrey and his wife bears their recumbent effigies in
alabaster. Sir Godfrey wears a double collar ruff, and ruffles round
the wrists; he is clad in the plate armour of the period, and is
bare-headed; the head rests on the helmet, whilst a lion supports the
feet. The lady is in ruff and mantle, her head on a cushion and a dog
at her feet. Round the margin of the tomb are twenty shields, bearing
the various Foljambe alliances, whilst at the foot is a shield of all
these Foljambe quarterings impaling Tyrwhitt, whose arms are three
tirwhits or lapwings. An elaborate Latin epitaph appears on a mural
slab above the altar-tomb. Sir Godfrey is there described as “highly
adorned by his innocence, his integrity, his faith, his religion, and
his hospitality.”
[Illustration: Chesterfield Church: Foljambe Chapel.]
Against the south wall of this chapel is the table-tomb and monument
of Godfrey Foljambe, the only son of Sir Godfrey Foljambe V., who
erected the elaborate monuments to his parents and grandparents. He
also erected the monument to himself during his lifetime. He died
in 1594; but the sculptor placed on the margin the true date of the
execution of the work, which was 1592. The sculptured work round this
tomb is a beautifully modelled example of renaissance carving, and has
been considered worthy of special illustration in Mr. Gotch’s recent
important work, _Early Renaissance Architecture in England_.
On the floor near by there is a large alabaster slab bearing the
incised effigy of a man in armour, with a much mutilated marginal
inscription. It appears, from church notes of the eighteenth century,
that this is the monument of George Foljambe, of Brimington, who died
in 1588; he was the second son of Sir James Foljambe. In this chapel
there is also to be seen the exceptional kneeling figure of a knight
in plate armour, which is described and engraved in the _Gentleman’s
Magazine_ for 1794. It has undergone various mutilations and
restorations. There is some difficulty in deciding whom this monument
is intended to represent; but it seems probable that it was erected to
the memory of Sir Thomas Foljambe, who was buried at Chesterfield in
1604. He was the son of Francis Foljambe, the eldest son of Sir James,
by his second wife; he was succeeded by his brother Francis, who was
created baronet in 1622.
One of the most painful features of the troubles of the Elizabethan
recusants, or adherents to the unreformed faith, who were numerous
in this county, was the deliberate way in which family feuds were
promoted, and the bribe of inheriting forfeited estates held out to
conforming relations who would give information as to recusancy.[38]
[38] See Cox’s _Three Centuries of Derbyshire Annals_, i. 251–276.
Among the Talbot papers at the College of Arms is a letter from Francis
Leeke to the Earl of Shrewsbury, dated February 2nd, 1587, wherein he
states:—
“I was this day at Tupton where I found the Lady Constance Foljamb.
I did impart to the Lady Foljambe my comitione to comitte her to the
chardge of my cousin Foljamb. Her answer was that she was by age, and
the sikeness of the stone, not abell to travell either on horseback
or on foot, and so desired me to let your Lordshipp understand:
whereuppon she yet remeenethe at Tupton till your Lordshippe’s
pleasure be further knowne.”
The Earl answers that her commitment is necessary, and on February 16th
of the same year, receives a letter from Godfrey Foljambe stating that
he had apprehended “the Lady Constance Foljambe, my grandmother, and
now have her in my custodie, whom, by God’s help, I shall safely keep.”
The zeal of the conforming grandson was not altogether disinterested,
for when he set her at liberty, twenty months later, by order of
the Council, he retained for his own benefit “her living, goods,
and chattels.” On September 22nd, 1589, the Lady Constance wrote to
the Earl thanking him for her release. From another source comes an
interesting evidence of the endeavours of the aged lady, within a few
days of her release, to conform sufficiently so as to escape renewed
custody at the hands of her grasping grandson. In the common place book
of Roger Columbell, of Darley Hall, occurs this note:
“Mem. Godfrey Foljambe of More Hall, myself, my brother Blunt were at
Tupton in the Lady Constance Foljambe’s house, the 28th September,
1589, when all the morning prayers, saving the ij. lessons omitted
for want of a byble & the collect for the daye, for want of skyll to
find it out, was distinctley read with the Latinne also by Nicholas
Harding; her man-servant, & Elianor Harrington, hir waytinge woman
beinge present, who reverently and obediently behaved themselves
during all the service tyme, as we aforenamed with Edward Bradshawe,
John Browne, and John Hawson, are to witness whensoever we shall be
called by other or otherwyse as by a byll under our hand according to
my sade cousen Foljambe of More Hall appeareth.”
Sir Francis Foljambe, Bart., sold Walton Manor House and the Derbyshire
estate to Sir Arthur Ingram in 1633. From that time Aldwark became the
chief residence of the family. Sir Francis died, leaving no male issue,
in 1640, and the representation of his family devolved on his third
cousin, Peter Foljambe, who was able to prove his descent and claim to
the family estates. He lived at Steveton, one of the inherited estates
in the parish of Sherborn, Yorkshire, and died in 1668. It is from the
Foljambes of Aldwark and Steveton that Cecil George Savile Foljambe,
Baron Hawkesbury 1893, Viscount Hawkesbury and Earl of Liverpool 1905,
who died in 1907, was descended.
REPTON: ITS ABBEY, CHURCH, PRIORY, AND SCHOOL
By Rev. F. C. Hipkins, M.A., F.S.A.
Very early in the annals of England the name of Repton appears. In the
_Anglo-Saxon Chronicle_ it is mentioned three times:—(1) A.D. 755, “In
the same year Æthelbald, King of the Mercians, was slain at Seccandune
(Seckington, Warwickshire), and his body lies at Hreopandune (Repton)”;
(2) A.D. 874, “In this year the army of the Danes went from Lindsey to
Hreopedune, and there took up their winter quarters”; (3) A.D. 875, “In
this year the army departed from Hreopedune.”
Professor Skeat thinks that “the name signifies Hreopa’s down, _i.e._,
Hreopa’s hill-fort. Hreopa being the name of some Anglo-Saxon warrior,
not otherwise known.”
In _Domesday Book_ the name is spelt Rapendun, and many variations as
to the spelling of the name appear in mediæval and modern documents.
[Illustration: Repton: Parish Church and Priory Gateway.]
Stebbing Shaw, in the _Topographer_ (ii., 250), writes: “Here was,
before A.D. 600, a noble monastery of religious men and women, under
the government of an Abbess, after the Saxon Way, wherein several of
the royal line were buried.”
Tradition says that this monastery was founded by St. David about the
year 600, but as no records of the monastery have been discovered,
we cannot tell with any precision when it was founded, or by
whom. Penda, the pagan King of Mercia, was slain by Oswin, King of
Northumbria, at the battle of Winwadfield in the year 656, and was
succeeded by his brother Peada, who had been converted to Christianity
by Alfred, brother of Oswin, and was baptized, with all his attendants,
by Finan, Bishop of Lindisfarne, at Walton, in the year 632 (Matt.
Paris, _Chron. Maj._). King Peada is said to have brought into the
midlands four priests, Adda, Betti, Cedda (brother of St. Chad), and
Diuma, who was consecrated first bishop of the Middle Angles and
Mercians. In the year 657 Peada was slain “in a very nefarious manner
during the festival of Easter,” and was succeeded by his brother
Wulphere.
Tanner, _Notitia_, f. 78; Leland, _Collect_, vol. ii., p. 157; Dugdale,
_Monasticon_, vol. ii., pp. 280–2, agree that the monastery was founded
before the year 660, so that either Peada or his brother Wulphere may
have been the founder.
One of the earliest references to Repton Abbey and Abbess is found
in a life of St. Guthlac, written by Felix, a monk of Croyland, at
the command of Æthelbald, King of the Mercians. Guthlac, after a nine
years’ life of plunder, obtained by fire and sword, repented of his
life,
“And one sleepless night, his conscience awoke, the enormity of his
crimes, and the doom awaiting such a life, suddenly aroused him; at
daybreak he announced to his companions, his intention of giving up
the predatory life of a soldier of fortune, and desired them to choose
another leader. So, at the age of twenty-four, he left them, and came
to the abbey of Repton, and sought admission there.”
This happened in the year 694, when Ælfritha was abbess. She admitted
him, and under her rule he received the mystical tonsure of St. Peter,
the prince of the Apostles.
For two years he submitted himself to the discipline of the monastery,
but, attracted by the virtues of a hermit’s life, he left the abbey
in the autumn of 696, “when berries hung ripe over the stream,” and
drifted down the Trent till he reached the Lincoln Fens, where he
built himself a hut, and lived in it till he died in 714. It is related
that Eadburgh, Abbess of Repton, daughter of Aldulph, King of the East
Angles, sent a shroud and a coffin of Derbyshire lead for his burial.
_The Memorials of St. Guthlac_, edited by Dr. Walter de Gray Birch,
contain the full text of Felix’s life of the Saint, interleaved
with eighteen cartoons, reproduced by autotype photography from the
well-known roll in the British Museum.
The next event is connected with Wystan, patron saint of Repton. In
an appendix to the _Chronicon Abbatiæ de Evesham_, written by Thomas
de Marleberge, Abbot of Evesham (published among _The Chronicles and
Memorials of Great Britain and Ireland during the Middle-Ages_),
there is a life of St. Wystan. Wystan was the son of Wimund (son of
Wiglaf, King of Mercia); his mother’s name was “Elfleda”; his father
died of dysentery when he (Wystan) was young. On the death of Wiglaf,
Bertulph, “inflamed with a desire of ruling, and with a secret love for
the Queen-Regent,” conspired against his nephew Wystan. A council was
summoned to meet at a place known from that day to this as Wistanstowe,
in Shropshire. Hither came Bertulph and his son Berfurt. Beneath his
cloak Berfurt had concealed a sword, and whilst giving a kiss of peace
to Wystan he drew it and smote him with a mortal wound in the head, and
so, on the Eve of Pentecost, A.D. 850, “that holy martyr, leaving his
precious body on the earth, bore his glorious soul to heaven.” The body
was conveyed to the Abbey at Repton, “tunc temporis famosissimum,” and
buried in the mausoleum of his grandfather.
Here the body rested till the days of Canute (1016–1035), who
transferred the relics to Evesham Abbey. In the year 1207 its central
tower fell, smashing the presbytery and all that it contained,
including the shrine of St. Wystan. The monks recovered the relics,
and at the earnest request of the prior and canons of Repton granted
to them “a portion of the broken skull and a piece of an arm bone.”
The bearers of the precious relics were met by a procession of prior
canons, and others from Repton; “with tears of joy they placed the
relics, not as before in the mausoleum of St. Wystan’s grandfather, but
in a shrine more worthy, more suitable, and as honourable as it was
possible to make it in their own Priory Chapel.”
About twenty years after the murder of St. Wystan, the Danes again
invaded the land. During the reign of Alfred, in A.D. 874, they
penetrated up the river Trent into the heart of Mercia, and took up
their winter quarters at Repton, as we read in the _Saxon Chronicle_.
Here they made a camp, a parallelogram of raised earth, still _in
situ_, by the side of the river Trent. Its dimensions are: north side,
75 yards 1 foot; south side, 68 yards 1 foot; east side, 52 yards 1
foot; west side, 54 yards 2 feet. Within the four embankments are
two rounded mounds, and parallel with the south side are two inner
ramparts, and one parallel with the north. The local name for it is
“The Buries.” The next year, 875, they departed, having, as Ingulph
relates, “utterly destroyed that most celebrated monastery, the most
sacred mausoleum of all the Kings of Mercia.”
For about a century the site of the monastery remained desolate, until
the reign of Edgar the Peaceable (959–975), when, as the Rev. Dr.
Cox writes, “Probably about that period the religious ardour of the
persecuted Saxons revived ... their thoughts would naturally revert to
the glories of monastic Repton in the days gone by.” On the site of
or close to the ruined abbey a church was built, and dedicated to St.
Wystan. In _Domesday Book_ Repton is entered as having a church with
two priests, which proves the size and importance of the church and
parish in those early days.
According to several writers it was built of stout oak beams, and
planks, on a foundation of stone, and its sides were made of wattle,
composed of withy twigs, interlaced between the oak beams, daubed
within and without with mud or clay. The floor of the chancel,
supported on beams of wood, was higher than the present one, so it had
an upper and lower “choir,” the lower one being lit by narrow lights,
two of which, blocked up, can be seen in the south wall of the chancel.
When the church was reconstructed of stone the chancel floor was
removed, and the lower “choir” was converted into the present crypt by
the introduction of a vaulted stone roof, which is supported by four
spirally-wreathed pillars, five feet apart, five feet six inches high,
eight square responds, slightly fluted, of the same height and distance
apart, all with capitals, with square abaci, which are chamfered off
below.
As the responds are not bonded into the walls of the crypt, the
question has been asked if the walls might have pertained to the abbey,
and formed the mausoleum referred to on previous page.
Round the four walls is a double string-course; below which the walls
are ashlar, remarkably smooth. The vaulted roof springs from the upper
string-course; the ribs are square in section, one foot wide, no
diagonal groins. The whole roof is covered with plaster; traces of red
colour wash can be seen on the capitals and roof.
There were square recesses on the east, north, and south sides,
projecting two feet two inches from the face of the walls, six feet
two inches wide, with openings in them two feet wide, used as windows.
These recesses were capped with triangular shaped roofs, which served
the double purpose of protecting them, and also formed buttresses for
the walls. Similar triangular roofs are to be seen at Barnack and
Brigstock.
[Illustration: Repton Church: Saxon Crypt.]
In the west wall there is also a recess, formed by an arch; in this
recess there is a smaller triangular-shaped opening, about 18 inches
high. Many suggestions have been made as to its use: (1) it was
a “holy hole” for the reception of relics; (2) an opening in which
a lamp, let down from the chancel above, could be kept lit; (3) “a
hagioscope,” through which the crypt and its contents could be seen
from the nave of the church. Two passages led from the western angles
of the crypt to the church above.
In the December, 1896, number of the _Archæological Journal_ there is
an article by Mr. Micklethwaite in which he refers to the fact that the
crypts at Brixworth, Repton, and Wing are alike in one respect—they
each have recesses, which he calls “arcosolia,” or arched chambers,
intended to receive tombs. At Repton and Wing there are three; at
Brixworth, two. Repton and Wing extend two feet two inches from the
face of the walls; those at Brixworth are in the thickness of the
walls. In the year 1898 I excavated the earth on the south side, and
found the foundations as before given; under a slab in the recess, a
skeleton was found. The recess on the east side was destroyed when a
flight of stone steps was made leading down into the crypt. Six of
these steps are still _in situ_. The recess on the north side was
destroyed, and replaced by an outer stone staircase, with holy water
stoup in the wall, and a thirteenth century door.
All the various styles of architecture are to be seen included in the
walls of Repton church. Saxon or Norman in the chancel, crypt, walls,
and foundations of the present nave as far as the second pillars.
During the year 1854 the Saxon pillars and arches of the church were
removed for the sake of uniformity! The pillars are preserved in the
south porch.
During the last restoration of 1885–6, the foundations of this part of
the church, and those of the Early English period, were laid bare.
The Decorated style is represented by the pillars and arches of the
nave, the north and south aisles, and the tower with its steeple.
Bassano, in his _Church Notes_, records this fact:—
“An^o 1340. The tower steeple belonging to the Priors Church of this
town was finished and built up, as appears by a Scrole of Lead, having
on it these words—‘Turris adaptatur qua trajectu decoratur. M c ter
xxbis. Testu Palini Johis.”
The Perpendicular style is represented by the clerestory windows, of
two lights each, the roof of the church, and the south porch.
In the year 1779, the crypt was “discovered” in a curious way. Dr.
Prior, headmaster of Repton School, died on June 16th of that year; a
grave was being prepared in the chancel, when the grave-digger suddenly
disappeared from sight; he had dug through the vaulted roof, and so
fell into the crypt below! In the south-west division of the groined
ceiling, a rough lot of rubble, used to mend the hole, indicates the
spot.
During the year 1792 “a restoration” of the church took place; the
church was re-pewed in the horse-box style! All the beautifully
carved oak work on pews and elsewhere, described by Stebbing Shaw in
the _Topographer_ (May, 1790), and many monuments, were cleared out
or destroyed. The crypt seems to have been the receptacle for “all
and various” kinds of this “rubbish.” In the year 1802, Dr. Sleath,
headmaster of Repton, “discovered” the steps and door on the north
side of the chancel, and having cleared out the one and opened the
other, found the crypt filled up to the capitals of the pillars with
“rubbish,” which he removed, and restored the crypt as it is now.
There are three ancient register books of births, baptisms, marriages,
and burials, and one register book of the churchwardens’ and
constables’ accounts of the parish of Repton. They extend from 1580 to
1670.
The register book of the churchwardens’ and constables’ accounts
extends from 1582 to 1635, and includes Repton, and the chapelries of
Foremark, Ingleby, and Bretby. It is a narrow folio volume of coarse
paper (16 in. by 6 in., by 2 in. thick), and is bound with a parchment
which formed part of a Latin Breviary or Office Book, with music and
words. The initial letters are illuminated; the colours inside are
still bright and distinct.
In vol. i. of the _Journal of the Derbyshire Archæological Society_
(1879) there is an article by Rev. Dr. Cox on these accounts, and
he writes: “It is the earliest record of parish accounts, with the
exception of All Saints’, Derby, in the county.” Space alone prevents
me from making extracts from them and the other registers; they are
full of local interest.
About the year 1059, a Priory of Canons Regular, of the order of St.
Augustine, dedicated to St. Giles, was founded at Calke by Algar,
Earl of Mercia. Here they dwelt till _c._ 1153, according to the old
Chronicle written by one Thomas de Musca, Canon of Dale Abbey, when
Serio de Grendon, lord of Bradley, near Ashbourne, “called together the
Canons of Kale, and gave them the place of Deepdale; here they built
for themselves a church, a costly labour, and other offices.” These
buildings became known as Dale Abbey, and here they lived for a time
“apart from the social intercourse of men, but they began too remissly
to hold themselves in the service of God; they began to frequent
the forest more than the church, more to hunting than to prayer or
meditation, so the King ordered them to return to the place whence they
came,” viz., Calke. During the reign of Henry II. (1154–1189), Matilda,
widow of Randulf, fourth Earl of Chester, who died A.D. 1153—with the
consent of her son Hugh—granted to God, St. Mary, the Holy Trinity, and
to the Canons of Calke, the working of a quarry at Repton, together
with the advowson of the church of St. Wystan, at Repton, on condition
that as soon as a suitable opportunity should occur, the Canons should
remove to Repton, which was to be their chief house; Calke Priory was
to become subject to it.
“A suitable opportunity” occurred during the episcopate of Walter
Durdent, Bishop of Coventry and Lichfield (1149–1159).
Copies of the original charters are given in Bigsby’s _History of
Repton_, Dugdale’s _Monasticon_, and Stebbing Shaw’s article in vol.
ii. of the _Topographer_. The charters containing grants extend from
Stephen’s reign (1135–1154) to the reign of Henry V. (1413–1422), and
include the church of St. Wystan, Repton, with its eight chapelries of
Newton Solney, Bretby, Milton, Foremark, Ingleby, Tickenhall, Smisby,
and Measham; the church at Badow, in Essex; estates at Willington,
including its church; and property at Croxall.
Very few events have been handed down to us in connection with the
story of the priory. In November, 1364, Robert de Stretton, Bishop
of Lichfield, was holding a visitation in the chapter house of the
priory of Repton. For some reason unknown, the villagers, armed with
bows and arrows, swords and cudgels, with much tumult, assaulted the
Priory Gatehouse. The bishop sent for Sir Alured de Solney and Sir
Robt. Francis, lords of the manors of Newton Solney and Foremark, who
came and quickly quelled this early “town and gown” row without any
actual breach of the peace. The bishop soon after proceeded on his
journey, and on reaching Alfreton issued a sentence of interdict on
the town and parish church of Repton, with a command to the clergy in
the neighbouring churches to publish the same under pain of greater
excommunication, and publication was to be continued until they merited
the grace of reconciliation.
By the advice of Thomas Cromwell—_malleus monachorum_—Henry VIII.
issued a commission of inquiry into the condition, etc., of the
monasteries of England. An Act was passed in 1536 suppressing those
which had revenues less than £200 a year. Those notorious men, Doctors
Thomas Leigh and Richard Layton, had visited Repton the year before,
and gave the amount of revenue as £180 per annum; they reported that
the canons were not living up to their vows, and added a note to their
report; but all competent historians agree that these reports are quite
untrustworthy.
Under the heading of _superstitio_ the visitors made the interesting
entry that pilgrims came to the Priory of Repton to visit (a shrine of)
St. Guthlac and his bell, which they were wont to place on their heads
for the cure of the headache. This relic formed an interesting link
between the early pre-Conquest Abbey and the Norman Priory.
On June 12th, 1537, John Yonge, or Young, was re-appointed prior by
the Crown; letters patent were granted exempting the priory from
suppression on the payment of a fine of £266 13s. 4d. But this only
delayed the surrender, which happened on October 26th, 1538. Prior
Yonge died three days before that event. Ralph Clerke, sub-prior,
signed the deed handing the priory and contents to Dr. Leigh, who,
writing to Thomas Cromwell from Grace Dieu, said, “On coming to Repton
they found the house greatly spoiled, and many things purloined, part
of which they recovered.”
In the Public Record Office there is a very full inventory of the goods
and possessions of the Priory. A transcript of this inventory is given
by Mr. W. H. St. John Hope in vol. vi. of the _Derbyshire Archæological
Journal_, 1884. This inventory affords a very good and detailed account
of the Priory and its contents. It is termed a list of—
“all suche parcells of Implements or houshould stuffe, corne, catell,
Ornamments of the Church & such other lyke found within the said
late p^irory at the tyme of the dyssolucon therof sould by the Kyngs
Commissioners to Thomas Thacker the xxvj day of October in the xxx
yere of o^r sov’agn lorde Kyng henry the viij^{th}.”
A memorandum added to the list recounts that—
“(Thomas) Thacker was put in possession of the scite of the seid late
priory & all the demaynes to y^t apperteynyng to o^r sov’aigne lorde
the Kynges use.”
Thomas Thacker died in 1548, leaving his property to his son Gilbert;
the latter, according to Fuller,
“being alarmed with the news that Queen Mary had set up the abbeys
again (and fearing how large a reach such a precedent might have) upon
a Sunday (belike the better day, the better deed) called together the
carpenters and masons of that county, and plucked down in one day
(church-work is a cripple in going up, but rides post in coming down)
a most beautiful church belonging thereto, saying ‘he would destroy
the nest, for fear the birds should build therein again.’”
The Priory differed in no marked way from the usual plan of conventual
building—a square cloister, surrounded on all its sides by buildings.
Owing to the river being on the north, the cloister was on the north
of its church, instead of the south; the Refectory, or Fratry, on
the north side, the church on the south; the chapter house and
calefactorium, with dormitory over them, on the east side; the
kitchens, buttery, and cellars, with guest hall over them, on the west
side. Admission to the Priory precincts, which were bounded by the
existing walls, was obtained through a gate-house, the outer arch of
which forms the present entrance. The Trent formed a boundary on the
north. The stream which flows down the village entered the precincts at
the south-eastern corner of the boundary wall through an arch, still
_in situ_, and supplied the fish-ponds, mill, and Priory with water for
domestic, sanitary, and other purposes.
The Priory church consisted of nave, with north and south aisles,
central tower, north and south transepts, choir, with aisles, a south
chapel, and a presbytery to the east of the choir. In the inventory the
following chapels are named: St. John, Our Lady of Pity, St. Thomas,
St. Syth (St. Osyth), Our Lady, and St. Nicholas. Many beautiful
fragments of painted canopies, tabernacle work, etc., were found among
the débris when digging foundations for the Pears School in 1885; no
doubt many of the shrines, such as those of SS. Guthlac and Wystan, had
been robbed of their relics and ornaments long before the Priory was
destroyed in the year 1553.
[Illustration: Repton: The Priory Gateway and School.]
Leaving the church, we enter, through a door at the east end of the
north aisle, the cloister. Passing along the eastern side we come to
the Chapter House, with _slype_, or passage, through which the bodies
of the canons were conveyed for interment in the cemetery outside.
The _slype_ is still intact, with plain barrel vault, without ribs,
springing from a chamfered string course; adjoining the slype was the
calefactorium, or warming house.
Over the Chapter House, slype, and calefactorium was the dormitory,
with its cells or cubicles.
The Fratry or Refectory occupied the north side, with rooms underneath
used for various purposes, and a passage leading to the infirmary, an
isolated building, now known as the Hall.
On the west side were the Prior’s Chamber and five others, devoted to
guests who visited the Priory. Underneath was the cellarium, which
included “the Kychenn,” “larder,” and “bruehouse.” The cellar was a
long room 89 feet by 26 feet, divided by a row of six massive Norman
columns, four of which are still _in situ_. Besides these, there were
three other houses mentioned: “the yelyng house,” _i.e._, brewing
house; the “boultyng house,” where the meal was sifted; and the “kyll
house,” by which term is possibly meant the slaughter house, but more
probably the kiln house.
The following is a more perfect and fuller list of the priors of Repton
than has hitherto appeared:—
Robert, _c._ 1155; Nicholas, _c._ 1175; Albred, _c._ 1200; Richard,
_c._ 1208; Nicholas, _c._ 1215; John, _c._ 1220; Reginald, _c._ 1230;
Peter, _c._ 1252; Robert, _c._ 1289; Ralph, 1316–36; John de Lichfield,
1336–46; Simon de Sutton, 1346–56; Ralph de Derby, 1356–99; William of
Tutbury, 1399; William Maynesin, _c._ 1411; Wystan Porter, died 1436;
John Overton, 1436; John Wylne, 1438–71; Thomas Sutton, 1471–86; Henry
Prest, 1486–1503; William Derby, 1503–8; John Young, 1508.
The fourth section of these outline memorials of Repton belongs to the
school, which has this year (1907) celebrated its seventh jubilee. The
founder of Repton School was descended from Henry Porte, a merchant
of Westchester (_i.e._, Chester, west of Manchester). He had a son,
also Henry, a mercer, of the same city. His son John was a Justice of
the King’s Bench in the reign of Henry VIII., who conferred upon him,
after the dissolution of the monasteries, the manor, together with the
rectory and advowson of the vicarage of Etwall; these passed to his
son, Sir John Porte (created a Knight of the Bath at the coronation
of Edward VI.), the founder of Repton School. He was educated at
Brasenose College, Oxford, in which his father is said to have provided
“stipends for two sufficient and able persons to read and teach openly
in the hall—the one philosophy, the other humanity,” one of which
“stipends” or lectureships was conferred on his son. Like his father,
he was married twice. His first wife was Elizabeth, daughter of Sir
Thomas Giffard, by whom he had two sons, who predeceased him, and
three daughters, Elizabeth, who married Sir Thomas Gerrard, knight of
Bryn, co. Manchester; Dorothy, who married George Hastings, Earl of
Huntingdon; and Margaret, who married Sir Thomas Stanhope, knight,
of Shelford, co. Nottingham. From these three daughters the present
hereditary governors of Repton School, Lord Gerard, Earl Loudoun, and
Earl Carnarvon, trace their descent. By his second wife, Dorothy,
daughter of Sir Anthony Fitzherbert, of Norbury, he had no children.
In the year 1553 Sir John was one of the “knights of the shire” for the
County of Derby, and served the office of High Sheriff for the same
county in 1554. In 1556 he sat with Ralph Baine, Bishop of Lichfield,
and the rest of the Commissioners, at Uttoxeter, in Staffordshire, “to
search out heresies and punish them.”—Strype, _Memorials_, vol. iii.,
part 2, p. 15.
On the 6th of June, 1557, he died, and was buried in Etwall church.
Built against the south wall in the chancel is “a comely and handsome
tomb of pure marble,” under which lie the bodies of Sir John and his
two wives. “Set and fixed, graven in brass,” are portrait figures of
Sir John, his wives, and children.
By will, dated the 9th of March, 1556, Sir John gave and devised to
his executors, Sir Thomas Giffard, knight; Richard Harpur, Esquire;
Thomas Brewster, Vicar of Etwall, and others, certain estates in the
counties of Derby and Lancaster for the foundation and maintenance of
an almshouse at Etwall, and a grammar school at Etwall or Repton.
As we read in the report made to the Charity Commissioners in 1867—
“Sir John had no property at Repton. His executors were probably
induced to establish the school there, rather than at Etwall, by
finding the refectory of the building of the dissolved priory well
adapted to the purpose. By indenture, dated 12th June, I Eliz.
1558, Gilbert Thacker, the grantee of the site of the priory, in
consideration of £37 10. ‘bargained and sold to Richard Harpur,
serjeant-at-law, John Harker, and Simon Starkey, three of the
executors of Sir John Port ... one large great and high house near
the kitchen of the same Gilbert Thacker, in Repton, commonly called
the Feringre (Fermery or Infirmary of the priory) ... upon which the
schoolmaster’s lodgings were then newly erected, together with all
the rooms, both above and beneath, of the same long house, ... also
one large void room or parcel of ground upon the east part ... lately
called the Cloyster, and one other room thereto adjoining, lately
called the Tratrye (Fratry), as the same was then inclosed with a new
wall, to the intent that the same should be a schoolhouse, and so used
from time to time thereafter.’”—(See page 43 of the Report.)
The erection of “schoolmaster’s lodgings, with rooms above and below,”
on the ruins of the Priory, referred to above, makes it very difficult
to identify the present Priory with the original building. As Mr. St.
John Hope writes in the 1884 volume of the _Journal of the Derbyshire
Archæological Society_:
“The western side of the claustral buildings consisted of the block
under the charge of the cellarer, called the _cellarium_. It is here
complete to the roof as far as the structure is concerned, but the
original round-headed windows (with the exception of one) have been
superseded by larger ones, and sundry partitions and insertions have
quite destroyed its ancient arrangements. The _cellarium_ appears to
be the only remaining part of the original Norman monastery, built
when the canons migrated from Calke, in the middle of the twelfth
century.”
The ground floor consisted of a large room, divided by a row of six
massive Norman circular columns, with scalloped or plain capitals; four
of these remain. At the southern end of the west side is a slype or
entrance to the cloister; at the northern end are three rooms, probably
the kitchen larder; and from the appearance of the third—with its
groined roof, the ribs of which were intended to be ornamented with the
dog-tooth moulding, which was begun and never finished—it was used by
the cellarer as a “plate house,” etc.
The “causey” at the south end was erected to form an entrance to the
school.
By Royal Letters Patent, dated June 20th, 19 Jac. I. (1622), a Charter
of Incorporation was granted, by the style and title of “The Master of
Etwall Hospital, the School Master of Repton, Ushers, Poor Men, and
Poor Scholars.” The charter is quoted at length in the Report, and
consists of twenty-four ordinances, which refer to the appointment,
duties, salaries, and stipends of the said masters, ushers, poor men,
and poor scholars.
The Thackers and the school seem to have lived amicably together for
many years; but as the school increased in numbers, that state of
affairs was not likely to last. When Gilbert Thacker sold the remains
of the Priory to the executors of Sir John Porte, he little thought
what a rookery he was making for his descendants! The boys in their
“recreation” extended the bounds, and ventured too near the inner
courtyard in front of Thacker’s house, much to the annoyance and
inconvenience of the dwellers there, as we can easily imagine. At last,
in the year 1652, a case known as “The Master, &c., _v._ Gilbert
Thacker and others,” was commenced. It was settled out of court by the
appointment of two arbitrators, Sir Francis Burdett, Bart., and Sir
Samuel Sleigh, Knight, with Gervase Bennett as referee. They pronounced
“theire award by word of mouth about the year 1653.” Thacker was to
build a wall across the courtyard, beyond which the boys were not
allowed to pass. This he refused to do, so the alleged trespass and
annoyances went on for another twelve years, when, owing to the conduct
of Thacker, the school brought an action against him. The High Court
of Chancery appointed four gentlemen as commissioners to try the case:
William Bullock, Daniel Watson, Esquires; Thomas Charnells, and Robert
Bennett, gentlemen. They met “at the house of Alderman Hugh Newton, at
Derby, there being at the signe of the George.”
In the year 1896 I found an account of this case in the school muniment
chest. It consists of two rolled-up folios, lawyers’ briefs, with
interrogations, depositions, etc., which were taken on April 15th,
1663, and fill sixty pages of folio. The interrogations for the school
administered to the witnesses—of whom there were fifty, twenty-five
on each side—referred to their knowledge of the school buildings,
schoolmasters and boys, Thacker’s ancestors, rights of way, the award
of Sir Francis Burdett and Sir Samuel Sleigh, the Thackers’ conduct,
the value of the land, former suits at law, and the use of the yard
for recreation by the boys, etc. For Thacker the questions referred
to the knowledge of prohibitions by his ancestors and himself, and
complaints made to the schoolmasters, etc. The depositions are most
interesting, as the knowledge of some of the witnesses extended back
to within forty years of the founding of the school. I wish I could
quote them at length. Again “the differences between the parties”
were settled out of court; “they were referred to the Right Honorable
Philipp, Earl of Chesterfield, to be finally determined if he could,”
which proved a difficult task, for Thacker would not come to terms;
so another writ was issued on January 11th, in the eighteenth year of
the reign of Charles the Second, calling upon Thacker, “his Counsel,
Attorneys, &c., &c., to fulfil each and every thing contained and
specified in the aforesaid order, and in no wise neglect this at your
imminent peril.” Thacker pleaded ignorance of the order, “as it was
written in short Lattin, some of the words written very short, he did
not well understand it, nor could say if it was a true coppy.” His plea
was allowed, and a settlement was arrived at; a wall was built, part of
it still _in situ_, “by both parties, from the Chancel N.E. corner to
the north side of the door of the Nether School House,” below which the
boys were not allowed to pass. A receipt for £14 19s. for half the cost
of the building of the wall, signed by Wm. Jordan, proves that it was
built before or during the year 1670.
For over two hundred years the school consisted of the Priory, and a
room called the “writing school,” now destroyed, which stood on the
east side of the “causey,” a paved passage between the walls, with
steps leading into the old “big school,” now the school library. The
“schoolmaster’s lodgings” were at the north end; the usher’s at its
south. The other “ushers” had their “lodgings” in a building, also
destroyed, in what is now known as the “Trent gardens.”
During the headmastership of Dr. Prior (1767–79) the number of boys
attending the school had greatly increased; those who came from a
distance used “to table,” that is, lodge, in the village. “For the
better acomodation of boarders,” the governors of the school rented the
Hall from Sir Robert Burdett, Bart., of Foremark, who had succeeded
to it on the death of Mary Thacker, who died on January 8th, 1728.
An order was issued by the governors, the Earls of Huntingdon and
Chesterfield and W. Cotton, on the 31st day of August, 1768, that
the Hall “should be considered in all points as the master’s house,
the rent and all other expenses attending it being defrayed by the
Corporation”; from that date the Hall has been the residence of the
headmasters of Repton School. Originally it consisted of an isolated
brick tower, two storeys high, with hexagonal turrets in the upper
storey, and was built by Prior Overton in the reign of Henry VI.
(1422–61). When the Thackers obtained possession of it, they added to
it at various dates. The lower storey of the tower, now used as the
kitchen, has a fine oak ceiling, divided into nine square compartments
by oak beams; at the intersections there are four carved bosses,
bearing (1) a name device or rebus of Prior Overton, a tun or cask
encircled by the letter O, formed by a vine branch with leaves and
grapes; (2) a capital T ornamented with leaves; (3) an S similarly
ornamented; (4) a sheep encircled like No. 1. The oaken staircase
is lit by a stained-glass window, with the armorial bearings of the
founder and three hereditary governors, the Earls of Huntingdon and
Chesterfield, and Sir John Gerard.
With varied fortune the school continued till Dr. Pears was appointed
headmaster in the year 1854, when there were only forty-eight boys in
the school! The numbers rose rapidly, and other houses had to be built.
The tercentenary of the school, held in 1857, proved to be a fresh
starting point in its history. On August 11th of that year, the late
Honourable George Denman presided over a meeting of Old Reptonians and
others. Speeches were delivered, and a sermon was preached by the late
Dr. Vaughan, headmaster of Harrow School. As a lasting memorial of the
day, it was proposed that a school chapel should be erected; hitherto
the school had worshipped in the parish church. A liberal response was
made to the appeal, and in the year 1858 Earl Howe laid the foundation
stone. Since that time it has been enlarged no less than four times to
accommodate the number of boys, which now exceeds three hundred. From
1860 to 1885 seven school houses have been built, additional form
rooms and playing fields have been added, and crowning them all is the
Pears Hall, which bears the following inscription:—
IN HONOREM PRÆCEPTORIS OPTIMI
STEUART ADOLPHI PEARS S.T.P.
SCHOLÆ REPANDUNENSI PROPE VIGINTI ANNOS
PRÆPOSITI
UT INSIGNIA EJUS ERGA SCHOLAM ILLAM ANTIQUAM
BENEFICIA
MONUMENTO PERPETUO IN MEMORIAM REVOCARENTUR
HOC ÆDIFICIUM
AMICI ET DISCIPULI EJUS EXSTRUENDUM CURAVERUNT
A.S. MDCCCLXXXVI.
THE OLD HOMES OF THE COUNTY
By J. A. Gotch, F.S.A.
The old houses of Derbyshire are remarkable both for their number and
for the variety of architectural periods which they illustrate. In them
may be traced the development of domestic architecture, century by
century, from the time of William Rufus down to the Georges. Not only
are they interesting as a guide to the evolution of style, but also in
their variety of size and importance. There is the small and ancient
Peak Castle; the comparatively modern palace of Chatsworth; the great
house of Haddon, with work of every century from the thirteenth to the
seventeenth; the extensive ruins of Wingfield; the splendid remains of
Bolsover; while among the dales and on the hill sides of the northern
parts of the county are many diminutive manor houses, like Offerton
and Highlow, or Snitterton and North Lees. Not only are there houses
innumerable, but also many remains of the charming settings in which
they were placed; ancient gardens like those at Melbourne; simple
lay-outs, with terrace, steps, and paved walks like that at Eyam;
quaint archways, like those at Tissington and Bradshaw. In the south of
the county, near Sudbury, are several highly interesting half-timbered
houses, of which the hall of Somersal Herbert, of three distinct dates,
is the most striking instance. There is, indeed, hardly any point of
interest connected with the amenities of by-gone house architecture
which is not illustrated in this charming county.
The Peak Castle is an interesting example of the early manner of house
building. It is a kind of midland pele-tower, resembling those small
fortified dwellings, or watch-towers, or outlying forts, which abound
in Northumberland along the Scottish border. Indeed, it is a specimen
on a small scale of what all its contemporaries were like. It consisted
of a keep and a courtyard, defended from attack by a strong wall on
one side and natural precipices on the others. Most of the castles of
that time consisted of little more. The keep was the dwelling-house,
the courtyard was the fortified enclosure, giving breathing space
and serving as a place of refuge in troublous times for the cattle
and dependants of the lord. Great keeps like those at Rochester, in
Kent, or Hedingham, in Essex, or Kenilworth, in Warwickshire, or (to
judge from its foundations) Duffield, the Derbyshire house of the
Ferrers, were tolerably well found, and provided what might then be
considered luxurious abodes. This Castle of the Peak, in its original
state, contained the minimum of what was tolerable. It consisted of
only three storeys, one of which was partly underground, and it had no
fireplace; but in those days, more often than not, the fire was placed
in the middle of the floor, and the smoke found its way out through the
windows, supplemented, where possible, by a kind of ventilating turret
in the roof. It could not have been the residence of a large family,
and may have been little more than a watch-tower. But the probability
is that it was the home of its owner, and the amount of comfort which
the stay-at-home women of the family must have experienced may be
conceived by anyone who will seat himself in one of the window recesses
on a chilly day in summer, and gaze through the rain across the valley
on to the blurred mass of Lose hill.
[Illustration: The Castle of the Peak.]
Very different in size and in variety of interest is Haddon Hall; yet
Haddon Hall, like the Peak Castle, is no longer, according to modern
notions of comfort, a tolerable dwelling, although we cannot agree
with Horace Walpole that it never could have been considered such. For
a long period it was the home of a powerful family, and was altered
again and again to meet the need which successive centuries demanded.
Parts of the chapel take us back to a date but little subsequent to
that of the Peak Castle; and although few, if any, remains of the rest
of the contemporary house are to be seen, yet the existence of the
chapel indicates that it pertained to a large house. It is easy to
understand that the discomforts of a primitive house would call for
remedy long before the chapel grew out of date, and we need not wonder
that the chapel should be the only surviving portion of the original
dwelling. The kind of accommodation to be found in a keep, however
large, grew to be insufficient and inconvenient, and it became the
fashion no longer to pile one room over another, but to spread them out
horizontally, and thereby, among other advantages, to assign to the
various rooms different sizes suitable to their different purposes.
The hall, always the chief apartment, was made the central feature;
the kitchens were attached to one end, the family rooms to the other;
the courtyard was enclosed by ranges of buildings looking into it, and
presenting little but blank walls to the outside world; through one
of these ranges was pierced the entrance gateway, defended by strong
doors, and sometimes a portcullis, such as rased Marmion’s plume as
he dashed in hot haste from under its falling mass. Haddon is a good
illustration of this kind of house, only it has two courts, with the
hall placed between them, as well for greater security as to obtain
large windows on each of its main sides. There are very few windows
of the older rooms looking out into the country, and the kitchen
in particular suffers in this respect, for a darker apartment can
scarcely ever have been devoted to such important uses. The windows
of the long gallery, now called the ballroom, are large and airy;
but they date from Elizabeth’s time, when defensive precautions were
no longer necessary. Haddon appeals to all sorts and conditions of
men. Its romantic situation and venerable appearance delight the
ordinary sightseer; its veritable and unrestored antiquity appeals to
the more earnest student of by-gone ways; while to those interested
in the minute details of the past, it is a storehouse of all kinds of
work wrought in all kinds of styles. Surely, it has enough of true
and genuine interest to be able to dispense with the fictitious,
sixpenny-magazine romance of Dorothy Vernon. Let those who cling to her
invented story, and picture her as a fascinating, winsome heroine, go
and look at her portraiture on her monument in Bakewell Church—a more
staid, prosaic person could hardly be imagined.
Another romantically placed house is Bolsover Castle, which is
mentioned in ancient records as a sister stronghold of the Peak Castle.
Of the early building nothing is now left; but the sites of the keep
and of the enclosing wall are curiously preserved, and occupied
by highly interesting buildings of the early seventeenth century.
The keep is replaced by a square house, planned with considerable
ingenuity so as to obtain within a limited and strictly defined
space the customary arrangements of a Jacobean residence. It rises
abruptly from the brow of a steep hill, and looks far and wide over
the valley now studded with colliery chimneys. Within the thickness
of the wall which marks the _enceinte_ of ancient times are contrived
quaint chambers, carefully vaulted and furnished in some cases with
curious chimney-pieces. Indeed, this early seventeenth century work,
particularly in the successor of the keep, is quite remarkable in
respect of its vaulting and its fireplaces. Vaulting was very seldom
used in Jacobean work, yet here we have examples of that method of
construction which need not fear comparison with those of earlier days,
when masons were much more accustomed to its use. The chimney-pieces
at Bolsover are a noteworthy series, exhibiting a great variety of
treatment, yet preserving a family likeness, and adorned, most of them,
with unusual delicacy. This part of the castle was executed for Sir
Charles Cavendish, a son of the renowned Bess of Hardwick, about the
year 1613. The actual owner of Bolsover was Gilbert, seventh Earl of
Shrewsbury; but he had granted a lease of 1,000 years to Sir Charles,
who was at once his step-brother and his brother-in-law.
[Illustration: Bolsover Castle: “La Gallerie.”]
Outside the ancient precincts of this part of the castle stand the
ruins of a later building, lying parallel with the brow of the hill,
and leaving a broad terrace between the building and the sloping
ground. It is designed on a much larger and coarser scale than its
neighbour, and was built by Sir William Cavendish, son of Sir Charles,
about the year 1629.
It was this Sir William, subsequently created, after a distinguished
career, Duke of Newcastle, who wrote a celebrated treatise on
horsemanship, some plates of which he adorned with a view of his
Bolsover building. This he calls “La Gallerie,” and it was probably
intended as a supplement to the somewhat restricted accommodation of
the earlier house. The Duke was also responsible for another charming
portion of this interesting group of buildings at Bolsover, in the
shape of the Riding School, a structure which has a considerable Dutch
flavour about it.
Bolsover has been mentioned out of its strict chronological order
because of its early foundation and the peculiar manner in which
it preserves the outline of the original castle. It has a notable
predecessor in date at South Wingfield, where, about the middle of the
fifteenth century, Ralph, Lord Cromwell, treasurer to King Henry VI.,
built a lordly house, which vied with Haddon in importance. Much of
it has gone to hopeless ruin, but there still remain long stretches
of wall and decayed buildings forming two large courts. The outer
gatehouse is left, flanked by an ancient barn. Through the middle of
the range which divides the courtyard is pierced a second gateway, over
which are carved the purses of the Lord Treasurer. On the opposite
side of the second court is the porch of the house itself, leading on
one side to the great hall, with its vaulted undercroft, and on the
other to the kitchen department. Midway along one of the far-stretching
fronts rises a lofty tower, from the summit of which may be studied the
domestic economy of a colony of rooks as they sway below in their nests
among the topmost branches of the trees.
On the death of its builder, Wingfield passed by purchase to the Earls
of Shrewsbury, and in the fulness of time it passed to Gilbert, seventh
earl. On his death it went to his eldest daughter, who had married the
Earl of Pembroke. Then came the troublous times of Charles I., and
Wingfield, being held by the then Earl for the Parliament, who should
be sent to attack it but his kinsman, William Cavendish, of Bolsover,
Duke of Newcastle, and author of the treatise on horsemanship. The
attack was successful, but fickle fortune soon restored it to the
Parliament, and by order of that assembly the place was “slighted.”
From that drastic operation it has never recovered, although part of it
was for a time patched up and made into a residence.
Of work dating from the time of Henry VIII. the county can show hardly
any examples. Some panelling at Haddon is the most noteworthy, but this
lacks that peculiar mixture of Gothic and French renaissance which
makes the work of that time particularly interesting. Yet, even in this
panelling, put up by Sir George Vernon, the “King of the Peak,” as he
was called, although it is free from the actual renaissance touch,
there seem to be indications which point that way, and it forms one of
the links which connect the old style with the new, and goes to show
that in the development of architectural style no change came quite
abruptly.
[Illustration:
[_J. Buckler, 1812._
Haddon Hall (North View).
(_From a Water-colour Drawing in possession of Hon. F. Strutt, showing
16th Century Brewhouse, now removed._)]
During the next of the periods into which styles group themselves,
namely, that of Elizabeth and James I., there were notable additions
made to Derbyshire houses. There is all the beautiful work of the
Earl of Rutland at Haddon—of him who came into possession in right
of his wife, Dorothy Vernon. Chief among it is the long gallery,
which he formed among the ancient walls, pulling down here and adding
there, adorning it with handsome panelling and a fretted ceiling, all
ornamented with his own arms and those of his wife. There are Hardwick
Hall, and Barlborough; the remains of Swarkeston in the extreme south,
and Sudbury in the south-west, not to mention numerous manor houses
scattered all over the county.
Hardwick Hall is, in some respects, one of the most interesting of
Derbyshire houses. It is an excellent example of the stately and
symmetrical planning which was much in vogue in the days of Elizabeth,
and it has survived without any serious alterations, except such as
were necessary for the comfort of modern life. Haddon has not been
obliged to submit to this test, and therefore retains even more of its
original flavour; but Hardwick illustrates vividly the large ideas and
the desire for magnificence which dominate much of the design of that
period. Moreover, it retains what very few of its contemporaries can
boast of—its entrance gatehouse and garden walls. The builder was the
renowned Bess of Hardwick, one of the great Elizabethan builders, a
worthy rival of the Cecils and Hattons. She claims on her monument in
All Hallows’ Church, Derby, to have built Hardwick, Chatsworth, and
Oldcotes; but the last-named has disappeared, and Chatsworth has been
rebuilt, leaving this house as her sole monument. The legend runs that
so long as she kept building she would not die, but that a long frost
occurring while she was engaged upon Bolsover, the men were obliged to
desist from their work, and thereby struck the knell of their mistress.
But we have already seen that Bolsover was the work of her son, and
that it was not begun until six or seven years after her death.
The work at Hardwick presents the most complete contrast to that at
Bolsover. There everything had to be restricted to the narrow limits
of the old site; all the work is carefully designed, and much of it
delicately executed. Here the arrangements are far from compact, and
the detail is coarse. No particular ingenuity has been exercised. The
staircases are merely flights of steps, without any of the charming
balustrades and newel-posts which adorn most Elizabethan staircases.
The windows are so overdone in order to produce a striking external
effect, that many of them are mere shams, and never were anything else,
while others have a floor going across them, and light one storey with
their lower lights and another with their upper. But it is just these
points which lend interest to the place, and show how everything had to
give way to the prevailing passion for symmetry.
There are some fine rooms on the top storey: the presence chamber,
with a deep frieze of modelled plaster exhibiting a variety of hunting
scenes; the library, with a charming relief over the fireplace of
Apollo and the Muses; the long gallery, a characteristic apartment of
the age; and a room called after “Mary Queen of Scots,” but bearing the
date 1599, which was twelve years subsequent to her death. It is true,
however, that Mary was placed for some years under the custody of the
Earl of Shrewsbury, who was husband of Bess of Hardwick (her fourth
venture), and it is also not improbable that the wife was inclined to
be jealous of the influence which the royal captive obtained over her
husband.
[Illustration: Haddon Hall (North View), _circa_ 1825.
(_From a Water-colour Drawing in possession of Hon. F. Strutt, showing
16th Century Brewhouse, now removed._)]
The documentary evidences of Mary’s long period of custody are
copious; they afford no suggestion of her visiting Hardwick, but she
was on several occasions at Bess’s other great house at Chatsworth.
Moreover, the true dates of the second hall at Hardwick make the
Queen’s sojourn here an impossibility. The date usually assigned to
Hardwick Hall is 1576, but the dates actually appearing in the house
are 1588, 1597, and 1599, all subsequent to Mary’s death. The parapet
is ornamented with Bess’s initials, E.S., and a coronet.
In front of the house which Bess built lie the ruins of that in which
she was born. This, also, must have been a good house, but one of the
older manor-house type, and not conforming to the new and fashionable
order of things. Nevertheless, it was adorned from time to time to
suit the prevailing fancy, and both it and its more splendid offspring
flourished side by side for many years. It offers another example of
the fact that so strong was the desire among those who could afford it
to build afresh in the new style, that in many instances houses built
in Henry VIII.’s time were either rebuilt in Elizabeth’s or, as here
at Hardwick, were suffered to remain and to add point by their modest
dimensions to the extent and splendour of the newer dwelling.
At Hardwick, the old custom of building round a court, which we have
met with at Haddon and Wingfield, was abandoned; the idea of adopting
defensive precautions had no part in its arrangement—it was frankly
intended for display and cheerfulness. But the courtyard still survived
up and down the country, although rather for convenience than for
defence. In some cases it became so contracted as to be little more
than a well, admitting a modicum of light and air. Such contracted
courts are both cheerless and insanitary, especially when they were
made the meeting place of the household drains; and in many instances
they have been roofed over in modern times and incorporated into the
house itself.
Barlborough, in the north-east corner of the county, is a case in
point. It is a house with an interesting plan, being almost square
in shape, yet contriving to obtain the kind of rooms and the general
disposition which were usual at the time. The effect is quaint,
especially as the octagonal bays are carried up above the roof to form
turrets. The small central court has been converted into a staircase.
The builder was Francis Rodes, a judge, like many of the builders of
Elizabethan houses. It is almost contemporary with Hardwick, as it was
built in 1583–84. It bears its date on the pedestal of the pillars
flanking the front door, and students of by-gone architecture cannot
be too thankful to the old masons for having dated their work so
frequently as they did. Nor is our gratitude less for the fashion which
made heraldry one of the chief sources of ornamentation. No doubt the
display of arms and badges was a weakness of the worthy people of that
age. It is even conceivable that men who achieved their own fortunes,
as many did under Elizabeth, unduly emphasized their ancient descent,
and occasionally recorded as facts what really were surmises. But
anyone who has spent time in ferreting out the history of an old house
is very willing to condone this foible in return for the clues with
which it furnishes him.
Far be it from us, however, to throw any doubt on Francis Rodes’s
heraldry; it serves to fix beyond a doubt who was the builder of
Barlborough. In the drawing-room is a handsome, lofty chimney-piece,
which is quite characteristic of the times. It displays the arms and
the effigies of Francis Rodes and his two wives, and is dated 1584.
There seems to have been no hesitation in those days about second
marriages. Whatever poets may have said about the marriage of true
minds, and the lasting passion of one man for one woman, neither man
nor woman forbore from marrying again and again, nor did they conceal
from the later spouses the charms and the arms of the earlier. Here,
for instance, on this chimney-piece are the arms, the name, and the
office of Francis Rodes set forth at large, and below are two other
shields with his arms impaling severally those of his two wives,
each shield being supported by a representation of himself and the
wife whose arms are impaled. To remedy any defect in the sculptor’s
portraiture, or for the benefit of future generations who knew not
the ladies in the flesh, their names are legibly printed at their
sides—“Elizabeth Sandford,” “Maria Charleton.”
[Illustration: Snitterton Hall.]
So far, all the houses mentioned have been of considerable size or
well-established fame; but scattered about the county, in small
villages or among the dales or on the hill-sides, are numerous manor
houses, the homes of the small gentry or of the well-to-do yeomen.
There are some of these near Hathersage, several of which belonged to
various branches of the family of Eyre. North Lees is one, in a retired
situation and falling to decay, at least so far as its decoration is
concerned; one deserted room still retains some of its panelling and a
fretted ceiling. Its stone walls, mullioned windows, and bold chimneys
lend an air of romance to the house half-hidden among the trees.
Highlow Hall is another of the group, chiefly notable for the quaint
gateway which leads to the entrance court. Not far away is Offerton
Hall, now a farmhouse, but an excellent example of the planning
and simple architectural treatment of a small house of the early
seventeenth century. Near Matlock is Snitterton Hall, the remains of a
rather more considerable house, with remnants of a lay-out, and with
many of its contemporary farm buildings. These are but a few of those
which might be named, and the wanderer in out-of-the-way places will
often be rewarded by the discovery of these links with the past.
There is no notable example within the county of the work of the later
seventeenth century, of the time rendered famous by Inigo Jones and
Sir Christopher Wren. But of the period which succeeded them, when the
rules of classic architecture were firmly established, and spontaneity
in design had given way to propriety, there are one or two specimens.
Of these the most characteristic is Kedleston. This great house was
designed in the grandest manner of the time. It was to have had a large
central block, with four outlying pavilions attached to it by curved
colonnades, but two of the pavilions were never built. This place well
illustrates the prevalent method of designing mansions. The principal
floor was devoted to functions of state, and is occupied by large and
lofty apartments, far too huge for comfort. They resemble apartments
in some large public building. The family rooms are tucked away in a
basement beneath the state apartments. It was the fashion of the age.
Architecture was chiefly a means for display; the noble conceptions of
the architect left his clients with scarce a comfortable corner for
themselves. The surroundings of the house are also characteristic. It
is itself placed in a somewhat haphazard position, backed by a range of
trees; the stables are concealed by trees, and approached by a covered
way; in the park is a bridge, so placed as to group in a casual way
with the house: the whole idea being to obtain a pictorial effect,
without any consideration for convenience of approach or convenient
arrangement when the house is reached.
Such were the _tours de force_ of the times, when wealth helped, and
there were no restraining conditions; when the architect had a free
hand to design, and the client another to pay. But in cases where the
opportunities were more limited, the results were more reasonable,
and such houses as Foremark are quite satisfactory. They have not the
sparkle of their predecessors, it is true, but they combine dignity
with comfort. Calke Abbey, lying hidden amid its ancient woodlands, is
another fine example of the time.
There are not a few good specimens of formal gardens in the county.
Haddon has terraced gardens which hardly receive the attention they
deserve, so much is the interest of the visitor absorbed by the house.
Eyam Hall, in the village rendered famous by the heroism and energy
of its rector during a visitation of the plague, has a simple
lay-out of walls and steps and formal paths. Locko rejoices in terraced
gardens judiciously laid out, and resulting in admirable though simple
effects. But the finest gardens are at Melbourne, in the south of the
county, where stately vistas cross each other and give distant glimpses
of urns or statues, which themselves are worth careful inspection
when at length they are reached. The effect is increased by placing
some notable feature, such as a fine vase, at the meeting of several
avenues; seen thus again and again from unexpected points, it adds to
the apparent extent and intricacy of the lay-out. There is a long walk
completely tunnelled over with dense yew hedges, and down in the bottom
is a placid pool where sportive cupids play.
[Illustration: North Lees Hall.]
[Illustration: Foremark Hall (Garden Front).]
Such is a brief glance at some of the more noteworthy houses of the
county; others there are waiting for the explorer to discover, as he
will do in almost any expedition he can make, whether it be among the
pasture land of the south, or the more bleak and invigorating hills
which culminate in the wild plateau of Kinder Scout.
WINGFIELD MANOR HOUSE
IN PEACE AND IN WAR
By G. le Blanc-Smith
Derbyshire, if unable to boast of that share of stirring episode with
which war and the hate of man have impregnated other counties, if
unable to show the numerous stately castles and religious houses of its
neighbouring shires, can at least proudly name a house which, while
being a gem of architecture, yet was so cunningly situated by its owner
as to prove a menace to the surrounding country, and a fortress which
required no mean ability to compass its surrender, at the same time
being of a nature so secure that it was used as the prison-house of the
greatest political prisoner in our island’s history.
Such is Wingfield Manor House; beautiful, stately, isolated, and—in
ruins; mansion, fortress, and prison. In no way does this manor house
resemble its more ambitious neighbour, Haddon Hall. Haddon is just as
weak, strategically, as Wingfield is strong, for the latter is perched
on a hill top, whose sides may be well described as precipitous, at
least on two sides. Another side of the hill, while less steep, is
useless for purposes of cavalry attack, whilst the fourth is more level
in character.
[Illustration: The Tower, and Rooms occupied by Mary Stuart: Wingfield.]
With the early history of the manor we have no concern, save in so far
as it affects that of the manor house. In the year 1440, the manorial
rights were vested in Ralph, Lord Cromwell, but his undoubted rights to
its possession were not absolutely proved till this date owing to
a prolonged law suit with Sir Henry Pierpoint over the finding of an
inquisition taken at Derby as long before as 1429. It was then found
that Ralph, Lord Cromwell—a man of immense wealth—was heir, _inter
alia_, to the estates, owing to his relationship with Margaret de
Swillington, heiress of John and Robert, her brothers. Briefly, Lord
Cromwell traced his descent from the family of De Heriz, who, in the
person of one Mathilda de Heriz, was connected by marriage ties to a
certain Thomas Beler, or Bellers. This man’s sister married Sir Ralph
Cromwell, and owing to these marriage ties Lord Cromwell laid claim to
the property, as being a descendant of a de Heriz, whilst Sir Henry
Pierpoint, on his side, claimed an equal right to possession as being
a descendant of Sarah de Heriz and Robert Pierpoint; Sarah being aunt
to the member of the same family from whom Lord Cromwell proved his
descent, _i.e._, Mathilda, who married Thomas Beler. Why the family of
de Swillington was introduced it is hard to understand; but perhaps it
was in the nature of a red herring, used to draw the scent from a good
point in the adversary’s case, or to cover a weak spot in the claim of
the opposite side.
However, it is with the fortunes of Lord Cromwell that we are
concerned, and we find that, three years after his possession was
assured to him, he was taken under the wing of King Henry VI., and was
enriched by appointment to the lucrative posts of Treasurer of the
Exchequer,[39] Constable of Nottingham Castle, and Steward and Keeper
of Sherwood Forest. Within the next two or three years he was further
advanced in royal favour and finances by being appointed Master of the
Royal Hounds and Falcons. From these appointments it may be fairly
deduced that he was a good financier and even better sportsman.
[39] The emblem of this office, double money bags, is carved over the
entrance gate to the inner courtyard.
Shortly after his lawsuit was satisfactorily settled, he proceeded to
erect the beautiful manor house. He did not, however, live to enjoy
his new possession for very long, as he died January 4th, 1455, being
buried in a church which his enormous wealth had enriched, _i.e._,
Tatteshall, Lincolnshire. Ralph, Lord Cromwell, sold the reversion
of this manor during his lifetime to John Talbot, second Earl of
Shrewsbury, who was to occupy it after his (Cromwell’s) death. The
new owner had much to do in the way of roofing and plastering his new
possession, so we may safely conclude that it was far from finished
by Lord Cromwell. Owing to the condition of the fabric, its new owner
was unable to inhabit it for some time; but after spending large sums
of money in roofing, etc., he finally occupied it in 1458, coming into
residence with a numerous retinue. After his death at Northampton,
in 1460, the manor and manor house descended in his family for many
years, being apparently a much favoured country seat. The death of his
grandson, the fourth earl, here was apparently quite unexpected, for,
on July 6th—only twenty days before his death—he humbly prayed, through
the Earl of Southampton, that King Henry VIII. would deign to visit his
“pore house at Wynfeld and hunt in Duffelde Frithe” on his approaching
visit to Nottingham.
The following account of his funeral is quoted from Holmes’ MSS. (Harl.
Lib.):—
“The xxvi of July Anno Regis Hen. viii tricesimo, departed out of this
world the right noble & puissant George, Earl of Shrewsbury & Lord
Talbot, Furnival, Verdon & Strange of Blackmoor, & High Steward of the
King’s most honble. household etc. on the 27^{th} of March (?) this
noble earl was removed from Wynefield to Sheffield with women and tall
yeomen, & the same night his dirige done & his body honourably buried.
“The morrow after his masses solempnely sung—,first one of the
Trenitie, another of Or. Lady, and the third of Requiem.”
The fifth earl, Francis, was born in 1500. At the age of forty-four he
was made Lieut.-General of the North; a year later he was installed
Knight of the Garter, and was later made Justice in Eyre of the forests
north of the Trent. He was a commissioner in the trial of Sir Nicholas
Throckmorton, a leading light in Wyatt’s insurrection, who was tried
and found “not guilty” by the jury; but the judges, in their wrath at
this finding, compelled the jury to enter into recognizances of £500
each for their appearance in the famous Star Chamber when called upon.
On their appearance, as desired, the unfortunate men were thrown into
prison for daring to give judgment according to their consciences.
The fifth earl died on September 21st, 1560, and was followed by his
son George in the possession of Wingfield.
It is to this sixth Earl of Shrewsbury, and to his times, that we owe
much of the glamour and interest of Wingfield’s history, owing to the
fact that for well nigh sixteen years he was the custodian of that
unhappy lady, Mary Queen of Scots. For various lengthy periods the poor
harassed Queen was a close prisoner within the all-too-hospitable walls
of this manor house. The Earl’s charge of Queen Mary was no sinecure it
seems, as according to Blore:—
“In this service he preserved his fidelity to Elizabeth unshaken;
but he was so perpetually teized (_sic_) by her suspicions and those
of her ministers, that his office, which might otherwise have been
desirable to so great a nobleman, as a distinguished mark of honour
and confidence, appears to have inflicted upon him a severity of
punishment little inferior to that of his unfortunate captive. The
fear of Elizabeth’s displeasure induced him, at times, to a moroseness
in his behaviour to Mary, which implanted in her bosom sentiments of
distaste and resentment, that her high spirit could not be subdued,
by her sufferings, to dissemble; whilst at other times by real or
colourable marks of kindness and attention to Mary, he drew upon
himself the malevolence of a wife, ever alive to jealousy and prepared
to empoison his comforts, and the suspicions and rebukes of his Queen,
who had no trifling satisfaction in mortifying and humiliating the
greatest of her subjects.”
He was, in other words, “between the devil and the deep sea.” The
custody of the prisoner Queen was first placed in Lord Shrewsbury’s
hands during January, 1569, while he was in residence at Tutbury
Castle; her removal to Wingfield took place on April 20th of the same
year.
Three weeks later she was suddenly and mysteriously seized with a
violent attack of some malady, which caused grave anxiety to her
custodian. Two physicians were promptly dispatched by the Privy Council
to undertake her cure, and these worthies gave but a bad account of
the sanitary conditions of her prison quarters. Their report seems to
have considerably nettled the Earl of Shrewsbury, who retorted that
“the very unpleasant and fulsome savour, in the next chamber, hurtful
to her health” was directly owing to the “continual festering and
uncleanly order of her own folke.” Since the cause was known to him,
it seems strange that he did not try to do something to better it. The
unfortunate Queen was removed with all speed to Chatsworth—where her
moated bower still remains—for this princely residence was brought to
the Earl by his second matrimonial venture, Elizabeth, better known as
“Bess of Hardwick.”
June 1st once more saw her installed in her old apartments at
Wingfield, they having been cleaned and sweetened. In the following
August she once more fell ill of the same malady, and requested the
Earl to find her another prison-house. She was therefore removed to
Tutbury, between which place and Sheffield she alternated for the next
fifteen years. Once more her custodian had to complain that his mansion
and her rooms, “in consequence of the long abode here and the number of
people, waxes unsavoury.” This is hardly to be wondered at when it is
remembered that at her second period of captivity at Wingfield, after
fifteen years’ absence, the poor Queen’s personal attendants numbered
47 persons in all: 5 gentlemen, 14 servitors, 3 cooks, 4 boys, 3
gentlemen’s men, 6 gentlewomen, 2 wives, and 10 wenches and children.
The year 1584 again saw the captive Queen at Wingfield, and the Privy
Council proposed that she should be incarcerated in the castle of
Melbourne, also in Derbyshire; but, owing to the fact that there were
structural alterations of an extensive nature required there, it
was decided to saddle the poor Earl of Shrewsbury with his weighty
responsibility once more. Orders to this effect were dispatched to
him on March 20th, 1584, till such time as Melbourne Castle was
prepared—which never came to pass. These orders to the Earl commanded
the removal of the Queen from Sheffield to Wingfield, and “that for
the more safety in conveying the said Queene, in case you shall find
it necessary, for your assistance you may use the ayde of the sheriffs
of our countys of Derby and Leicester.” Whilst the Earl’s duties
to his sovereign kept him at Court, the Queen’s custody was in the
hands of Sir Ralph Sadleir, Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, and
a distinguished soldier. Sir Ralph wrote, on August 25th, 1584, to
Sir Francis Walsyngham, and informed him that he had begged the Earl
of Shrewsbury not to transport the Queen to Wingfield till further
instructions from the Sovereign were received. He continues by saying
that he would rather “keep her here (Sheffield Castle) with 60 men than
at Wingfield with 300.” In a paper read before the members of the Royal
Archæological Institute, then visiting the manor house, by the Rev. J.
Charles Cox, the author stated that:
“having carefully gone through the whole of the documents in the
Public Record Office pertaining to Mary Queen of Scots, as well as the
little known Talbot papers at the College of Arms, and the Shrewsbury
papers at the Lambeth Palace Library, I have come to the conclusion,
for reasons that would be far too long to now explain, that the Earl
of Shrewsbury, worn out by the jealousy, meanness, and cruelty of his
wife, as well as by the suspicions and displeasure of Queen Elizabeth
and her Council, and filled with a growing sympathy for his prisoner,
did his best to bring about this second sojourn at Wingfield in the
hopes of her escape.”
An excellent guard was placed over the Queen, for Sir Ralph Sadleir
set a watch of eight soldiers at night time, taking turns in watches
of four, to patrol the immediate vicinity of the Queen’s apartments in
the inner courtyard. Two other soldiers kept a day and night watch in
the house itself, at the entrance to her rooms.
The captive Queen arrived in September, 1584, for this second enforced
visit, with a huge retinue, which must have seriously taxed the
accommodation of the manor house. The Earl of Shrewsbury had 120
gentlemen, yeomen, and servants; Sir Ralph Sadleir followed suit with
50, whilst there were 40 trained men at arms. Including the prisoner’s
personal retinue, there were 257 persons herded together within these
walls, the Queen and her suite occupying fifteen rooms; yet, despite
guards and precautions, one man alone was able to plot with the Queen
herself for her release.
The daring plot was the child of the fertile brain of one Anthony
Babington, whose family seat was at Dethick, about five miles to the
west. Babington was in a way a fanatic, and the pity for, and desire
to liberate, his beloved Queen was the mania which brought him to the
scaffold. Stained with walnut juice, and disguised in gipsy garb, he is
said to have constantly visited the captive, and a curious tale is told
of his visits. Just outside the Queen’s rooms grows a huge walnut tree,
and tradition hath it that this tree is sprung from a walnut dropped by
Babington himself when on one of his surreptitious visits.
[Illustration: The Porch of Banqueting Hall: Wingfield.]
This plot was not the first having the same end in view, for in 1569
a certain Leonard Dacre was implicated. Now if this was a relation of
the Earl of Shrewsbury’s, through his mother, Mary Dacre, the Earl may
well have been the instigator of the plot, for we have seen how little
he cared what became of his charge. What is more likely than that he
should choose Dacre, a relative, to assist the enterprise—and bear the
blame—as a blood tie would be less an object of suspicion, and at the
same time more loyal to his employer? Dacre’s plot at once aroused the
slumbering suspicions of Elizabeth, and she, giving as a reason that
Lord Shrewsbury’s health was not of the best, directed the Earl of
Huntingdon to watch the Queen. The immediate outcome was a reduction in
her retinue to thirty persons, with the object of avoiding the influx
or substitution of suspicious persons. Other futile attempts, devoid of
interest, were made at various times and by various persons to effect
the release of this interesting prisoner.
It is easy to understand how in a house like this, teeming with menials
and servants, the substitution of a servant for a spy or messenger
for Mary Stuart would be an easy matter. The kitchen staff must have
been enormous, as, according to Sir Ralph Sadleir’s report, the daily
meals of the Queen “on Fishe days and Flesh days” consisted of “about
16 dishes dressed after their owne manner, sometimes more or less, as
the provision serveth.” The price of necessary foodstuffs at Wingfield
at the time was not high according to present day reckoning, for “a
good ox cost £4, sheep £7 a score, veal and other meats reasonable
good charge, about 8s.” Wheat was priced at £1 a quarter; malt at 16s.
a quarter; hay 13s. 4d. a load; oats 8s. a quarter; and peas 12s. for
the same quantity. The drink bill—no small item in those days—run up by
Queen Mary was for ten tuns of wine annually.
The captive’s linen was provided by the Earl of Shrewsbury, for
that supplied by Queen Elizabeth was declared to be “nothing of it
serviceable, but worn and spent.”
The before-mentioned report of Sir Ralph Sadleir states that the
Queen’s stable held four good coach horses of her own; her gentlemen
had six, and the total number kept was about forty.
It would thus seem easy for a stranger to obtain a post among such
numbers without a fresh face being observed, and in the crowded
kitchens the entrance of a disguised stranger through the little door
opening towards Dethick and the west would possibly be unobserved.
Then, among the number of servants some might be won over by a bribe,
a note concealed in food might reach the Queen; or among the stable
helps one might be found who could give news to the captive for some
trifling reward. Chances seem to have existed on every hand. But to
return to the ill-fated Babington. Babington had been brought up by
his mother and two guardians in an atmosphere of stout but secret
Roman Catholicism, and no doubt his situation at the age of sixteen
as Queen Mary’s page was productive of a chivalrous love for the fair
captive. At nineteen years of age he was the moving spirit in a plot
to conceal two Jesuits; and three years later his thoughts reverted
to the release of the Queen, whose plight had so strongly appealed
to his youthful mind. The following year he formed a plot for Mary’s
release and Queen Elizabeth’s assassination; but all the while the
busy spies of Walsyngham were quietly collecting material from the
correspondence relative to his cherished scheme, and were suiting their
actions to his, with a view to successfully foiling his attempt. He
was hunted down, but escaped till 1587, when he was caught and tried
with a dozen other well-born youths, and met his death on September
20th at Lincoln’s Inn Fields. In the report of the apprehension of the
conspirators is the following:—
“The names of sooche as are touched as made partyes of the
confideracye,” followed by the names of Ballard, Savage, Tycheborne,
G. Gifford, St. Donne, Tylney, and Gage; “and there were,” the report
continues, “13 who were at large, vizt., Babington, Barnewell,
Salisbury,” etc.
The Queen, who was removed from Wingfield on January 13th, 1585, was
incarcerated at Tutbury. A curious tradition of late years has been
put forward; it is to the effect that _her son was born at Wingfield_!
The authority for this has been traced to a statement in a guide book
to the effect that “Mary Stuart was made a prisoner, and it was at
Wingfield Manor that she spent part of her confinement.” This erroneous
reading has obtained a footing, and should be promptly eradicated. Thus
is “history” made.
On the death of the seventh Earl of Shrewsbury, his three daughters,
co-heiresses, divided the estates, Wingfield falling to the eldest,
Lady Pembroke. The new owners were now in troublous times, and during
the Civil Wars the manor house was stoutly held for the Parliamentary
forces. The little garrison of about one hundred men at arms was
reduced to sixty at the request of the Parliamentary leader, Fairfax,
who was forcing his way northwards into Yorkshire. Sir John Gell
complied with the request in 1643, and left the house too weakly
defended; the close of the same year saw a vigorous and successful
attack by the Royalist troops under the Earl of Newcastle, and the
manor house, after a twelve days’ struggle, was occupied on December
19th. On the day following Sir John Gell arrived, and proceeded to
stir up the new owners, who were as yet far from fully acquainted with
their new quarters. Preliminary skirmishes took place in the vicinity,
in which two columns of horse lost their colours, these being sent to
London by the triumphant Gell.
The Earl of Newcastle passed on the command to Sir John Fitzherbert, of
Tissington, who held the house for six months. The Wingfield garrison
proving troublesome to the Parliamentary forces, Sir John Gell was
told off to retake the manor house, which he did with difficulty, as
it required all the forces at his command, reinforced with 200 foot of
Colonel Hutchinson’s. Gell sent to Nottingham for troops, asking for
“assistance to beleaguer Wingfield Manor, because it was as great an
annoyance to Nottinghamshire as to Derbyshire.” This diplomatic request
was productive of the desired result. Strict siege was laid to the
manor house for fifteen days, after which Gell’s troops were called off
to repel a threatened Royalist attack; this they accomplished to their
satisfaction, and they once more returned to the siege. The naturally
strong situation of the house was nearly an insurmountable obstacle
to Gell, and he found that unless his artillery was considerably
reinforced by heavier pieces, he should be compelled to starve the
gallant little band out as the only practicable means of reducing their
fortress to submission. This plan was evidently not to his liking, as
he was likely at any time to be set upon by small bodies of Royalist
troops, whose harassing action would compel a temporary raising of the
siege, and consequently a corresponding influx of provisions to the
defenders during the absence of the beleaguering troops. He therefore
requested heavier pieces of ordnance from Major-General Crawford, and
on receipt of his new artillery he set to work to make a breach in the
walls with all dispatch. So great was his success and so true his fire
that after only three hours’ assault with his “foure great peeces for
battering,” the whole defending force of 220 men surrendered themselves
on condition that every man should be allowed to return home unharmed.
It is hard to determine whether it was fear of the ultimate result
of the use of these heavy guns, or the sight of the actual damage
done, which caused this sudden collapse of the defence on the day of
the great assault, July 20th, 1644. The heavy guns were, it is said,
situated on the flat ground on the east of the house, and on the other
side of the valley—a distance of one and a quarter miles. Some assert
that the range from here (Pentrich Moor) was too great, and that the
guns were brought round to the west side and placed in a wood, a breach
being opened from there. Should this have been the case, the breach
would be in the south-west angle of the larger courtyard, and the
approach to this is of such a nature that an entry would be a matter
of difficulty. The necessity of an armed assault on the breach was
nullified by the collapse of the defence.
[Illustration: The Window in the Banqueting Hall: Wingfield.]
The death of the Royalist governor, Colonel Dalby, who succeeded
Colonel Roger Molineux, can have had no part in causing the surrender,
for, according to Pilkington, he was traitorously shot by a deserter,
who had recognized him despite his disguise of a common soldier, and
who is said to have put his musket through a hole in the wall of the
porter’s lodge and shot him in the face. Pilkington also asserts that
one of the cannon-balls which he saw weighed 32 lbs.! This was in 1789.
The surrendered garrison was a resourceful one it appears, as the
besiegers either having cut off the water supply (presumably in pipes)
or else seized the source of this necessary fluid, they promptly dug a
well in the south courtyard, and therefrom secured a sufficient supply.
This well fell in about 1850, and the hole was filled up.
An old account of the capture of the manor house runs thus:—
“Colonell Gell finding that his ordinance would do noe good against
the Mannor and understanding that Major General Craford had foure
great peeces, sent two of his officers unto him to desier him to send
them for three or foure days for battering; and in soe doinge he would
doe the countrey good service, because it was a place that could not
bee otherwise taken without they were pined (starved) out.”
The stirring times of war now left the house, and its further use as a
fortress was nullified by an order for its dismantling on June 23rd,
1646.
The fabric of the house now went from bad to worse as it passed from
one owner to another. Twenty years after the order for its dismantling
was received, it was occupied by one Imanuel Halton, an auditor of the
Duke of Norfolk. As a man of culture and learning he was more or less
distinguished, being especially noted as an astronomer; while allowing
much of the fabric to fall into ruins, he amused himself by decorating
the crumbling walls with sun-dials, two of which remain. A piece of
gross vandalism was perpetrated by this worthy, for he converted the
magnificent banqueting hall into a two-floored dwelling-house, with
chimneys in the centre, and made ugly structural alterations to the
north windows to suit his convenience. The Halton family continued to
enjoy the air of Wingfield, and to pull the manor house about, for
the next hundred years, till, in 1744, the “powers that were” decided
to pull down the lovely building, which they utilized as a convenient
quarry from which to obtain stone for the erection of a truly ugly
house—described as “a small box at the foot of the hill”—which is the
present Hall. After this disgraceful exploit, the progress of decay was
practically unchecked, and at this day the buildings are deteriorating
more and more rapidly under the changes of our capricious climate.
In the _Topographer_, by Shaw, vol. i., of 1789 (only fifteen years
after the removal of the family residence to the new hall), it is
stated that the roof was gone from the banqueting hall, and that all
the arms and quarterings of the great family of Shrewsbury were open
to the destructive influences of the weather. This was in 1789, yet in
1785—only four years previously—a sketch by Colonel Machell shows the
banqueting hall as roofed and glazed. At the close of the eighteenth
century a great part of the banqueting hall—between the lovely oriel
window and the porch—fell down; about a quarter of a century later a
tower in the south-east angle of the inner courtyard (at the back of
the present farmhouse) collapsed utterly.
The statement often made that no less a person than the much maligned
Oliver Cromwell was present at the fall of the manor house in person
is, of course, a fiction used by some for the greater entertainment of
visitors to the house. Nevertheless, it is a curious coincidence that
by the power of a Lord Cromwell these magnificent buildings were raised
from the ground, and that by the power and will of another Cromwell
they were razed, in places, to the ground, but two hundred years
separating the two events, and including much history of more than
local interest.
The actual buildings form one of the most beautiful examples of
fifteenth century domestic architecture to be found in the kingdom;
hence Wingfield is far better known to the architectural student than
to the historian. Of the present state of the walls, the less said and
seen the better. To look at them recalls the lines from _Idylls of the
King_ (Geraint and Enid):—
“All was ruinous.
Here stood a shatter’d archway plumed with fern
And here had fall’n a great part of a tower,
Whole, like a crag that tumbles from a cliff,
And like a crag was gay with wilding flowers:
And high above a piece of turret stair,
Worn by the feet that now are silent, wound
Bare to the sun, and monstrous ivy stems
Claspt the gray walls with hairy-fibred arms,
And sucked the joining of the stones, and look’d
A knot, beneath, of snakes, aloft, a grove.”
It is a pitiable sight to see some of the most beautiful and
interesting parts of the grand old house in such a deplorable and
tottering state. Nothing so much enhances the value, sentimentally,
of an ancient building as a considerable fall of its walls; then, of
course, a great outcry is raised—when it is too late. It is not the
decay of past years which must be viewed with alarm, but the steady,
increasing hold which ruin is obtaining on this structure. “Gutta cavat
lapidem non vi, sed semper cadendo,” is a good maxim to remember, but
if remembered in this case, it has never been thought sufficiently true
to be worth acting upon. So year by year the stones fall and the mortar
crumbles, the ivy, trees, etc., force their way between the stones, the
frost shells off the fine, smooth surface of the ashlar, and the wind
carries destruction, and future destruction in the form of seedlings,
into every part of the beautiful buildings; and the people look on and
admire the craft of their forefathers, but they do not stretch forth a
hand to save what gives them pleasure. Their country has given them a
great treasure, and they enjoy it and value it; they value it so much
that they will see not one stone left upon another before they resort
to methods of salvation; it is a ruin, it was a ruin, let it remain a
ruin, they say. Some day it will be a ruin of such a nature that none
shall recognize its likeness to a building, for when it falls down the
steep hillsides, “great will be the fall thereof,” and the noise of
its fall will be equalled only by the noise of lamentation at such a
catastrophe.
The manor house consists of two courtyards, of which the southern
is the larger, whilst the northern one contains the more beautiful
specimens of architecture. The extreme length of the house is 416 feet,
with a total width of 256 feet. There are two entrances to the south
courtyard, one on the east in the southern corner and another on the
west. The north courtyard is entered from the southern one by a fine
gateway, flanked by two turrets, and the north wall is likewise pierced
by a now destroyed entrance of fine proportions. There is also a small
ogee-headed doorway opening into the kitchens on the west side. The
south courtyard was bounded on the east by the retainers’ quarters, now
a crumbling ruin; on the south by the fine old barn, still excellently
preserved, and also the stables, long since destroyed. The west side,
with its sally port, was formed by the quarters of the guards, and the
north of the courtyard still retains the mutilated range of buildings
which form the southern bounds of the north quadrangle. The farmhouse,
which is now occupied, is a mere shell, as all the interior is modern.
The north courtyard has the great tower at its south-west angle,
and from here, up the west side, runs the range of apartments once
occupied by Mary Queen of Scots. The north boundary is formed by the
kitchens on the west, the state apartments in the centre, and the grand
banqueting hall on the east. The eastern boundary of this courtyard
has disappeared, and here, it is conjectured, was the chapel, which no
doubt the Halton family utilized as a quarry, as being to them the
least useful part of the house. The southern boundary is formed by the
farmhouse and buildings already mentioned as being the northern limit
of the south court.
The glory of Wingfield Manor House is the banqueting hall, with its
undercroft beneath it. This noble chamber, now sadly mutilated, is 72
ft. 2½ in. long and 36 ft. 1 in. in width. The most notable feature
in this scene of by-gone revelry and lavish hospitality is the great
oriel window, a piece of architectural excellence hardly to be equalled
elsewhere in the kingdom. This beautiful projection is situated at the
east end of the south front of the hall, whilst at the opposite end of
the same side is a porch, which is well worthy of a place in the same
edifice as the above-mentioned window. This porch is of two floors;
the ground floor gives entrance to the banqueting hall, and is entered
by an archway of boldly conceived design, on which is cut a series
of handsome flower petals. On the right of the entrance is a little
traceried window, which can only be described as a glittering gem of
architecture. The battlements which still remain over porch and oriel
window are now denuded of their quartered shields, but the excellent
diapered pattern, consisting of quatrefoils, is still in almost its
pristine beauty.
The most striking feature of the manor house is part of the great
tower, which Wingfield’s old historian, Thomas Blore, has completely
omitted in his engraving. Though not of any great height, the aspect of
this towering sentinel is imposing.
The apartments which once sheltered Mary Queen of Scots are indeed in
a sad state of ruinous decay. Nothing remains but the outer walls,
with the fireplaces and chimneys, the former with nodding heads and
the latter with, apparently, a serious spinal complaint. The walls
themselves are scored by many a huge and gaping wound, not the wounds
of honour received in battle, but the wounds caused by the horrid
disease of decay unchecked and unheeded. It is sad to think that the
first part of the hitherto unbroken line of wall round this courtyard
to succumb to this fell disease will be the most interesting portion of
this historic house.
The kitchens, which lie between the Queen’s rooms and the banqueting
hall, are likewise in a sad state; the depressed form of arch
surmounting most of the doorways, despite the presence of “arches
of construction,” are fast bowing their heads beneath the weight of
masonry and the neglect of centuries. Adjoining the servants’ quarters
and the banqueting hall are the state apartments, lighted by a huge and
by no means beautiful window of Perpendicular times, if judged by the
standard of excellence obtaining elsewhere in the fabric. A curious
feature noticeable from the courtyard is the fact that this window,
like the little gem of a round one above and the traceried lights
below, is far from being central in the gable or in line with its
neighbours above and below.
[Illustration: The Undercroft: Wingfield.]
The undercroft, more often known as the crypt—an ecclesiastical term
possessing no right here—is of the same dimensions as the hall above.
The ceiling is composed of beautifully wrought stone groins, with
large circular bosses, cut with fine traceried designs; the springing
of the arches is from the walls on either side and the five stone
pillars in the centre respectively. This subterranean chamber has now
begun to show most unmistakable signs of the gross neglect which so
characterizes the remainder of the house, for the stone ribs of the
vaulting have fallen over the eastern entrance—and there they lie. The
entrances to this undercroft are four in number—one at the north-west
corner, one at the south-west, one at the south-east, and one in the
centre of the east end. Three of them communicate directly with the
banqueting hall above, whilst the fourth opens into the open air. This
cellar-like room has been described as the chapel, and also as the
retainers’ hall, but the general opinion of those whose opinion is
worthy of consideration is that it was a general store house for the
huge retinue of owner, guests, and prisoner; such was no doubt its use,
but what the intentions of its builders were is quite another question.
The inner courtyard with which I have just dealt is far better
preserved than its southern neighbour, which seems to have proved
a better mark for Gell’s big guns and Halton’s destructive genius
than the other. The entrance gate to the inner court is fairly well
preserved, but the greater part of the rest is in but a sorry plight.
The great entrance on the east is shorn of its upper storey, but the
adjoining barn is in a delightful state of repair, and is of a nature
to arouse the enthusiasm of students of our mediæval barns.
On the east side of the house were the old gardens, now presenting a
dismal appearance, for the sole surviving signs of the topiary work
of our forefathers are the broken ranks of a long line of stunted
yew trees; even these trees have not been spared of late years, and
the woodman’s axe has been responsible for considerable gaps. On
this side, too, remain traces of the old earthworks thrown up by the
Royalist garrison to repel the besiegers on this, the most weakly of
the naturally strong defences formed by the slope of the hill. In the
farmhouse reposes a collection of old cannon balls rescued from the
ruins, methods of destruction far preferable to the stealthy creeping
action of the prince of destroying agents—Unchecked Decay—now so busy
there.
Let us hope, however, that before it is too late a helping hand may
lay its healing touch on these walls which crown the slope, a spot
noiseless save for the thousand and one sounds of the neighbouring
farmyard, and that distant and discordant triumph of modernity, the
railway, which, thanks to the situation of the manor house on its hill,
finds no near approach.
BRADSHAW AND THE BRADSHAWES
By C. E. B. Bowles, M.A.
Chapel-en-le-frith, a little old-fashioned town in the heart of the
Peak, is fairly encompassed by a range of hills, one of the loftiest of
which, rising, indeed, to a height of 1,225 feet, is Eccles Pike. About
a mile and a half from the town, and on the southern slope of this
hill, which towers above it, safeguarding it from the cold blasts of
the north wind, stands the old homestead of the Derbyshire Bradshawes.
Built in the more peaceful times of the first Stuart King, Bradshaw
Hall is to-day a substantial witness to the fact that, unlike our
Georgian ancestors, they who lived in the time when James the First was
King were like ourselves—most appreciative of a home commanding a wide
expanse of land and sky, and yet beneath the friendly shelter of a hill.
[Illustration: Bradshawe Hall.]
The hall is girt on all sides by the lands which have formed part of
the domain for many centuries. Many of them, too, are known to-day by
the same names which have distinguished the various enclosures through
nearly all that time. The ground immediately below the hall on its
southern side was the old pleasance, and bears traces of having been
originally terraced. Here were the gardens and orchards, the latter
certainly in existence as early as 1542, being mentioned in a lease[40]
bearing date 20th April, 33 Henry VIII. Below them was the Home
Croft, a seven-acred field now called the Hall Meadow. The view from
these old pleasure grounds must have been very striking, extending as
it does right away to the Combs Moss and Valley, and looking towards
the Black Edge.
[40] _Derbyshire Archæological Journal_, vol. xxv., p. 59.
In the present day the view is certainly much enhanced by a large sheet
of water—the reservoir which supplies the Peak Forest Canal, for it has
all the appearance of a natural lake. About half an acre of this water
covers land which originally formed part of the Bradshaw domain.
On the east side of the hall lies a field known by the name of Hob
Hollin, at the back of which is the Hob Marsh. These are bounded on the
east by a field called “Little Park” and a pasture named “The Greavy
Croft.” This latter field was in ancient times a wood, probably planted
to protect the hall from the east winds. This is evident from an old
lease, dated “The assumption of our Lady in the 18 year of King Edward
IV. (15 Aug., 1478),” in which the description of the lands which
fell under it makes a special exception of “a wode calde ye Greyve
Crofte.”[41]
[41] _Derbyshire Archæological Journal_, vol. xxiv., p. 40.
Below the hall meadow lies the “Hollow Meadow,” the subject of a long
protracted dispute as to its ownership which ended in a law suit in
the year 1500. All these fields, with others lying above the hall, are
mentioned by name in a division of lands between William Bradshawe and
his nephew Richard for farming purposes, which is dated 20th April, 33
Henry VIII. (1542). The name Hollow Meadow, however, occurs in a deed
far earlier than this—being mentioned in a charter dated 6 Edward III.
(1332), where it is called “Holu-medue.” To the south of this field
lie some twenty-two acres of pasture, which are known by the name of
“The Turncrofts.” This land, probably originally “Town Crofts,” has
been so called as far back as 1398, when a grant of “seven acres of
land lying in Turncroft was made by John, son of John de Bradshawe,
senr., to William, son of John de Bradshawe, junr.” It is dated at
Chapel-en-le-Frith the Monday after the feast of St. James, 21 Rich. II.
In more than one deed there is evidence that at one time a
dwelling-house and farm buildings stood on this ground, and it then
formed a separate farm. For instance, William Redfern and Emmot, his
wife, were, on the 4th of October, 1458, granted a lease for ten years
of the Turncrofts, and later on, namely, from 1537 to 1543, Henry
Bradshawe and his wife Elizabeth were living there as tenants of their
nephew Richard, the then head of the family.
A long line of grass fields now extend along the side of the road as
far as the outskirts of Chapel-en-le-Frith. The larger portion of these
fields are to this day known by the name of “The Broad Marshes,” and
by this name they are referred to in deeds as early as 1429, at which
date a conveyance of land called Bradmersh was made by John Bradshawe,
of Bradshaw, to Wm. Bradshaw for trust purposes. In 1444, and again in
1457, leases of “The Bradmersh lands” are granted by Wm. Bradshawe, of
Bradshaw, to Roger Cooper, subject to an annuity already settled on his
mother Joyce.
That the Bradshawes have owned the lands now held by their lineal
descendant and representative from the times of the early Plantagenet
kings is proved by the deeds which have descended to him with the
lands. How long the homestead has occupied the identical site where the
present hall now stands cannot be ascertained. That this is not the
first residence of the Bradshawes erected there is certain, and it is
more than probable that they have never lived very far away from that
identical spot. The first Bradshaw residence of which there is any
documentary evidence must have been built about the years from 1215
to 1221. This is the period covered by an Assart Roll in the Record
Office, on which is recorded, among other interesting transactions
connected with the forest laws and customs, the various grants made
by King John and his son Henry III. of land in the forest of the High
Peak. It contains much information with respect to the ancestors of
many well-known North Derbyshire families. Among those to whom leave
was granted by the King for the erection of a dwelling-house are
several members of the Bradshawe family. From these it is not an easy
matter to select for certain the immediate ancestor of the man who
owned the land and built the house on Eccles Pike. A deed of grant has
descended from his Bradshawe ancestors to the writer of this article
dated at Chapel-en-le-Frith 6 Edward III. (1332), in which “Richard,
son of John de Bradschawe, granted to John de Bradschawe, my father,
and to Mary, his wife my mother, certain lands in Bowden.” Of these one
portion is described as being in Wytehaln feld, and another, called
Perts’ Acre, as situated near the Holumedue, which latter piece of
land there is not much doubt is identical with the Hollow Meadow. The
mention of the Wytehaln feld, or Whitehall field, in the deed would
suggest—as an ancestor to the above John—one Richard, son of William de
Bradshawe, who about the time of 19 Henry III. (1235), made an addition
to the land in Whitehall[42] which his father William had assarted at
some previous time. This is the more probable, because there has always
been a tendency to preserve Christian names in a family. But more than
one Bradshawe had grants at this date for the clearance of the forest
land in Whitehall. Ivo de Bradshawe and Walter de Bradshaw both held
land “in capite” of King John and his son Henry III.
[42] Whitehall and Whitehough adjoin, and are about a mile from
Bradshaw.
This Walter—son of another Walter de Bradshawe—and one Randolph de
Bradshawe, both built a house in Bowden, a part of Chapel-en-le-Frith,
in which a portion of the Bradshaw lands are situated to this day.
Thus it is quite possible that one of these houses is the original
Bradshaw Hall.
The Heralds’ Visitation begins the pedigree with a John de Bradshawe,
possibly son of Richard Bradshawe of the deed of 1332, who by his
marriage with Cicely, daughter of Thomas Foljambe, was father of
William, evidently identical with the William, son of John de
Bradshawe, junr., before mentioned, on whom the seven acres of
Turncroft were settled in 1398. The lease, however, of 1457, cited
before, proves that the Christian name of William’s mother was Joyce.
Either she was his stepmother or, as is quite possible, a generation
was omitted by the heralds, and the man who married Cicely was the John
de Bradshawe, senr., of the 1398 settlement. His son, then, either by
her or by a former marriage, would be John de Bradshawe, junr., the
husband of Joyce, and the father of William. Cicely must have outlived
her husband, for there is evidence that she was in enjoyment of an
annuity, from which the estates were released on her death in 1408, for
on the 6th of May, 9 Henry IV., John de Bradshawe settled on certain
trustees “all the lands in the Ville of Bauden which lately descended
to me in right of heirship after the death of Cicely Foljamb.” It will
be observed that her maiden name is used. This was not unusual in legal
documents of a certain date.
In 1429 John de Bradshawe executed two entail deeds, by which “Two
messuages and 40 acres of land, lying in Bradshaw and Turncroft, in
the Township of Bowden, were settled on his eldest son William and
his heirs male, and in default of male issue on his other sons, John,
Robert, and Henry, in tail male.” The other deed entails the Lightbirch
Estate on his second son, John, and his brothers, in tail male. The
eventual sale of the Lightbirch Estate to Reynold Legh, of Blackbroke,
near Chapel-en-le-Frith, was the cause of the dispute about the Hollow
Meadow previously alluded to. It originated in a statement made by
Reynold Legh that the “Holle Medow,” or Hollow Meadow, was attached
to the Lightbirch Estate when sold to him. The first step to disprove
this of which there is any evidence was taken on the 2nd of August,
1483, when Nicholas Dickson, parson of Claxbe, co. Leicester, obtained
the depositions of William Bradshawe of Bradshaw, on his death-bed.
He most solemnly declared that the “Hoole Medow had never formed
part of the Lightbirch Estate, and had not been given to his brother
John by his father with the Lightbirch lands.” But not until fifteen
years later was it apparently found necessary to take the evidence
of John Bradshawe, the owner and vendor of the Lightbirch Estate.
Possibly during that time Reynold Legh had remained quiet. Then,
however, we gather from an original MS. in the writer’s possession
that John Bradshawe made a statement before witnesses to the effect
that his father, John Bradshawe, had in his own house at Lichfield
denied that the land in dispute had ever been owned or sold by him,
but that Reynold Legh had endeavoured ineffectually on three separate
occasions to obtain an admission from him that it had been included in
the Lightbirch Estate, first, by sending a servant with a document for
him to sign, then by coming himself, on which occasion he became so
pressing that he had found it necessary to leave him and to refuse to
speak again with him on the matter, and finally by requesting Thomas
Auby, who happened to be at Blackbroke on other business, to go to
Lichfield and endeavour to obtain the admission he had himself failed
in obtaining.
The next step was taken on the 28th of August following, when Henry
Bradshawe, who as his father’s son and heir had been in possession
of the estates, including the land in dispute, since the year 1483,
obtained a warrant against Reynold Legh to answer for a trespass
“upon a meadow in Bowden called Holmedowe,” which was followed by an
order made to the Sheriff, May 1st, 1499, at the instance of Reynold
Legh himself, to summon a jury to try the case. The jury, which was
composed of men well known in the county, such as Peter Pole and John
Gell, of Hopton, decided in favour of Henry Bradshawe of Bradshaw,
who was thenceforward left as undisputed owner of the field, which
is in the possession of his descendant to-day. Five years before
William Bradshawe’s death, his son Henry had been practically master
at Bradshaw, probably because his father had become conscious of the
infirmities of age, for he must have been exceedingly old when he was
troubled on his death-bed, in 1483, with the dispute about the Hollow
Meadow. A lease had been executed by Wm. Bradshaw,[43] which seems to
have been in lieu of a will, letting for twenty-one years to his son
“Hare,” “his place calde ye Bradsha, and all ye lade and meydo [land
and meadow] with ye apurtenances logyg yereto [belonging thereto],
except a wode calde ye Greyve Crofte,” but in making arrangements
for the maintenance of his widow, he stipulates that “unless it
plesse her bettur to be in any odr plase, ye seyde Hare shall fynde
and suffyshundeley kepe his Modr at things to hyr necessare to hyr
degre.” He also arranges for his son to relieve him of the worry of
paying the King’s taxes in the words, “and ye seyde Hare to pey ye
Kyge his dute for ye whole lynelode” [income]. He also gives to “ye
seyde Hare all his stuffe of Howsholde, wit all things of his yt
longus to husbodry” [that belongs to husbandry]. This curious lease
is dated at Chapel-in-ye-Frythe, 18 Edward IV. (1478). William’s wife
was Elizabeth, a member of the family of Kyrke, of Whitehough, near
Chapel-en-le-Frith[44].
[43] _Derbyshire Archæological Journal_, vol. xxiv., p. 42.
[44] In possession of the writer; printed in full in _Derbyshire
Archæological Journal_, vol. xxv., p. 58.
Henry appears to have been their only son, and probably lived with
his parents at Bradshaw Hall. He died in 1523, and his will, made two
years before, is a curiously worded one, with quaint spelling. Having
satisfied his conscience with regard to the Church, and dealt with the
two farms in his occupation, the testator proceeds:—
“I beqweyth to my wyff Elizabeyth to hyr dowary & joyntre a mesne
place off land callyd ye Tornecrofts w^t all the aportenās, and all ye
Bradmarchys w^t the aportenās unto the end of hyr lyffe & afft^r to
ye performacyon off my Wyll y^t ys to Wytt unto my too sonnes Wyllm &
Henry unto y^e tyme that Rych^d Bradsha son off John Bradsha cum to ye
age off xxi - zeres ffully.”
At the close of the will, the testator mentions John as his eldest son
at that time deceased. Richard therefore was legally the heir to the
estates, and, as a minor, was left under the guardianship of his two
uncles. Henry then expresses the desire that:
“my wyffe & my sayd sonnes kepe to scole the sayd Rych: unto he come
to ye age of xxi yeres fully yff he will, & mey be att theyr kepyng &
yf noo I wyll y^t my wyffe & my sayd sonnes Wyllam & Henre gyffe to
y^e sayyd Rych Bradsha xl^s off gud money yerely to hys ffynding unto
ye tyme y^t Rych Bradsha cum to y^e age of xxi yeres.”
His two sons, William and Henry, and his daughter, Margaret, have their
fair share of his estate, and he beseeches
“Sir Godfrey Foljamb of Walton Knt & Sir George Savage off y^e Spetyll
parson to be y^e Ouersears off thys sympull testamett & last Wyll & to
be gode maysturs to my wyffe & too my sonnes ffor Goddes sake & trew
preyars ffor them qwycke & ded.”
Henry Bradshawe’s wife Elizabeth was one of the daughters of Robert
Eyre, the second son of William Eyre, of North Lees, near Hathersage.
His deceased eldest son, John Bradshawe, had married, according to
_Lincolnshire Pedigrees_,[45] Isabella, daughter of Peter Ashton, of
Halmear Grange, in Spalding, co. Lincoln. Both he and his wife had
apparently died leaving only one child, Richard, who could have been
little more than ten years of age when, in 1523, his grandfather’s
death placed him as heir to the estates, under the guardianship of his
two uncles.
[45] _Harl. Society_, vol. iv., page 1139.
Possibly Richard was not easy of control, and did not remain at school
sufficiently long to learn wisdom, for before he could have arrived at
the age of thirty he had come to grief, and his possessions had all
passed into the hands of his uncle William, who was thus the progenitor
of the future Bradshawes of Bradshaw.
Various circumstances, however, lead to the supposition that for some
time after he had attained his majority, which must have been about the
year 1534, Richard had his home at Bradshaw Hall with his uncle Henry,
who was, without doubt, living there with Elizabeth, his wife, as
tenant up to the year 1541. Before this event, however, the foolish lad
had entered upon the extravagant and downward career which ultimately
led to his ruin and to his banishment from the old home and lands. His
frequent appeals to his uncle William for money resulted in, first a
mortgage, and finally, in December, 1542, the absolute sale of his
interests in the whole of the Bradshaw domain to his uncle William,
of Marple, co. Chester. One of the sums of money sent to him by his
uncle was the result of a most piteous appeal, which ends thus: “For
I have no money bott off you, nor I cannot boro non but of you, nor I
wyll not, and therefore I prey you to be good to me of thys.” In an
exceedingly neat and educated handwriting are the few words written in
the spare space below Richard’s letter complying with the request, and
signed “Wylliam Bradsha.” After the 20th October, 1547, the date of a
sale of an annuity by him to a man at Stockport, nothing is known of
Richard Bradshawe except that by his wife, Katherine, daughter of Elys
Staveley, of Redseats, near Castleton, he left a son, Thomas, described
in 1582 as of Swindels, co. Chester.
William Bradshawe thus became possessed of the Bradshawe estates. He is
described as of Marple, co. Cheshire, as early as February, 1534, and
as late as November, 1549. The first deed in which he is described as
of Bradshaw is dated 15th July, 1547.
It is doubtful, however, whether he ever altogether abandoned Marple,
as his second son, Henry, appears to have succeeded him there. He must
have died about the year 1561, for the first mention of his wife,
Margaret, as a widow is in a deed concerning her dower, which is dated
2nd February, 1562. She was a daughter of Christopher Clayton, of
Strindes Hall, near Marple, co. Chester.
As the three eldest of their children were born before the times of
parish registers, it has been most helpful to discover among the family
deeds a long slip of parchment endorsed: “The sevrall ages of Wm.
Bradshawe’s children.” The information, which is in Latin, and in a
legal handwriting, is as follows:—
Birth of Godfrey Bradshawe, 29th September, the second hour after
noon, A.D. 1531.
Birth of Elizabeth Bradshawe, 24th August, in the morning, A.D. 1533.
Birth of Henry Bradshawe, 6th September, the eighth hour before noon,
A.D. 1535.
Birth of Margaret Bradshawe, 10th July, the third hour after noon,
A.D. 1539.
Birth of Francis Bradshawe, 14th June, the sixth hour after noon, A.D.
1543.
Birth of Anthony Bradshawe, 3rd February, the ninth hour after noon,
A.D. 1545.
Birth of Francis, son of Godfrey Bradshawe, 17th February, the eighth
hour after noon, A.D. 1555.
Of these children Godfrey, as the eldest son, inherited the Bradshawe
estates, as will be presently seen. Henry, the second son, eventually
purchased the Marple Hall estate, where he had been bred, and most
probably born. He founded the family of Bradshawe, of Marple Hall,
co. Chester, now represented by Mr. Bradshawe Isherwood; but he
is especially noted for being the grandfather of John Bradshawe,
President of the High Court of Justice which tried and sentenced King
Charles I. to the scaffold. President Bradshawe, the second son of
Henry, the elder of the two sons of Henry Bradshawe, of Marple, was
born at Wybersley in December, 1602. Against the entry of his baptism
in the Stockport registers for the 10th of that month, some loyalist
has written the word “traitor.” He was called to the bar in 1627, and
was a member of Gray’s Inn. In 1640 he was appointed Judge of the
Sheriff’s Court in Guildhall, London, and Serjeant-at-Law in 1648.
When the House of Commons had decided on the trial of the King, they
appointed a Court of Commissioners, the presidency of which was offered
to John Bradshawe. It is only fair to say that he earnestly pleaded to
be excused, though it is possible that this hesitancy may have been
due to the undoubted danger attached to the position, which he was
apparently aware of if we are to judge by the broad brimmed hat[46]
which he wore during the trial, still preserved at Oxford, for it is
lined with plated steel as a protection against personal violence.
[46] _Annals of Hyde_, by Thos. Middleton, p. 237.
The High Court began their work on the 20th January. The first few
days were entirely occupied by a lengthy dispute between the King and
John Bradshawe concerning the authority of the Court, which, as King,
Charles naturally refused to acknowledge. On the 29th of January,
however, the death warrant was signed, to which the signature of John
Bradshawe stands first as president. He did not live to witness the
Restoration, for he died 31st October, 1659, and was buried with great
pomp in Westminster Abbey. His body was, however, exhumed with those of
Cromwell and Ireton, and all three were hung and buried at Tyburn.
[Illustration: John Bradshawe, Serjeant-at-Law.
President at the Trial of King Charles I., 1649.]
John Bradshawe seems to have kept up friendly relations with his
Derbyshire kinsmen. His signature appears in more than one of the deeds
connected with family arrangements, and he acted as one of the
overseers to the will of George Bradshawe, of Eyam, the High Sheriff’s
brother, made 17th June, 1646.
Anthony Bradshawe the youngest son of William Bradshawe, of Bradshaw,
is perhaps better known than his brothers by reason of his quaint
monument in Duffield church, a photograph of which illustrates this
article. He was born on February 3rd, 1545; was educated at Oxford,
where he took his B.A. degree 3rd April, 1566;[47] and entered as a
student of the Inner Temple 25th May, 1573. He made his home, however,
in Duffield, where he lived in a house called Farley’s Hall. He owned
the Duffield mill, and lands in Duffield and Holbrook, and other
places in the neighbourhood. He was the author of various interesting
articles, which prove that not only was he an adept in his vocation
as a barrister, but also was an industrious and intelligent student
of the history of his own county. He wrote a most remarkable poem of
fifty-four stanzas, giving an interesting account of Duffield and
Duffield Frith. It is published at length in the _Reliquary_.[48] All
his MSS. were specially left to his son Jacynth, but with the exception
of that on his own family, of which a literal transcript is given, they
have all mysteriously disappeared. Some of them found their way, many
years ago, into the possession of Mr. Barber, of Smalley. Extracts from
these are quoted by Rev. C. Kerry, late rector of Upper Stondon, in the
article on the “History of Peak Forest” which he contributed to the
_Journal of the Derbyshire Archæological Society_ in 1893.[49]
[47] Forster’s _Alumni Oxonienses_.
[48] Vol. xxiii., p. 69.
[49] Vol. xv., p. 67.
One of these MSS., a great portion of which has been there transcribed,
supplies most curious and interesting information concerning the
customs and duties of the officers of the forest of the High Peak.
Other MSS. had been published ten years before by Mr. Kerry for the
_Reliquary_.[50] One of these contains “the Account of a Conference”
held between himself and a distinguished visitor, “W. N., a Sowthern
gent att the howse of the said A. B., called ffarley’s House, in
Duffield, in the County of Derby,” on 1st May, 1603.
[50] Vol. xxiii., p. 137.
It begins thus:—
“W. N of C in the Countie of Suffolk gent an auntient Scholar and
Companion of the said A B above 40 yeres past in the vniversitie of
Oxford (there p’ceding graduats togeather) & afterwords dyvers yeres
fealow student by practique w^{th} the said A B in the Inn^r Temple
London ... tooke paynes to repose himself for a few daies w^{th} the
said A B att his house aforesaid whenne he went to Buxton Well & so
to Bradshaugh Hall in Bradshaugh Edge a little there begyled where
the said A B was born & his auncestors whither the said A B verie
willinglie accompanyed him & the better occasioned to visit his
brother & friends there ...
“W. N. And what is that w^{ch} you call Bradshaugh Edge wherein your
brother now dwelleth
“A. B. Sr I take that to be a c^rten part of the p’ishe of Chapell de
le ffryth w^{ch} the King of England in time past gave vnto one of
my Auncestors for s^rvice done as p’tly appereth in some evidences
of my brothers w^{ch} are without date afore the conquest of England
and I fynd that that p’ish conteyneth three Edges vidlet Bradshaugh
Edge Bowdon Edge and Cambis Edge and that so the said Edge called the
Bradshaugh Edge conteyneth Ashford p’te of the said p’ishe and was all
graunted to my auncestors though my former auncestors were of like
vnthriftee and have in tymes past sold away most of the same, and so
my brother hath but a small remaynd^r therein And touchinge the Armes
of the said house of Bradshaughe I will not take upon me to blaze the
same leaving itt to the Heralds for avoyding of offence but the crest
is the Buck in his naturell couller vnder the hawthorne tree browsing
or rompant.”
With regard to the office he held, and his work as a barrister-at-law,
his remarks—greatly abbreviated and modernised in spelling—are as
follows:—
“Being in 38 Elizabeth Regina by the Hon^{ble} Gilbert Earl of
Shrewsbury her Majestys High Steward of the Honor of Tutbury charged
trusted & deputed to be understeward there and also having spent above
30 years time partly in the Inner Temple and partly in the C^t of the
Com:n Pleas at Westminster where I also practised above 30 years as
Attorney.... For the better instructing of my sons and clerks which
I employed under me in that office I ... collected certain little
books ... concerning my Service doing in the said courts as namely
one little book of such points & learning of the Forest lawes as I
supposed to be convenient,” etc.
Among other benefactions to the place in which he had chosen to reside,
he founded an almshouse. He alludes to it in these words:—
“Onlie this I ympose & devyse & hope ytt will not offend that where I
have erected a litel Almeshouse for harbouring of a ffew poore ffolks
in y^e towne of Duffeld aforesaid (as the pore widow offered her myte)
& have established for the same poore but thirtie shillings yerely
to buy them some symple cloth for coates: I say I have ordered the
auntient of the same poore for the tyme being shall keep the kay of
the box wherein the same book of Regist^r shall lye in my said house”
...
In the indenture, which he says he intends to leave within his will, he
alludes to it thus:—
“I have often ment & prposed & in my litle monument standing in the
Church of Duffield abovesaid do shew that I wuld p’vyde to allow an
hospithall or litle almeshouse in the towne of Duffeld w^{th} certen
allowance for harbouring of ffour poore p’sons widows or others to
contynue in man^r & forme in my last will & testem^t declared or to
be sett downe or referred and haue now devysed by my last will and
testament, God willing, my Tenemt in Derby in Full Streete there now
or late occupied by one Thomas Wright And my cotage and garden to
y^{tt} adjoyning and belonging in Duffeld abovesaid.... Therefore
now ... my desyre & intent is that that my heires & all myne & there
heres posteritie to whom the said Tenem^t & rents & cotage shall
descend or come by vertue of my said will shall for eu^r & from tyme
to tyme hereafter elect allow and admytt ffour poore p’sons of Duffeld
viz^t two aged or ympotent men and two like women widows or others of
honest behavior to be harboured lodged & dwell in my said hospitall
or almsehouse & to use the said garden therew^{th} for and during the
lyves & lyfe of any such poore p^rsons ev^ry one of them paying only a
godspeny a^{tt} there seu^ral admissions to my said heires,” etc.
The document ends with the rules to be observed by the occupants of
the almshouse regarding their language and their attendance at church,
where they were to sit “att the backe of my pewe,” which pew, as well
as his monument, they were to dust and keep clean. The “monument”
referred to here is in the church, and in good preservation. The
“almshouses,” which stood in the Town Street between “Duffield Hall
and the road, were pulled down in 1804,” says Dr. Cox in his work on
_Derbyshire Churches_, and he remarks: “They were most improperly
bought of the parish in 1804 by Mrs. Bonnell, of the Hall, for £120,
and pulled down, in order to enlarge the grounds.” Quoting a letter
written to Mr. Lysons in 1816 he adds: “The annexed lines are inscribed
on a stone now making part of the fence in Bonell’s pleasure grounds at
Duffield, but formerly placed in front of Bradshaw’s almshouses, which
I have heard stood near the same spot, but is now entirely erased.”
“B ehold Lord of Life this myte I restore
R endering thanks unto thee for all that we have
A nd this little Harbour I leave for the poore
D evised to lodge four who else may alms crave
S hure trust I repose & myne I exhort
H enceforth this Hospital as it needs to renew
A llowing such things as my will doth purport
W e meane & pray God for ay to continew
G od grant that others more able than I
H ereafter may better pore people supply.”
[Illustration: Duffield Church: Monument of Anthony Bradshawe.]
Anthony Bradshaw’s monument to himself, his two wives, and twenty
children, was erected in 1600; he did not die until 1614, having had
in the meantime three additional children. It stands against the
east wall of the north transept of Duffield church, and is in a fair
state of preservation. At the top of the monument is the Bradshaw
coat—_arg._, two bendlets between as many martlets, _sab._, surmounted
by the crest of a hart standing under a vine bough. Across the centre
of the monument, between the inscription proper and the acrostic, are
the small incised effigies (half length) of himself, his wives, and
children distinguished by their respective initials. The following are
the inscriptions:—
“Parvū monumentū An^{ij} Bradshawgh interioris templi L. generos.
(quarti filü W^i Br. de Bradshawgh in hoc comitatu Derb. gent.) nup.
coron, ac subvic. com. ejusd. Ac etiam uni. atturn. cur. de banco
apud Westmr necuon dep. slli totius feodi de Duffield Hic qui dnas
hūit uxores & xx^{ti} liberos subscript. quibus et pro quibus (inter
multa) ut sequitur oravit et [~p]cepit, Ac postea p’ult. volun. ac.
testm. sua in scriptis remanem unam [~p]vam domum cum gardino sumtu
suo proprio in Duffeld hic conditam pro hosp. quatuor pauperum istius
ville (per heredes suos de tempore in tempus eligend. et locand.)
inter alia volvit et legavit ac devisavit cum allocaoñ in dcō testō
mancōnatis impp̄m continuand. ac per heredes suos manutend. modo et
forma in eodem testō limitat, et content. et sic obüt hicque sepelit’
... die ... A^o Jesu X̄r Salutis suæ....
“Griseld Blackwall (daughter & Heire of Richard Blackwall of Blackwall
in this county of Derby Gent. & of Anne sister of Thomas Sutton of
Over Haddon Esq.) was his first Wief by whom he had 4 sonnes W^m Fra
Exupie. & John. W^{ch} Richard was one of the cozeyns & heires of Mr.
Boyfield of Barford in the countie of Northton Esq.
“Elizabeth the daughter of Richard Hawghton was his second wyfe by
whom he had xvj children, viz. Jacincth, Antonie, Michaell, Elizabeth,
Felix, Quyntin, Petronilla, Athanasia, Isadora, Mildrede, Brandona,
Erasmus, Josephe, Millicent, Cassandra, Vicesim.
“Quorum cuique A. Br. dixit viz.
“Deum tunc Regem honora ac parentes cognatos cole magistratos metue
maiore cede minori parce prox̄mum dilige sicut teipu et cum boni
ambula.
“Dum fueris fœlix, multos numerabis amisos, tempora si fuerint nubila
solus eris. Ergo sic utere tuo ut alieno ne indigens, ac semper
intende [~p]. Dē. [~p]cede et regna.”
Nam.
A s God dyd give this man,
N o small charge as you see,
T o trayne them he began,
H ere ech in there degree,
O ft wishing them such grace,
N o future course to take,
I njurious to there race,
E Is end of lief to make.
B less them oh Lord with peace,
R esist there adverse fates,
A lways them well increase,
D efendyng them from hates,
S uch lyvelode to them gyve,
H ere whylest on earth they bee,
A s they may love & lyve,
W ee praye O God q^{th} He.
G.
H.
A. {Different tyme I wishe thee But put thy hous in order} B.
{Q^{th} he which here doth lye For surely thou shalt dye}
#/
It is of some interest to print for the first time a quaint Bradshaw
pedigree, which is an exact copy of one in my own possession, in the
handwriting of Anthony Bradshaw; it was too much worn to permit of
reproduction in facsimile.
Several of his twenty-three children settled in the neighbourhood,
not only at Duffield, but at Makeney, Idridgehay, and Belper, and the
Duffield registers[51] record their existence during the whole of the
seventeenth century.
[51] _Reliquary_, vol. xxiii., p. 134.
Vicesimus, the last of the children recorded on the monument, was
baptized 10th March, 1600, and married Ellen, daughter and heiress
of Richard Fletcher, of Makeney. Their descendants intermarried with
various local families, and one of them married Thos. Ward, curate of
Duffield, early in 1800. Peregrine, born in 1602, after the monument
had been erected, was perhaps one of the best known to the world at
large of this big family. He settled in London, and later on was of
Wymondham, and acted as page to Anne of Denmark, wife of James I., and
afterwards as “Esquire to the body of King Charles I.”[52]
[52] _Lincolnshire Pedigrees_, _Harl. Society_, p. 109.
Anthony Bradshawe died 1614. His will was proved on the 3rd May in
that year. He leaves legacies to “Francis Bradshawghe, of Bradshawghe,
Peter and Henry Bradshawghe,” and a ring is left to John Curzon, of
Kedleston, who was father of the first baronet, and ancestor to the
present Lord Scarsdale. Jacynth is the fortunate inheritor of his
signet ring, furniture, books, and MSS.
[Illustration:
Com. Derby { Will̄m Bradshawghe of Bradshawghe in the County aforesaid
ffebr. 1610. { gent (who and his Ancestors have beene lawfull and right
{ Inheritors and owners thereof by antient desent ever
{ synce afore the Conquest whiche auntient evidences thereof
{ doe shew) maryd Margret the daughter of M^r Cleyton of
{ Stryndes hall in Cheshire, by whome hee had yssue
{ liueinge—
1 2 3 4 5 6
---------+---------+---------+----------+-----------+-----------
Godfrey | Henerie | Francis | Anthony | Elizabeth | Margret
G1 | H2 | F3 | A4 | E5 | maried to
| | | | | Littlewood
---------+----+----+---------+ +-----------+
francis | Henerey |
f1 | H3 |
+--------------+----------------------------------
| Anthony
| A3
--------------+-------------------------------------------------
| The same ffrancis the sonne had |
| yssue by the said Anne his |
| wife diu^rs sonnes and daughters |
| here under menconed viz |
G1. Godfrey his eldest sonne maryed to Em daughter to Anthony
Shalcrosse of Shalcrosse in the said County Esq^r by whome hee had
yssue ffrancis Leuon^rd Godfrey Peeter & Henerie and divers daughters
whose names and matches are here und^r mencioned
H2. Henerie maried to Dorotha daughter of Xpofer Baghau of the townhed
in y^e Chapell of ffryth gent by whome hee had ishew one sonne Henerie
and oy^r daughters by dyu^r venters Elizabeth maryed to
F3. Francis maried to Mary the sister of Juxe Esq^r servante to the
late Queene Elizabeth by whome he had issue ffrancis and other Children
now dwelling att Wakesay by Charleton in the County of Willtesh^r
purchased by the said ffrancis the father
A4. Anthony who had two wyves the first Grisild daughter and heire of
Richard Blackwall of Blackwall of Derbysh^r gent^l Inheritor of the
third pt of Barford in (now sold to M^r Lane there) w^{ch} Richard
had to wife Anne the sister of Tho. Sutton of Ou^rhaddon in the said
County of Derby Esq^r (whose widow John Bently aft^r maried) by whiche
Grisild the said Anthony had 4 sonnes viz Willm ffrancis John (w^{ch}
three dyed all younge w^{th}out issue). And Exuperie who maried Ann
one of the daughters of Lysle of Maxhill in the County of Warr Esq^r
by the daughter of Repington of Annyngton in the same Countie Esq^r
(whose former husband was one M^r Willughby) whiche Exupie hath not
yette any yssue The same Anthony second wife ys Elizabeth the daughter
of Richard Haughton of Holbroke in the said County of Derby (decended
from Haughton of Haughton tower in the County ofcLanc. Esq^r). By which
Elizabeth the same Anthony had Ninteene Children viz Nyne Sonnes viz
Jacquth, Erasimus, Joseph, Vicesimus & Peregrine yet liveing, Antony,
Quintin, Micaell & Candidus deceased, tenn daughters viz Elizabeth,
ffelix, Petronilla (modo nuta Marco Jackson in Com. Leic. gent) also
Atanasca, Mildred, Brandona, Milicent, Casandria, Penultima yet
liueing, and Isodora deceased
E5. Elizabeth mared to John Bagshaw of Bradshawgh Esq^r gent, who had
ysue one sonne Nicolas & daughters Marie, maried to M^r Rawlison of
gate by
f1. The said francis the eldest sonne of the same Godfrey the father
Maried Anne one of the four daughters and co-heiress of Humph of Eyam
in the said County Esq^r (by whome he had Eyam hall and those Lands in
that partition). And Roland Eyre of Hassoppe in the same County Esq^r
maried another of the same daughters. And Mr. Savage of Castleton
in the same County maried the third of the same daughters and Mr.
M----wood of Stadon in the same County maried the fourth of the same
daughters and coheirs of the same M^r Stafford
H3 Henerey the sonne hee maried one of the daughters and heires of
Wynyngton gent. (with whome hee had certaine Lands in Alfreton) in the
pish of Stokport in Cheshire by whome hee had yssue Ralfe This Henery
purchased dyu^rs Land in Marple and ellswhere
A3. Besides some other Lands to him decended This Anthony purchased
ffayrles and ffayrles hall and certaine other lands in Dufeild and
in Derbysh^r from the said Dorothee, Anne Derby and erected a little
Almshouse in the towne of Dufeild, and his little Monument his other
Sister and being married to owne in Dufeild Chirch Thornell there
ffrancis Bradshawgh being nowe 1610 of the In^r Temple London, and
Counsello^r of the Law Esq now maried to Barbary one of the daughters
of S^r John Davenport of Davenport in the County of Chester Esq^r (unto
which ffrancis, the mano^r of Abney, by Eham, decended or was devised,
from and by Godfrey Bradshawgh his unckle who [dyed w^{th}out yssue]
did purchase the same Mano^r and dyed w^{th}ou issue And the said
[Leonard] ffrancis the father had other sonnes viz Humphrey, Roland,
George, and Peeter (and diue^{rs} daughters hereunder also mentioned)
by the said Anne And the said Godfrey the eldest, haueing as aforesaid,
other young^r sonnes, Len^rd, Godfrey, Peeter, and Henery as first
abovesaid the same Henery the youngest brother dyed also younge and
w^{th}out yssue And the said Leon^rd the second sonne of the said
Godfrey the eldest hath yssue Leon^rd, Peeter and Mary yet livenge
And the said Peeter the third sonne of the said Godfrey the eldest
maried with one of the daughters of M^r Johnson of the redd Crosse in
Wattlinge streete Citizen and Merchant Tayler of London, by whome he
hath nowe two sonnes viz Edward and yett liveing, god blesse them The
said Godfrey the ffather had also diu^rs daughters viz Amye who dyed
unmaried Marie who maried one Smith of Lincolnsh^r, by whome hee had a
sonne who now is a vintner & keepeth the three tonnes att Yeald hall
gate in London Hellen maried to one Martin Ashe of Ashgate in Brampton
nere Chesterfeild by whome hee hath diuers children
The same ffrancis the ffather also had diue^{rs} daughters, viz
Endorsed. _Anthony Bradshawes Pedigree in his handwriting._)
]
Godfrey, the eldest son of William Bradshawe, of Bradshaw, was born
29th September, 1531, and began his experiences of the troubles of life
very early. At what date he married Margaret, daughter of Roger Howe,
of Ashop, is not recorded; but as early as 1550, when only 19, he
and his wife are quarrelling like the children they undoubtedly were,
and after ineffectual attempts “to cause them to continue lovingly
together as man and wife,” their respective parents took the necessary
legal proceedings to separate them so that each might be enabled to
marry again. The old MSS. connected with this part of Godfrey’s life
are very curious reading, as they arrange for the partition of the
household goods, and even to the return to Margaret’s parents of the
clothes provided for a possible nursery. After the divorce, Godfrey
did not go far afield for a second wife. He married Emma, the daughter
of Anthony Shawcross, of Shawcross, quite a near neighbour. In 1568
serious troubles arose[53] in consequence of his having enclosed a
portion of his land at Chinley, not two miles distant from Bradshaw.
His action was highly resented by the inhabitants, who pulled his
fences down, burnt a house, and
[53] _Derbyshire Archæological Journal_, vol. xxi., p. 61.
“assembling themselfs together in great companies at the Towne of
Hayfield w^{th} unlawfull weapons that is to saye w^{th} bowes pytche
fforks clobbes staves swords & daggers drawen Ryotously dyd then &
there assaulte & p’sue the sayd Godfrey & Edward Bradshawe.”
On another occasion certain people
“on foote & Raulphe Mellour upon his horse backe ryotouslye followed
the sayd Edward Bradshawe & Godfrey Bradshawe the space of one quarter
of a myle from the sayd towne of Heyfield & w^{th} drawen weapons
had ryotouslye like to have slayne & murthered the sayd Godfrey &
Edward.... At another tyme by nyght ... the sayd p^rcell of grounde
beinge newlye enclosed agayn by the sayd Godfrye by ther consents
beinge quicksetts w^{th} xliii hundreth quicksetts willowes & willowe
stacks they dyd pull downe the same agayne,” etc., etc.
The disturbances were eventually quelled, and the rioters tried in the
Court of the Star Chamber.
On the 10th April, 1570, Godfrey executed a deed of entail of Bradshawe
on himself for life, with remainder to Francis, his eldest son, and
then to Leonard, Godfrey, Peter, and Henry, his other four sons, in
tail male, in default to his three brothers, Henry, of Marple, Francis,
and Anthony. In a list of the principal landowners in the High Peak for
1570 appear the names of Godfrey Bradshawe, of Bradshaw, and of his
wife’s brother, Leonard Shallcrosse, of Shalcross.[54]
[54] _Reliquary_, vol. viii., p. 189.
Godfrey died early in the year 1607, and was succeeded by his eldest
son, Francis, who was married when quite a child to Anne, one of the
four daughters and co-heiresses of Humphry Stafford, of Eyam. Indeed,
he was not much more than nine years old according to the register of
his birth, for the 4th May, 1565, appears to have been the day on which
he was married. The Staffords had been settled at Eyam certainly as far
back as the reign of King John, at which time their lands were held
“by hereditary right for the free service of finding one lamp burning
before the altar of St. Helen in the church at Eyam throughout the year
during divine service.”[55]
[55] _Derbyshire Archæological Journal_, vol. xxiii., p. 83.
The possessions to be divided among the four daughters appear to have
been very considerable. In 1568 a deed was executed to enable Francis
Bradshawe and Anne, his wife, peaceably to enjoy a fourth part of the
lands lately the inheritance of Humphry Stafford. This consisted of
much of the ancient domain of the Staffords actually in Eyam, with the
Old Hall, and included lands in the vicinity at Monyash, Chelmorton,
and other places, as well as the whole of the townships of Bretton and
Foolow. No evidence exists as to the destiny of the two children for
some years after their marriage. Ten years later, however, they were
apparently living in the Old Hall at Eyam, and on the 8th of January,
1576, a settlement of the hall and lands at Eyam was executed on the
young couple, and upon their eldest son. The deed must have been
drawn up either before or immediately after his birth, for a space has
been left blank throughout the original deed for the Christian name of
“their son and heir.” The Manor of Abney, which marched with his wife’s
estates, was bought in October, 1593. It adjoins Bretton and Foolow,
which are townships in the ecclesiastical parish of Eyam.
There is no evidence that Francis Bradshawe ever lived in Bradshaw
Hall, which devolved on him on the death of his father, Godfrey, in
1607. Only three years elapsed between this event and his eldest son’s
marriage, and in all probability the Hall had no permanent tenant until
after it had been rebuilt. At any rate there is little doubt that
Francis Bradshawe, the elder, as he is generally styled, lived on at
Eyam Hall, where his chief interests lay, until his death, of which
date there is no record. After the year 1615,[56] when he qualified
as a magistrate for the county, nothing is known about him. His wife
died before the 18th December, 1606, the date of a settlement of “money
which rightly belonged to the said Francis in right of Anne, his late
wife.” Francis, the eldest son of their very large family, succeeded
him. The first date of which there is any evidence of his being in
possession of the estates is 10th June, 1619, when he executed a deed
entailing them on his heirs male. This same year, too, evidently marked
the completion of the rebuilding of the Hall, for a stone is still in
existence inscribed F.B., B.B., 1619, which most probably formed the
centre-piece over the doorway in the entrance porch, now demolished.
His wife was Barbara, daughter of Sir John Davenport, of Davenport,
co. Chester. In his marriage settlements, bearing the date of 1610,
he is described as barrister-at-law of the Inner Temple. Possibly he
made London and Eyam Hall his headquarters till the completion of the
hall, which work may well have begun soon after his grandfather’s death
in 1607, when it was probably assigned to him as a future residence.
It is fairly certain that the present hall was the first stone-built
residence of the Bradshawes, for the following reason. After the
civil wars of Stephen’s reign, it was found necessary to forbid such
substantial residences to be built without permission from the King.
Timber, therefore, was the principal material used for ordinary
buildings, and only in the time of the Tudor Sovereigns did the long
established custom of ignoring the stone of the district begin to die
out. The half-timbered houses still so prevalent in Cheshire are scarce
in our own county, but 300 years ago they were probably common enough,
and as a contrast to the stone walls must have added considerably
to the beauty of the Peak country. Such a house, therefore, we may
well imagine the original Bradshaw Hall to have been, standing in a
conspicuous place on the slope of Eccles Pike.
[56] _Three Centuries of Derbyshire Annals_, by Dr. Cox, vol. i., p. 38.
In the time of Henry VIII., however, the ancient custom of allowing the
smoke to find its own way out through a hole in the tiling, which was
called the “louvre,” began to be discontinued, and stone-built chimneys
were then added outside the timber house for the sake of safety. Mr.
Gunson, in his article on Bradshaw Hall,[57] says:—
[57] _Derbyshire Archæological Journal_, vol. xxv., p. 5. I am indebted
to Mr. Gunson for much of the description of the actual building.
This chimney contained a broad archway opening into the room in
which the log fire was kindled. This seems to have been the case at
Bradshaw, for on the line of what was formerly the outside wall of
the hall is still standing a great stone chimney stack. That it was
the chimney to the ancient Hall, and is the oldest portion of the
present building, there can be but little doubt, for it plays no part
in the later design. Moreover, a portion of the top where the plaster
‘parging’ of its flue can still be seen has been taken down to allow
the main timbers of the present roof to pass over its head; it has
been filled in and its archway beneath built up. When the architect
designed the later building he found that this old stack fell into
line with his plan and served as a support for the great staircase
which he built around it.”
No doubt it was the presence of this huge and apparently useless block
of masonry, running the whole height of the house, which gave rise to
the generally accepted notion that Bradshaw Hall possessed a secret
chamber or “priest hole.” This legend is adopted by Mr. Allan Fea, who
remarks in his interesting book on _Secret Chambers and Hiding Places_:
“Bradshaw Hall has or had a concealed chamber high up in the wall of a
room on the ground floor, which was capable of holding three persons.”
Of course, tradition says “the wicked judge was hidden here.” The
actual place here described is a modern cupboard, which has not been in
existence a century as yet!
One other remnant of the old house remains in the present structure. To
use Mr. Gunson’s words:
“The staircase is supported on bearing timbers made of principals from
the old high-pitched roof, in which the mortices and oak pins still
disclose their previous use and design; these, after serving their
original purpose for generations, were yet sound enough to be used to
sustain the heavy staircase—a remarkable testimony to the quality of
the oak selected for such purposes some six centuries ago, and still
apparently as good as ever.”
The interior of the house some sixty or seventy years ago was somewhat
altered to meet the requirements of two families of farm tenants; but
as originally built, it contained the dining-hall—which was also the
usual living room of the family—out of this opened the withdrawing
room. These two rooms occupied the whole of one wing, and were
accessible from the main entrance through a vestibule or small hall,
lighted by a quaint little window on the right, and entirely shut off
from the big staircase. The dining-hall was a spacious room, lighted by
a pair of four-light windows, now converted into modern sash lights.
“Above, to support the floor of the upper storey are massive oak
beams about 16 ins. deep by 14 ins. wide. On the left is a very fine
segmental arch over the entrance to the staircase; it has a span of
4 ft., and its depth from front to back is 4 ft. 1 in., being deeply
splayed on the outer side. Altogether the design is striking, and if
the old window lighting the staircase behind it were but opened out,
the effect would be distinctly quaint and picturesque.”
Another archway leads to the kitchen, and at the top of the hall was
the original great fireplace and a door, which led into the withdrawing
room. The same kind of beams cross the ceiling of this room, though
in a different direction to those of the hall, and it is lighted by
similar windows. All the rooms at Bradshaw are exceptionally lofty, and
the windows, which have not been tampered with,
“are beautifully proportioned examples of the plain mullioned and
transomed type. An especial feature of Bradshaw is that all the door
jambs have been splayed off. The direction always follows the line of
general traffic, and the idea evidently was to cut off the corners,
and especially in the case of the kitchens, no doubt to facilitate the
carriage of the heavily laden trenchers to the dining hall.”
The kitchen and offices formed the other wing.
“The massive staircase is about 4 ft. in width, and consists of solid
oak steps; it is supported by the ancient chimney stack, and opens
into a small landing on the first floor, from which access is given to
various bedrooms, and through them to others. This landing, which was
originally lighted by the usual four-light window, now partially built
up, has a remarkable ceiling, cornice, and frieze, in plaster work.
Around the latter in raised letters is the following verse:—
LOVE GOD BVT NOT GOLD. A MAN
WITHOVT MERCY OF MERCY SHALL
MISS BVT HE SHALL HAVE MERCY
THAT MERCYFVL IS.”
An inventory[58] of the contents of the hall, taken after the death
of Francis Bradshawe gives us not only an idea of the contents of the
mansion house of a gentleman of that period, but it also furnishes
us with the names of the various rooms. Among them is mentioned “The
Gallerie, the Gallerie Chamber, and the Clocke Chamber.” The contents
of his own bedroom are as follows:
[58] _Derbyshire Archæological Journal_, vol. xxv., p. 66.
“One bedstedd w^{th} curtaines and Vallancies and all other Furniture,
a Truckle Bedd and Fether bedd thereon Two tables one Standinge
Cupboard Three Chaires two plaine Chaires Nyne Joynt Stooles two
little ones a Close Stoole six Tables and Cupboard Cloathes. Two
Skreenes, a Lookeing Glasse Three Brushes a p^r of Snuffers Firepan
and Tongs.”
Over the kitchen a fine example of an oak panelled room still remains
in good condition. The contents of the cellars are described in the
inventory as “one greate tuninge vessel and 3 lesser vessells and
twentie barrells.” These big cellars have apparently been filled in and
flagged over, for in spite of the legend that they still exist, it has
been found impossible to discover their position. Of the outbuildings,
the big cow house still remains, of the same date as the hall, with
windows of a similar design.
The principal entrance to the hall, with its porch, now removed,
originally faced Eccles Pike, over which ran an ancient highway, and
connected with this was an old bridle road leading to the stone-built
arch which was the main gateway. This is still in admirable condition,
and beyond the fact that there are indications that originally the
archway was enclosed with double gates, which are not now in existence,
it is much as it left the builders’ hands. Over it, on the side facing
the hill, is a shield bearing a coat of arms, as follows: “Argent two
bendlets between two martlets sable” for Bradshawe. Impaling “or a
chevron gules between three martlets sable” for Stafford. Above the
shield is the Bradshawe crest, “A stag at gaze proper under a Vine Tree
fruited proper.”
This coat bears the impress of the work of an amateur, as Francis
Bradshawe could only have impaled the Davenport arms as borne by his
wife’s family, while he had the right to bear the Stafford arms
quarterly with his own, because his mother was an heiress. Had his
father built the archway, as some writers have suggested, the Stafford
coat would have been borne over the Bradshawe shield on a “Scutcheon of
pretence.”
On the reverse side of the archway is the inscription, “Francis
Bradshawe, 1620,” below which is a shield bearing the curious device,
apparently heraldic, of a thorn between six nails. It has puzzled
several students of heraldry. The suggestion was made a few years ago,
which is almost certainly the correct one, that it is no heraldic
achievement, but “a rebus” on the name Bradshawe:
“viz six nailes for the plural ‘Brads’ a species of nail, and the
thorn for the old English Haw hence Brads-haw, that the scroll of
foliage surrounding the shield may be a spray of barberry, the
whole being in honour of Barbara Bradshawe, whose name would thus
appropriately follow that of her husband as her initials did upon the
stone of the previous year.”
[Illustration: Bradshawe Hall: Detail of Gateway.]
A feature of the walling round Bradshaw is its heavy double coping. The
building of the archway and stone fence would not have been built till
after “the bulky traffic necessary during the building operations no
longer prohibited a restricted approach.” This would account for the
date of the gateway being a year later than that of the hall. Here,
then, Francis Bradshawe and his wife took up their abode, in the old
home rebuilt and modernized according to the fashion of the times. In
the year 1630–1 he served the office of High Sheriff for the county,
succeeding Sir John Stanhope, of Elvaston. The accounts connected with
his shrievalty were kept with scrupulous care. They were published in
the _Archæological Journal_ for 1904, and are very quaint reading. The
board and lodging of the two judges on circuit, for all the officials
connected with the Court of Assize, and for the prisoners awaiting
their trial, as well as the expense entailed by the execution and
burial of those condemned to be hanged, are all included. Contrary
to the custom of the present day, the grand jury were fed at the High
Sheriff’s expense, and a band was provided to entertain them. Among
his personal expenses we read that £11 6s. was paid for lace, £1 3s.
10d. for twenty-six long buttons, 19s. for two dozen “silke and gould
buttons and a neeke button,” £30 for twenty-six hatbands, 10s. for
his boots, £2 3s. 4d. for his saddle, 11s. 8d. for the fringe, and £1
3s. 10d. for the “silver boole,” which may have been his buckle, but
might possibly have been a bowl to be used as a loving cup. At Kirk
Ireton he is charged for the hire of a horse, as well as for the keep
of the one he left behind, which item suggests the probability that in
riding his own horse, as would have been most likely, all the way from
Bradshaw to Derby, he had been obliged to change horses on the road,
and Kirk Ireton, being on his line of route in travelling by the old
but now disused road from Bakewell, he had elected to make the exchange
there. During this year he had the misfortune to lose his wife. The
entry of her death in the parish registers of Chapel-en-le-Frith for
the year 1631 is as follows: “Barbara, the wife of Francis Bradshawe,
of Bradshaw, High Sheriff for this Countie this yeare, was buried
in the chancell the xviiijth day.” On the 31st of July, 1632, he
married as his second wife Lettice Clarke, widow, described in the
Chapel-en-le-Frith register as “step-daughter to Sir Harvey Bagott,
Knt.” She was the eldest daughter of Sir Thomas Dilke, of Maxstoke
Castle, co. Warwick. After his death she married, as her third husband,
Sir John Pate, Bart. Francis Bradshawe died 25th March, 1635, and was
buried with his wife on the 27th. His will, made about a month after
his second marriage, left two-thirds of his residue to his brother
George, his successor in the family estates, and one-third to his
widow. She appears to have made Bradshaw her residence till about the
year 1637, at which date Bradshaw Hall was apparently occupied by a
Mr. Thomas Wigstone; at any rate, he is described as of Bradshaw in the
register of the baptism of his daughter Lettice in the October of that
year. He may have been a friend or relation, but Nicholas Lomas, who,
according to the register, died at Bradshaw in 1640, would certainly
have been a tenant. Francis Bradshawe was the last member of the family
to reside at Bradshaw; notwithstanding the large amount of money that
had been expended on the hall only fifteen years before.
George Bradshawe, his brother and successor, lived throughout his
married life at Eyam; the old Hall, the home of the Staffords, his
mother’s ancestors, having been entirely rebuilt for him. He was buried
in Eyam Church, 25th June, 1646. His widow lived on at Eyam until she
and her only unmarried daughter were driven away by the plague, which
was raging in that village during the years 1665 and 1666. Francis,
the eldest son, who inherited all the Bradshaw estates, had married
in 1652 Elizabeth Vesey, a Yorkshire heiress, and he elected to live
in his wife’s ancestral home at Brampton, co. York, and there did
all the future Bradshawes, of Bradshaw, live, forsaking the old home
and county. Francis Bradshawe died at Brampton, 21st December, 1659,
leaving two sons. Francis, the elder, who succeeded to the estates
but died unmarried in 1677, left all his estates to his brother, John
Bradshawe. Living as his father had done in the old hall at Brampton,
John Bradshawe allowed strangers to continue to rent Bradshaw Hall.
In 1660, during the minority of his brother, the hall had been let to
Edward Ash and Thomas Wright, and he himself let it to John Lowe in
1693. In 1717 John Bradshawe was High Sheriff for the County of Derby,
but he died where he had lived, at Brampton, co. York, in November,
1726, leaving by his wife Dorothy, daughter of Anthony Eyre, of
Rampton, co. Notts, a son, George, and a daughter, Elizabeth. George
Bradshawe succeeded to the Bradshawe estates, but dying childless in
1735, the estates devolved on his sister’s son as heir-at-law and from
him the present representative of the family is descended.
It is a curious coincidence that the last official act of George, the
last Bradshawe, of Bradshaw, of which there is any evidence, was,
only three months before his death, to execute a lease, dated 13th
September, 1735, for eleven years to Robert Lowe and John Jackson of
the old hall of his ancestors, in which document it is described as
“all that capital messuage with the appurtenances lying and being in
the parish of Chapel-en-le-Frith, commonly called or known by the name
of Bradshaw Hall.”
OFFERTON HALL.
By S. O. Addy, M.A.
The hamlet of Offerton is near Hathersage, and now consists of three
houses, called Offerton Hall, Offerton House, and Offerton Cottage. It
stands high, but the moors on the south rise higher still, and partly
hide the rays of the midday sun from these buildings. So, as you walk
up the hill on a summer’s morning, the gateway of the hall, already
darkened by time, is further darkened by shadows. But there is plenty
of light when you get into the courtyard.
You ascend a little-used, narrow lane, with walls on either side, and
leaving Offerton House, itself a quaint old building, on your right,
you presently enter the courtyard of Offerton Hall through a tall
gateway, which stands between farm buildings on one side and a barn on
the other. Within the archway on either side are mullioned windows, and
just beyond the archway is a door, as if a porter once kept the gate.
[Illustration: Offerton Hall (Front View).]
[Illustration: Offerton Hall (Back View).]
Open the barn doors and peep inside. At one end, raised high above the
floor, you will see a large wooden platform, which can be raised up
and down at will, and is used for clipping sheep. You will also notice
that the great oak beams or rafters which support the roof of the barn
extend down to the ground. These beams are thick and rude, and have
hardly been touched by the carpenter’s tools. They are locally known as
“crucks,” which is an older form of “crutches.” A book which has just
been published contains an extract from a lease dated 1432, in which
“crukkes” are mentioned, and it is remarkable that the word is used as
a translation of _laquearia_.[59] The barn at Offerton Hall consists
of four bays, measuring 15 feet by 16 feet each, so that the floor of
each contains 240 square feet. Some of the crutches are bigger and
heavier than the others, and they all rest on stone pedestals, varying,
according to the size of the crutches, from two to four feet from the
ground, the crutches which stand on the two lowest pedestals being the
thickest. All the crutches have mortise holes for rafters on their
outer faces about a foot above the lowest of the two tie-beams by which
they are joined together. This shows that the roof of the barn, or the
roof of an earlier building which the crutches once supported, sloped
from the ridge to the ground. The tie-beams are held in their places by
tree-nails or wooden pegs.
[59] The lessee covenants to build a house “de octo laquearibus,
Anglice viii. _crukkes_.”—Ling Roth’s _The Yorkshire Coiners_, 1906, p.
155.
As I have shown elsewhere, the bay was a unit of measurement,
containing 240 square feet. The evidence supporting this conclusion
may be seen in various ancient documents. For instance, in the twelfth
century, the villans of Aucklandshire had to “make the bishop’s hall
in the forest, of the length of 60 feet, and of the breadth within
the posts (_infra postes_) of sixteen feet.”[60] In other words, the
hall was to consist of four bays of 240 square feet each, like those
in the barn at Offerton. In 1694 there was a fire at Long Eaton, near
Derby, which “consumed fourteen dwelling houses, togeather with the
barnes, stables, outhouses, and other buildings, containeinge ninety
bayes of buildings.”[61] Here the houses of a village are estimated
by the bay, which must have been a recognised measure of quantity. It
appears in the Eckington Court Rolls that in 1758 a man borrowed £40
on the security of “all that one bay of a barn, situate and being in
the High Lane, called the Farr Bay, and all that close there called
the Farr Over Close adjoining to the High Lane aforesaid southwards,
containing by estimation three acres.” In 1764 an Eckington man and his
wife surrendered “all that middle bay of a barn situate and being at
High Lane aforesaid, together with twelve yards and two feet of land
in length on the north side of the said barn, and one yard in breadth,
with all the priveledges and appurtenances to the same belonging,” to
the use of John Gill, of Cuckhold’s Haven, in the parish of Eckington,
sicklesmith. The meaning is that bays, being measures of quantity, were
sold like acres, or, rather, like links of sausages. We must not, of
course, suppose that all bays were exactly of the same size, or that
each of them contained an area of exactly 240 square feet. We might as
well expect every acre in the fields to contain exactly 4,840 square
yards.
[60] _Boldon Buke_ (Surtees Soc.), pp. 26, 62.
[61] Document in Cox’s _Annals of Derbyshire_, vol. ii., p. 294.
In examining the outside of Offerton Hall, the first thing to be
noticed is a small projection from the back or western side. It is a
quadrangular tower, and contains the stairs which supply the two upper
floors of the building. As will be imagined from the outer appearance,
the stairs are not spiral, but go in short, straight flights, with
proper landings. The steps are of stone; first, six steps and then a
landing; in nine more steps you get to the first floor; after this, six
steps and a landing, then, the uppermost floor or garret. The staircase
is really a detached room, and you can only get into it by opening a
door. Taking the word in its etymological meaning, a staircase is a
“case” which holds a “stair” or ladder. In some old Lincolnshire houses
the “stair” is in fact a ladder inside a little closet, like a voting
compartment, in a corner of one of the rooms. At Garner House, about
a mile from Offerton, the winding stair, now of wood, but formerly
of stone, is in a round turret at the back of the house; half of the
turret is visible outside, the other half is concealed in the wall.
Offerton Hall is one of those buildings which have escaped the
practical joke of “restoration.” It consists of a “house-place” or
large central room, with a projecting wing on either side—a form
which was very common in the seventeenth century. In the angle formed
by the “house-place” and the southern wing is a yellow-washed stone
porch, about two feet deep. Just above the entrance to the porch is a
tiny window, with diamond panes and angular top. Below, in an incised
panel, the letters M.G. are carved, and, just beneath those letters,
R.G. 1658. Although the plan of the house is consistent throughout,
it was not all built at the same time, and the two pairs of initials
may represent two different owners or builders. Ralph Glossop, of
Offerton, appears in the Hope Easter Roll for this very year 1658, and
also Edward Glossop, of the same place.[62] A list of the freeholders
of Derbyshire made in 1633[63] shows that Ralph Glossop was the only
freeholder at Offerton in that year. According to Hunter’s large
_Pedigree Book_, printed by the Harleian Society, Ralph Glossop, of
Offerton, married Elizabeth, daughter of Dr. Jeremy Ward, of Ashop, in
Derbyshire.[64] This Ralph Glossop is not, like his neighbour Thomas
Eyre, of Highlow, described in the list of freeholders as an esquire,
and accordingly Offerton Hall would seem to have been the residence of
a substantial yeoman.
[62] _Derbyshire Archæological Journal_, vol. xi., p. 21.
[63] _Op. cit._, vol. vi., p. 7.
[64] _Familiæ Minorum Gentium_, 647.
Opening out of the little porch is a strong oak door, studded with
iron nails. The height of the door is five feet eight inches, and it
is below the level of the sill or threshold, so that when you enter
the house you go down one step. As you enter you must take care both
of your head and your feet, or you may come to grief at both ends. Dr.
Troels Lund says that in Danish houses of the sixteenth century “the
door was extremely low, so that a person entering had to bend down,
and at the same time the sill was so high that the foot had to be well
lifted up. And if a man had reason to fear a hostile attack, it was a
considerable help that the entrance, which was always a weak point,
should be as narrow and low as possible; if the door were burst open,
the enemy might get his death-blow as he stepped over the sill with his
back bent and his foot lifted up.”[65]
[65] _Das Tägliche Leben in Skandinavien während des sechzehnten
Jahrhunderts_, Copenhagen, 1882, p. 12.
At Offerton Hall, instead of lifting your leg up you have to drop it
down, and at the same time if you are a tall man you have to bend your
neck. In the English, as in the Danish case, the intention was to make
entrance difficult, and to prevent surprises. The thick oak door opens
inwardly. As you go in you do not see the house-place; you face the
great chimney wall, and to get into the house-place you pass through
another door on your right. Thus the house contains both an inner and
an outer porch, the inner porch answering to the “speer” of Lancashire
cottages which have no outer porch. The door of entrance is fastened by
an oak bolt one foot nine inches in length, and three inches by four in
thickness. The bolt fits into a hole in the wall, and is drawn out by
an iron ring.
The house-place, or “house-body” as they call it at Halifax, is still
the centre of domestic intercourse, as it has always been. As you
enter, your back is turned to the great fireplace which once warmed
all the house, and which was kept burning day and night. When you
get inside the house-place the great vault of the chimney, more than
eleven feet wide, is before you, spanned by a depressed arch. People
in the neighbourhood speak of the chimney of Offerton Hall as “a
lantern chimney.” If you ask them why it was so called, somebody may
tell you, without blushing, that it was because a man went up to sweep
it with a lantern. The term “lantern chimney” is not to be found
in dictionaries, and may therefore be presumed to be unknown. There
must once have been a louver or lantern at the top of the chimney at
Offerton, like the one, for instance, at Tisbury, in Wiltshire, figured
in Parker’s _Glossary_. The chimney at Tisbury is octangular, with a
conical roof, like the top of a stable lantern, and with lateral holes
for the emission of smoke. The summit of the chimney at Offerton may
originally have been of this form.
The base of the chimney has a breadth of twelve feet six inches on one
side, and ten feet six inches on the other. It is built of stone, and
in the chamber above the house-place it begins to taper off, so that
its sides might be compared to the “steps” on the Great Pyramid. Big
central chimneys like this are the first rude attempts to get rid of
the open hearth, from which the smoke escaped by a hole in the roof, or
by a louver. It is said that “chimneys were not used in the farmhouses
of Cheshire till within forty years of the publication of King’s _Vale
Royal_ (1636); the fire was in the midst of the house, against a hob of
clay, and the oxen lived under the same roof.”[66]
[66] Whitaker’s _Craven_, 1812, p. 334.
The rooms of the house are about eight feet high on the ground floor,
and seven feet on the upper floor, and the principals supporting the
roof in the garret are a good deal like the crutches which have just
been described. There is no panelling in the house, and no cellar. In
front of the building is an old-fashioned garden.
In 1545 Robert Glossop, of Offerton, was fined for trespassing on
Abney Common.[67] In 1465 John Glossop, of Wodsetys, in Norton (Norton
Woodseats, near Sheffield), leased to Henry Foliaumbe a messuage in
Offerton called Le Storthe for twelve years.[68] It would not be
difficult to make out a considerable history of the Glossop family and
their relations from the Lichfield wills and the other usual sources of
information.
[67] _Derbyshire Archæological Journal_, vol. xxiii., p. 89.
[68] Jeayes, _Derbyshire Charters_.
We must not be in too great a hurry to conclude that Offerton means
upper farm, as Over Haddon means Upper Haddon. Overton, in Ashover,
means upper farm, but Mr. Jeayes has shown that in the thirteenth
century Offerton, in Hathersage, occurs once as Hofnertoun, and that
a man called Eustace de Hofnerton lived there.[69] Other early forms
of the name are Offirtun and Offreton; in _Domesday_ it appears as
Offertune, a berewick of Hope. Mr. Searle has told us that _Offerd_
is found in Old English charters and in _Domesday_ as a form of the
man’s name _Osfrith_,[70] and, if we could put aside Hofnertoun as a
scribe’s error, this is probably the first element of the word. In the
thirteenth century we have Over Offerton and Nether Offerton, otherwise
_Kauereshegge_.[71] Was Nether Offerton ever so called? Possibly the
scribe should have written _Hauereshegge_, a form of Hathersage, as old
documents show.
[69] Jeayes, _Derbyshire Charters_.
[70] _Onomasticon Anglo-Saxonicum_, Cambridge, 1897.
[71] Jeayes, _op. cit._
The Offerton Hall estate is the property of H. Cunliffe Shawe, Esq.,
of Weddington Hall, Nuneaton, to whom it has descended from Robert
Newton, Esq., of Norton House, who was born in 1713 and died in 1789.
Mr. Newton was a wealthy man and a great purchaser of land, this being
one of his many estates. In a survey belonging to Mr. Shawe, made about
eighty years ago, the Offerton Hall property is described as containing
eighty-five acres, and as including the following fields: The Acre with
Kentny Barn, Great Kentny, Kentny Meadow, Kentny Wood, Breedy Acre
with the Precipice, Wild Hey, Siss Acres, Cornhill Cap Meadow, and
Great White Ley. As the map shows, Kentny Meadow is close to the hall.
A place called Kenteney, in Upper Offerton, is mentioned in deeds of
the thirteenth century.[72] This name represents an older _Centan-īg_,
meaning Centa’s “island,” and we have the same termination _ey_ (_īg_
or _īeg_) in Abney, which adjoins Offerton, and in a manuscript survey
of 1451 is written Albeney.[73] We can rely upon this form of the name,
not only because it was taken from an older survey, but because the
surname De Albeney occurs in North Derbyshire in 1250.[74] Now the
surname Albeyn is found at Chesterfield in 1339,[75] and is the English
form of the Latin _Albāgnus_. Abney, therefore, means Alban’s “island.”
Eyam, which adjoins, is written Eium or Eyum in the thirteenth century,
and the termination _-um_ is so very frequent that we cannot doubt
that it is a dative plural, and that the word means “islands.” These
“islands,” it need hardly be said, were not pieces of land surrounded
by water. They remind us of the intermixed townships which are so
frequent in some parts of England, as if strangers or conquerors had
settled amongst a conquered people. At Eyam, the “islands” seem to have
been the lands which were held by military tenure, or “hastler lands,”
as they were known in the neighbourhood.
[72] Jeayes, _Derbyshire Charters_.
[73] _Feodarium_, in the possession of the Duke of Norfolk.
[74] _Derbyshire Archæological Journal_.
[75] Jeayes, _op. cit._
Siss Acres may be six acres, for Chaucer has _sis_ for six. If so,
the word is interesting as pointing to French influence in the
neighbourhood.
In 1611 it is said that Offerton is a manor of itself, then in the
tenure of Henry Cavendish, Esq.[76]
[76] _Derbyshire Archæological Journal_, vol. xxiii., 89.
ROODS, SCREENS, AND LOFTS IN DERBYSHIRE CHURCHES
By Aymer Vallance, F.S.A.
Although still comprising a considerable amount of excellent
screenwork, the county of Derby has suffered grievous losses in
this regard, losses for which, if fanaticism in the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries was primarily responsible, ignorance and
indifference in the eighteenth century, and wilful perversity of
so-called “restorers” during the “Gothic revival” of the nineteenth,
have produced consequences not less disastrous.
At the beginning of the religious revolution in England, inaugurated
in the reign of Henry VIII., every church and chapel in the land had
its rood-screen, surmounted by a rood-loft. Above them both was the
great rood, or cross, with a figure of Our Lord outstretched upon it,
flanked almost invariably by statues of St. Mary and St. John. Of these
ornaments the rood-loft was the latest to be developed, not becoming
general previously to the fifteenth century. It had, however, been
preceded in cathedral and monastic churches by the pulpitum, a thick
wall with a gallery on the top of it at the west end of the quire. In
churches of this class, the rood-screen would be situated parallel to
the pulpitum, but further westwards, in the nave.
[Illustration: Fenny Bentley Church: Rood-Screen.]
The pulpitum and the parish church rood-screen, although the former is
usually a solid stone structure, while the latter consists of openwork,
and is of wood rather than of stone, so far resemble one another
that both have a central doorway, whereas the cathedral and monastic
rood-screen appears to have had, as a rule, two doorways in it, one at
the north and the other at the south end, with an altar (which ranked
as the principal one among the altars of the nave) placed between them.
It was in front of this altar, and at the foot of the great rood, that
the procession, which perambulated the church before High Mass on
Sundays and great feasts, having traversed the appointed route, finally
drew up to make a solemn station. This done, those taking part in the
procession would file off to right and left in two divisions, either of
them passing through one of the doors in the rood-screen, and thence
under the pulpitum into the quire for the celebration of the chief
service of the day.
In illustration of the foregoing, it is of interest to recall that
excavations, carried on at the end of the seventies of the nineteenth
century, on the site of the Premonstratensian Abbey of Dale, revealed,
at the eastern crossing, the bases of the two parallel walls of the
pulpitum, about five feet apart, and pierced by a central doorway, 4
ft. 6 in. wide. A year later much of the tile pavement of the nave was
unearthed, disclosing the tiles spaced and arranged in bands to mark
the exact position for the procession, as before described. Further
may be cited the accounts of the sale of the effects of the abbey,
drawn up by order of the Royal Commissioners on its dissolution in
1538. This document is dated 24th October, in the thirtieth year of
King Henry VIII.’s reign. It enumerates, beside “the seats in the
Quier; a crucifyx, Mary and John; a payre of organs; ... the rode alter
in the Churche,” _i.e._, in the nave, “and a rode there,” _i.e._,
presumably the great rood. Another item disposed of, viz., “The
partition of tymber in the body of the Churche,” most probably refers
to the rood-screen in the nave; while the before-named “rode alter”
would be, by analogy, the altar in the midst of the rood-screen; for
such was the usual dedication. The greater number of the fittings of
Dale Abbey were acquired at the sale by Francis Pole, of Radburne. It
is, therefore, not without good reason that certain linen-fold panels
in Radburne Church—eighteen in all—have been identified as belonging
formerly to the rood-screen of the abbey church. And yet another item
sold, “a grate of yren” (iron) “abowte the Founder and the tymber worke
there” would include parclose screenwork such as is described hereafter.
The church of another Premonstratensian abbey also, that of Beauchief
(founded between 1172 and 1176), had its altar of the Holy Cross.
Evidence of the fact is extant in the shape of a deed, _circa_ 1300,
by which Sir Thomas de Chaworth, lord of Norton, made over the entire
village of Greenhill, moor included, by way of endowment, to maintain a
canon to celebrate mass at the altar of that name in perpetuity. I have
found no other particulars of Beauchief bearing on the present subject
except in the inventory, dated 2nd August, 1536, wherein occurs:—“It’m
a p’ of organnes,” which same may be assumed to have stood upon the top
of the pulpitum.
Neither, again, has very much that is relevant come to light concerning
the vanished church of the Augustinian canons at Darley. Their abbey,
in its time the largest and most important of the religious houses of
Derbyshire, was suppressed in the autumn of 1538, as the result of
three months’ unremitting pressure on the part of Cromwell’s agent,
Thomas Thacker. This man actually wrote, at the close of the first
three months, to inform his master how little effect his cajoleries
and threats had had upon the abbot; and to solicit the all-powerful
minister’s favour and help in securing possession of the house and
goods for himself, when he should have succeeded in the design of
coercing the unhappy man. It is at least some slight satisfaction to
know that Thacker’s petition was disregarded as far as Darley Abbey was
concerned. The abbot’s consent to the suppression at length wrung from
him, no time was lost before cataloguing and selling the effects of the
abbey. The inventory of the sale is dated 24th October (only two days
later than the signing of the act of “surrender”), and comprises the
“Great Crucyfyx” of the abbey church and “tymber about ... Seint Sythes
Chapell,” meaning, obviously, the parclose screens that surrounded it.
With the foregoing may be compared the priory church of another
Augustinian house, founded in 1172 at Repton. The inventory of the
sale, dated likewise in October in the year 1538, specifies, besides
the rood, at least six partitions of timber, or parcloses, fencing
round the chapels respectively of Our Lady, St. John, St. Nicholas,
and St. Thomas. The church, dismantled, as has been stated, under
Henry VIII., still continued standing “most beautiful,” according to
the testimony of the historian Fuller, until the reign of Queen Mary,
when, in a single day, it was utterly demolished by the intruder in
occupation, Gilbert Thacker. This miscreant belonged to a family
deeply tainted with the guilt of sacrilege. He was, in fact, son and
heir of the before-named Thomas Thacker, and becoming alarmed at the
news of the rehabilitation of the religious orders, and determined to
prevent such an eventuality in the case of Repton Priory, promptly
acted on that resolve by destroying, as he himself expressed it, “the
nest, for fear the birds should build therein again.” Excavations
conducted in 1882 and two successive years on the site of the former
church, discovered practically all that is ever likely, under the
circumstances, to be learned from investigations on the spot. The
results, embodied in two reports by Mr. W. H. St. John Hope, were
published in volumes vi. and vii. of the _Journal of the Derbyshire
Archæological Society_, from which, as comprising the whole of the
available information relevant to the present subject, the following
particulars have, for the most part, been extracted.
The stone pulpitum, like that at Dale, occupied the space between
the two piers of the eastern crossing; but, unlike the Dale pulpitum,
the Repton one was a solid structure. It measures 5 ft. 4½ in. deep
from east to west, and is pierced by a central doorway 4 ft. 4½ in.
wide. Its eastward front, against which backed the return stalls,
measures 26 ft. 2 in., the total width of the quire. The westward
façade (except for the door-jambs, which are moulded and flanked on
either side by an ornamental buttress, and when uncovered in 1883
showed traces of brilliant scarlet and black colouring) was austerely
plain. Its flatness was relieved, however, by the loft above being made
to overhang. That this was so is deduced from the fact that had the
loft-floor not projected beyond the area of the base of the pulpitum,
there would have been insufficient room for anyone ascending to the
top to turn round on emerging from the staircase. The latter, 3 ft.
2½ in. wide, was hollowed out of the solid in the northern half of
the pulpitum, and raked upwards in a straight flight from south to
north. The “pair of organs” named in the inventory, stood, it may be
assumed, on the platform at the top. That the pulpitum itself must
have been coeval (_circa_ 1275–1300) with the piers and integral in
structure with them, is manifest from the plinth that forms the base of
pulpitum and piers alike being finished with the same hollow chamfer
continuously all round it. A curious feature is that, notwithstanding
there is a step leading up from the nave to the pulpitum door, on the
east side there is a descent of one step again on to the floor of the
quire. South of the pulpitum a screen of wood shut off the quire’s
south aisle (which is ten feet wide) from the transept. Another screen,
in line with the last-named one, extending 21 ft. 9 in., _i.e._, as
far as the south wall of the transept, enclosed the spacious chapel
of Our Lady, which was situated parallel to the quire, on the south
side of the quire’s south aisle. The former existence of these screens
is proved by holes sunk in the masonry to receive the timber work.
The north transept was too ruinous to furnish any indication of its
ancient screen arrangements; but there were found some signs of a
screen having stood between the first pair of piers in the nave (which,
exclusive of the aisles, is 22 ft. 2 in. wide). This would, of course,
be the position of the rood-screen proper.
To resume, as to collegiate churches, some were provided, like
cathedrals, with a solid pulpitum, others with a rood-loft only,
which in their case had to do duty for pulpitum; that is to say,
the ceremonial singing of the Gospel was wont, as in cathedrals and
monastic churches, to take place on the top of it at High Mass on
Sundays and great feasts. The knowledge of this circumstance has
given rise, apparently, to the mistaken notion that the rood-loft in
ordinary parochial churches was used for the same purpose, which was
decidedly not the case. Nay, in some parish churches sculptured stone
desks, projecting from the north wall of the chancel, near the high
altar, were provided expressly, as authorities on the subject agree,
for the reading of the Gospel at that spot, in contradistinction to
the cathedral, monastic, and collegiate usage. The Derbyshire parish
churches of Chaddesden, Crich, Etwall, Mickleover, Spondon, and
Taddington are especially remarkable as being fitted with lecterns of
this description.
Against the east side of a pulpitum return stalls for clergy or monks
were invariably fixed; but that this arrangement was not confined
exclusively to cathedral, monastic, and collegiate churches is proved
by the fact that certain Derbyshire churches, which have never belonged
to any of those categories, and could scarcely even be described as
connected except indirectly with cells of religious houses in their
neighbourhood, _e.g._, those at Chaddesden, Elvaston, Norbury, and
Sawley, were provided with return stalls in the chancel. And again, not
least extraordinary, in the out-of-the-way parish of Chelmorton, the
ancient rood-screen, itself of stone, to this day still has a stone
bench attached to it, and running the length of its eastern side, for
clergy to occupy, backs to the screen and faces towards the altar, just
as though in a cathedral quire or in that of some religious order.
[Illustration: Norbury Church: Stall End attached to Jamb of
Rood-Screen.]
Three of the before-named churches, viz., Chaddesden, Elvaston,
and Norbury, present (or, rather, if the handiwork of the mediæval
joiners had not been subsequently tampered with in any of them, would
present) a feature highly characteristic of Derbyshire churches in
the treatment of the outer ends of the return stalls that flank
the passage through the rood-screen into the chancel. The Norbury
specimen (see illustration), handsomely sculptured, with a panel of
vine ornament, and with a projecting elbow formed of the half-length
figure of an angel, is, however, in point of size the least accentuated
of the three. But the pair at Chaddesden, with a series of enormous
crockets climbing high up the eastward face of the muntins which form
the entrance jambs, if scarcely noticeable when the screen is
viewed from the nave, are very conspicuous from within the chancel;
so much so, indeed, as to dominate and outscale all the rest of the
screenwork to which they belong. How so strange an anomaly ever came
to be introduced into an ordinary parish church is merely conjecture.
The quire of the church of All Hallows, Derby—the sole collegiate
foundation in the county surviving as such until the sixteenth
century—must, of course, have been furnished with return stalls; but
whether they exhibited the huge proportions of those at Chaddesden, or
whether, if that were so, the Chaddesden stall ends were or were not
deliberately imitated from those of All Hallows’, one may wonder and
argue as one will, without the possibility of arriving any the nearer
to positive assurance on the subject.
[Illustration: Chaddesden Church: Detail of Rood-Screen from the
Chancel.]
In default of a cathedral church within the borders of Derbyshire,
the tendency would be to emphasize the dignity and importance of its
greater churches. Among these the grand collegiate church of All
Hallows was foremost, and as such it came to be regarded as, in some
sort, the minster and mother church of all the southern part of the
county. Thus it would, perhaps, be but natural that All Saints’,
Derby, should supply the model for numbers of churches round about,
and that its individual features should reproduce themselves even in
some of the furthest corners of the shire. The love of generations
of Derbyshire men for the fabric of this glorious church, and the
jealous pride with which they defended its ancient privileges, are
matters of history; and if it is not possible now to trace to a common
original the distinguishing features of the churches of the county in
general, which would, in all probability, have had their prototype in
All Saints’, the ever-to-be-regretted reason is that the whole of the
venerable building, with the exception of the tower at the west end,
has disappeared—wantonly and wilfully destroyed in February, 1722–3.
This irreparable loss was brought about solely through the guile and
strategy of one unscrupulous tyrant, the then minister in charge, Rev.
Michael Hutchinson, D.D., the memory of whose deed and name deserves to
be handed down in undying opprobrium.
Neither plan nor any satisfactorily complete description of the
mediæval church of All Hallows is extant; but this much is known, that
it comprised nave and aisles and quire, with a chapel on the south,
and that it contained, besides other altars, a chantry of Our Lady and
one, also, of St. Nicholas. Both of these—the fact is established by a
process of elimination, the south chapel having been appropriated to
St. Katherine—were situated in the body of the church, and would almost
certainly have been enclosed within screens such as survive in a number
of Derbyshire churches to this day.
And here, before proceeding further, it is necessary to point out how
largely the ground plan favoured in the churches of mediæval Derbyshire
has affected and determined the conditions of their screening system.
At the same time, I would add that what I am about to say does not
pretend to universal application in every individual church throughout
the county; for, in the nature of things, there are bound to be plenty
of exceptions. Nevertheless, that the main trend of development
proceeded along the lines indicated will not, I think, admit of dispute.
Now, in other districts, a church of the scale and grandeur of that,
say, of Ashbourne, Bakewell, Melbourne, Norbury, or Spondon, could
scarcely have failed to be enlarged, when extra chapels came to be
called for, by the addition of chancel aisles. And yet in every one of
these Derbyshire instances the chancel is aisleless—an anomaly, surely,
remarkable enough! Nay (albeit the important churches of Chesterfield,
Morley, and Norton, for example, testify to the contrary), it is
noticeable in how many cases almost any other device was more welcome
than that which would have involved interfering with and arcading
the side walls of the chancel. An east aisle to the transept would
occur more readily than the erection of a new aisle to the chancel in
cruciform churches (as, for instance, at Ashbourne and Bakewell), or,
in churches where there was no transept to widen nor to appropriate,
the area of the nave itself (as at Fenny Bentley), or of the nave
aisles (as at Elvaston and Sawley), would be encroached upon for the
purpose; the wealthy corporate body or individual having as little
hesitation about annexing and enclosing the amount of the parish
church’s space which they wanted for their own uses, as they would
about enclosing (provided it could be accomplished with impunity) the
people’s common land. A typical Derbyshire parclose, then, is no mere
grate within an arch, to connect the one side of it with the other,
but rather a formidable barrier fencing in, on two sides, a specific
portion of the body of the church, and even, may be, comprehending (as
in the before-mentioned instances of Elvaston and Sawley) a column or
more of the arcade itself.
Whatever may be thought of the propriety of this local caprice (for
what else was it which, in a county abounding with excellent building
stone, could have caused the bodies of parish churches to be thus
cut up with internal partitions, instead of extending them from
without by additional chapels and chancel aisles for the reception
of fresh chantries?), the net result has been to enrich Derbyshire
with even greater distinction in respect of its parcloses than of
its rood-screens; notwithstanding the parcloses which still remain
represent only a proportion of all those ascertained to have been
formerly in existence, but such that have now gone, many of them, and
left nothing beyond the bare record behind; or of that, no doubt,
larger quantity whereof even the very memorial has perished.
Some of them have been shifted from their original positions and made
up afresh, others have been cut short or otherwise maltreated and
defaced; but, for all that, it is not too much to say that there is not
a county in the kingdom can boast as magnificent a series of parclose
screens as this one still possesses, in more or less perfect condition,
in the respective churches of Ashbourne, Bakewell, Chesterfield,
Elvaston, and Kirk Langley. The exquisite parclose which runs the whole
length of the south transept at Chesterfield, with its vaulted cornice,
rather resembles a rood-screen. The truly characteristic variety of
parcloses, however, should be sought, not at Chesterfield, but at
Ashbourne, Bakewell, Elvaston, and Sawley. A peculiarity common to all
four is the pierced tracery panelling of the lower half of the screen.
In each case, except in the Bakewell parclose, it takes the form of a
horizontal band of ornament immediately beneath the rail or cill of the
fenestration. Such is the feature which, as I submit, constitutes the
speciality of parcloses as distinguished from rood-screens. And it is
just because of its being present also in the screenwork now made up
into a chancel-screen at St. Peter’s, Derby, that I am disinclined to
believe that this particular screen was designed in the first place for
a purpose other than that of a parclose.
[Illustration: Elvaston Church: Parclose Screen in the South Aisle.]
The history of this screen has not been uneventful. It is well known
to have belonged formerly to the church at Crich, and to have been
ejected from thence at the devastating “restoration” which befel in
1861. Conveyed to a timber-merchant’s yard, for awhile it lay there
awaiting a ruin that seemed imminent, until the late Rev. W. Hope, at
that time vicar of St. Peter’s, fortunately saw it, acquired it, and
set it up, repaired and remodelled, in its present position. To return,
now, for a moment to the matter of Crich church. It is on record that
there were two chantries founded here by William de Wakebridge in the
fourteenth century. The one, receiving episcopal licence in 1357, was
situated in the north aisle; the other, in 1368, at Our Lady’s
altar, which may be presumed to have occupied a corresponding position
in the south aisle. Both of these chantries would eventually, according
to the prevailing Derbyshire custom, have been surrounded with parclose
screenwork. Of the remains of that which stood in the north aisle,
the heraldic painter, Bassano, and also J. Reynolds, took note when
they visited Crich church, the first in 1710, the second in 1758. I
do not gather, however, that either of them recorded the existence
of a rood-screen there. This negative evidence on their part is too
significant to be set aside, and so, commonly though it is stated
that the screen at St. Peter’s, Derby, is identical with the ancient
rood-screen of Crich church, I am not convinced. I can more readily
suppose that the Rev. W. Hope was too thankful at having secured so
authentic a relic of antiquity to spend time in prosecuting any very
searching inquiry as to the precise nature of the office it might have
fulfilled in days gone by; but that, seeing his own church was bare of
a rood-screen, he very naturally adapted the screen which he had become
possessed of to supply the deficiency, although comparative study of
the design and formation of Derbyshire screens in general might have
led him, as it has led me, to conclude that this one from Crich could
not originally have been a rood-screen.
Neither, again, may the apparent exception, which the chancel-screen
in Haddon Hall chapel affords, be adduced. For, though it is true that
to-day visitors to Haddon find, beneath the fenestration cill on either
half of the screen there, a band of Gothic tracery—authentic, if of a
somewhat flamboyant type—which fits its position plausibly enough, the
view of the chapel by George Cattermole, lithographed by S. Rayner,
and published in 1839, while agreeing in every other particular with
the present unchanged aspect of the place, shows no ornament here at
all. The panels were still without tracery when, between 1880 and
1885, a photograph of the interior was taken, which is reproduced in
the third volume of _The Abbey Square Sketch Book_; and the Rev. Dr.
Cox possesses a coloured sketch, dated 1898, which does not differ in
this regard from the earlier representations. But in either event the
screen at Haddon, whether traceried or plain, is no case in point, for
the simple reason that the panelling itself is blind. In order to be
analogous to the parcloses at Ashbourne, Elvaston, and Sawley, it would
need to be perforated.
As far as I have been able to ascertain, the following are the
churches which contain the most notable parclose screens:—Ashbourne,
Bakewell, Chesterfield, Darley Dale (stone), Elvaston, Fenny Bentley
(moved from its place), Kirk Langley (portions made up), and Sawley
(the lower parts only of two parcloses); while, if not now, there
existed anciently, or there are believed to have existed, parcloses
at Alkmonton hospital chapel, Ashover, Chelmorton (stone), Church
Broughton, Crich, old St. Alkmund’s, and old All Hallows’ and St.
Peter’s in Derby, Horsley, Longford, Longstone, Mugginton, Norbury,
Radburne, Tideswell, Weston-on-Trent, and Youlgreave. But all this on
the subject of parcloses is to anticipate.
[Illustration: Ilkeston Church: Stone Rood-Screen, from the Chancel.]
The earliest surviving screenwork in Derbyshire does not date back any
earlier than the beginning of the fourteenth century, and is, as might
be expected, of stone. Of this material, the most imposing specimen is
the rood-screen at Ilkeston, and that notwithstanding the excessive
“restorations” it has had to undergo at various times, particularly in
1855—ordeals out of which it has emerged in a very different condition
from that which it must originally have presented. The upper part has
been scraped and renovated; the columns smoothed and repolished. And
as for the lower part, one can only say that to afford any effective
protection to the chancel it must have been something far more
substantial than the gaunt skeleton framework it is at the present day.
The screen occupies the opening from the nave into the chancel. It
consists of an arcade of five arches, which, cinquefoil-cusped and
having pierced quatrefoils in the spandrils, spring from cylindrical
columns of grey marble, with circular moulded caps and bases. These
again rise from a horizontal moulded rail, supported on similar
columns; the whole standing upon a stone plinth. The mouldings and
capitals of the columns (some of which only are original) have an Early
English appearance, but the main part of the screen is of later style.
The markedly ogival form of the doorhead betokens a fairly developed
phase of Decorated. Along the top of the screen runs a simple coping
ridge, which, if not the original, represents well enough the type of
finish a screen of the period would have had in the days before the
introduction of rood-lofts into parish churches. The doorway centres
4 ft. 2½ in., with a clear opening of 3 ft. 10 in.; the side bays
having an average centring of 3 ft. 2½ in. The total height of the
screen, as at present made up, is 14 ft. 6 in., a dimension greatly
disproportionate to its comparatively short length of 17 ft. 4½ in.
It may be explained that the photograph was taken from the chancel
in order to avoid the halation of the east window, both sides of the
screen being alike.
The stone rood-screen at Chelmorton, if less ancient than the foregoing
by some thirty or forty years, is the more interesting, because it has
been allowed to retain its original form almost untouched. The screen
stands in the chancel arch (12 ft. 6 in. wide), and consists of two
parts, having a clear opening of four feet between them. The northern
half measures 4 ft. 3½ in. long, the southern half one inch less. The
motif is that of an embattled wall, 6 ft. 6 in. high, with a pierced
band of quatrefoils to the depth of twenty inches from the level of the
top, and, beneath, blind panelling of trefoil-headed ogival arches. The
screen wall being flat on its upper surface, might well have afforded
a foundation for timber screenwork above it; for owing to the rise of
the ground towards the east, the chancel floor is three steps higher
than that of the nave, and consequently the screen has but a moderate
elevation on its eastward side. There is, however, no sign of any
mortice holes visible in it. Built into the wall of the porch is a
slab of stone, sculptured with quatrefoils, which was dug up under the
floor, and is conjectured to have formed part of a parclose, matching
the rood-screen and screening of the south transept for a chantry
chapel.
At Monks’ Dale, in Tideswell parish, was formerly a grange, with a
chapel attached, supposed to have belonged to Lenton Priory. The
walls of the chapel are overthrown down to the foundations. “All that
remains of it above ground are the beautifully carved stones of the
low ... stone screen that divided the chancel from the nave. They are
of fourteenth century work”—of the date 1360, _circa_, according to
the late Rev. Prebendary Andrew—“and exactly correspond to those ...
in the chancel of Chelmorton.” This account appeared in 1877. By 1882
the aforesaid stonework had been removed to the vicarage garden at
Tideswell.
Embedded in a wall in Allestree parish, near the site of the old manor
house, on the road to Mackworth, is, or recently was, to be seen
another fragment of worked stone, with sculptured quatrefoils, and
altogether so closely resembling the before-named examples as to lead
to the conclusion that it must have formed part of an ancient screen in
Allestree or some neighbouring church.
[Illustration: Chelmorton Church:
Southern Half of Stone Rood-Screen.]
[Illustration: Darley Dale Church:
Detail of Stone Parclose.]
A rood-screen of similar design is believed to have occupied the
chancel opening (13 ft. 6 in. wide) at Darley Dale church, to judge
from a fragment of stone carving lying (as recorded in 1877) in the
parish clerk’s garden there. In the south aisle of this church, close
to the south door, stands a family pew, built out of the remains
of a stone parclose and the stone frames of a couple of two-light
Perpendicular windows—one having had its mullion knocked out to make
the doorway, and both betraying their extraneous origin by being
grooved in the usual manner for leaded glazing. That part of the
enclosure which is genuine screenwork comprises two distinct, though
not very incongruous, designs of the first half of the fifteenth
century. Exclusive of the alien window-work, that portion of the screen
running east and west measures 11 ft. 6 in. long; that portion running
north and south, 3 ft. 7 in. The shorter length consists of a plain
wall below a tier of cinquefoil-headed lights; the longer, of ogival
panelling in eleven cusped compartments, corresponding to the same
number of cinquefoil-headed lights in the upper part. A detail of it
is here illustrated. The blind panelling measures 4 ft. high to the
cill of the fenestration, the inclusive height of the screen being 7
ft. 6 in. It has not been ascertained whether the space enclosed by
this screen represents the original position of the chantry, but more
probably it was situated in some less westerly part of the building.
“It was unfortunately set back,” writes the Rev. Dr. Cox, “a foot or
two to give more room to the aisle in 1854, but otherwise remains as
it was before the ‘restoration.’ Stone parcloses, though of fairly
frequent occurrence round chantry tombs in cathedrals, are very rarely
met with in parish churches.”
The stone screens, then, existing, or accountable for as known to
have existed, in Derbyshire comprise those at Allestree, Chelmorton,
Darley Dale, Ilkeston, and Monks’ Dale. Another one also must be
included in the list, viz., the former rood-screen at Bakewell. From
a description of it in 1823, while it might still be seen _in situ_
separating the chancel from the rest of the church, it appears to
have been of Decorated workmanship. Either half of it measured six
feet long, exclusive of the space for the central entrance. The
recorded height, 4 ft. 9 in., implies that it was the base or plinth
merely, not the complete screen. At some subsequent time during the
“repairs” which went on from 1841 to 1851—a sad decade of disaster for
Bakewell church!—its stone screen was carried off by that notorious
archæological raider, Mr. Thomas Bateman, to swell his predatory
collection at Lomberdale House. The virtuoso himself being long
since dead, and the contents of his museum dispersed, there is now
practically no likelihood of the missing screenwork ever being traced
and recovered. If it be still in existence anywhere, it should probably
be sought for in the Weston Museum at Sheffield, whither most of the
Derbyshire spoils from Lomberdale House are said to have found their
way. If that be so, the screen ought certainly to be restored to its
rightful place again at Bakewell. The loss of so venerable a monument
cannot be too deeply deplored, and reflects the utmost discredit on all
persons concerned in the removal of this ancient screenwork from the
church to which it belonged.
The oldest actual example of timber screenwork in Derbyshire partakes
of so little in common with the generality of woodwork, either in
design or mode of treatment, that it is perhaps appropriate to deal
with it here, in association with stone screenwork, as occupying an
intermediate stage between the two several classes. I refer to the
remains of the rood-screens at Kirk Langley, which, unworthily made
up as they are into a box-door, placed at the west entrance, in the
ill-lighted lowest storey of the tower, seem to me scarcely to have
received the attention they might have claimed. Indeed, the deceptive
environment of modern accretions combines with the twilight to make
it extremely difficult for anyone to form a just estimate of the
work or of its proper dimensions. As far as the existing remains, in
their mutilated and altered condition, admit of a reconstruction of
the original plan of the screen, it would appear to have consisted
of two lengths of 4 ft. 6 in. each, and two doors of the same height
and pattern as the other part; so that, when the whole stood intact,
the fenestration must have formed a continuous arcade of trefoiled
lights, their average centring 8¾ inches, each of them with an ogival
crown, indenting a complete trefoil, balanced upon its apex. As the
illustration shows, the treatment of this tracery work is peculiar. The
component members of it—in plan square, with sides slightly concave—are
set angle-wise to the front, and present a series of prominent edges
without the usual fillet. Thus they have an effect of crisp and almost
metallic acuteness, unfamiliar in woodwork as also it is in stone.
The face of the cill below the fenestration is carved with a band of
quatrefoils, having each a four-petalled flower—not a rose—in the
centre. The design is of the fourteenth century, and it might possibly
have been executed towards the close of Edward III.’s reign, or not
later than the deposition of Richard II.
[Illustration: Kirk Langley Church: Detail of Former Rood-Screen in
Oak, XIV. Century Work.]
The remarks which follow should be understood to apply to screens
which are true timberwork, alike in _motif_ as in material. In
structure and proportions, Derbyshire screens for the most part
assimilate to the midland type, as exemplified at Newark and Strelley,
in Nottinghamshire, or Wormleighton, in Warwickshire, and as
distinguished from that of the south and west of England and Wales.
That is to say, not a few of them rise to a stately height, with
remarkably lofty fenestration; the latter being, in some instances,
narrow even to attenuation. Thus the rood-screen at Breadsall, as
far as can be judged by what remains of it, notably illustrates this
peculiarity; in which regard it affords a striking parallel to the
screenwork at Newark church before-mentioned.
But it is rather in parclose screens that this feature of excessive
elongation is more especially in evidence. To counteract its ungainly
appearance, without at the same time diminishing the extent of the
aperture, resort is had in the principal screens at Chesterfield to
the device of a transom to divide the fenestration about midway. This
horizontal member, being feathered underneath, not only enhances the
decorative character of the screenwork by the added effect of a lower
tier of tracery-headed lights, but also makes for structural strength
by providing a latitudinal junction from muntin to muntin.
Another point of similarity between Derbyshire rood-screens and the
typical midland screens at (_e.g._, at Somerton, in Oxfordshire; Blore,
in Staffordshire; Wormleighton, in Warwickshire; and Strelley, in
Nottinghamshire), and of divergence between the former and southern
examples, is that, where the design comprises vaulting, the springing
of the ribs is not necessarily in line with the cord or base of the
pierced tracery of the bay-heads (as is practically the rule for it
to be in Kent, Devonshire, and Somerset), but at a higher level,
sometimes with a discrepancy of nearly two feet between the two levels.
The result of this arrangement is not altogether happy. For traceried
ornament that extends below the limits of a tympanum, failing to define
the springing-point, tends to make the vaulting itself look dwarfed and
curtailed. For the latter to show to best advantage, the ribs should
have an obvious correspondence with the sweep of the fenestration arch
from spring to crown. Wherever it is otherwise, a sense of lack of
homogeneity between the parts cannot but be felt.
Another feature which Derbyshire screens share in common with other
midland screenwork, is the very usual inequality which the traceried
fenestration-heads present on the obverse and reverse. In the south
and east of England both surfaces are almost invariably carved and
moulded with identical design and equal completeness; so that if I met
with a detached portion of church screen tracery anywhere in Kent,
for instance, I should at once know by its treatment to what part of
a screen it belonged. For the back would only be smooth and unmoulded
if it had been intended to fit flat against blind panelling in the
lower half of a screen, and _vice versâ_. But Derbyshire tracery,
as a rule, does not furnish such indications; and so, unless the
design bore the outline of an arch, and were therefore unmistakably
intended, like the Breadsall example illustrated, for the upper part
of a vaulted screen, it would be next to impossible to determine its
place in the composition. For even _à jour_ tracery, meant to be looked
at from either side, is usually plain and flat on one surface, as in
the case of the parclose at Elvaston (see left-hand distance in the
illustration), and that also at Fenny Bentley. The rood-screens at the
latter church and at Ashover are both of them instances in which the
upper traceries are enriched with the addition of crocketed ornament on
the westward side, while they are plain and smooth on the chancel side.
In some screens, again, though the upper tracery is not indeed quite
flat at the back, there is yet a marked difference between the degree
of elaboration on the two surfaces. Thus in the tracery of the
rood-screen at Elvaston, the western face, besides being moulded, is
further embellished with crockets and finials, carved in bold relief,
in some compartments handsomely fretted and deeply undercut, and
altogether remarkably rich and varied in character (see illustration
of detail); while the side towards the east is uniformly treated with
simple moulding only. At Chaddesden the contrast between the east
and west faces respectively of the upper part of the rood-screen is
still greater. In this particular case a difference of treatment is
necessarily entailed by the somewhat unusual plan on which the screen
itself is constructed; the overhanging rood-loft (now, of course, no
longer in existence) having been carried upon the naveward side by
groined vaulting, and by a cove, instead of vaulting to correspond,
towards the chancel. The spandrils, therefore, covered by the vaulting
on the west side are exposed on the other, and present a series of
solid triangles, which would have been bare and unsightly without
applied ornament. All of these, then, together with the reverse of
the transom in the two central bays and of the muntin between them,
cut short by the entrance arch, are decorated with low relief carving
entirely unlike the front. Moreover, although the muntins on either
side are buttressed, the buttresses on the west terminate, as is usual
in the case of vaulted screens, with boutels and caps for the springing
of the groins; upon the east side, on the contrary, the buttresses
continue nearly to the top, tapering off as they approach the lintel
into graceful crocketed pinnacles.
The only recorded instances known to me of the occurrence of painting
or gilding on Derbyshire screenwork (with the exception of the Parwich
beam referred to hereafter), are those of the rood-screens at Ashover
and Norbury, and of a parclose which divided the chancel from the north
chapel at Mugginton, and which had fifteen coats of arms blazoned in
colours upon it. The screen itself has long since vanished, but the
account of it is preserved among the Harleian manuscripts in the report
of Richard St. George’s Heraldic Visitation taken in the year 1611. As
a rule, the sort of ornament to be found upon screenwork (except in
the case of panels decorated with figures, of which Derbyshire, unless
I have been mistaken, furnishes no examples) is of so essentially
abstract, and, so to speak, non-committal a character, that the enemies
of screens are seldom able, with any pretence of reason, to avail
themselves of the pleas put forward by iconoclasts as a matter of
principle.
[Illustration: Elvaston Church: Detail of Rood-Screen.]
A small and feathered angel is introduced in the carved work above
the doorway of the rood-screen at Elvaston; and there are some
exceptionally fine half-length figures of angels along the top of one
of the screens at Chesterfield. The particular screen that this carving
rests upon (now turned, though it is, into a parclose between the north
transept and its eastern chapel) is known to have been the ancient
rood-screen in Chesterfield church, and to have stood in its place
until about 1843, not long subsequently to which time it was re-erected
in the position it now occupies.
That this screen dates from the first half of the fifteenth century,
maybe, perhaps, as early as about 1430, I infer from the character
of its fenestration. The latter, consisting of a single panel of
pierced tracery in each bay, is an exact counterpart of the stone
window-tracery of the period. It differs from the method of timber
screen construction evolved subsequently, in which the muntins run
from top to bottom of the openings, and in which the effect of tracery
in each several bay-head is obtained by a combined series of separate
units of pierced work let into grooves sunk in the upper part of the
muntins. In the Chesterfield rood-screen, on the contrary (as also in
the fourteenth century rood-screen at Kirk Langley, already described),
the upright shafts in each bay merely support from below the tracery
above in the head, instead of holding it in position as between two
sides of a frame. Neither, again, in the Chesterfield example does the
spacing of the batement lights correspond with that of the three lights
at the bottom. The uneven number of the latter is abnormal. It became
far more usual, as timber screen-work developed, for the fenestration
to be divided by a central muntin into two lights (as at Breadsall
and Fenny Bentley), or (as in other parts of England) for the central
muntin, remaining a constant factor, to be supplemented by one pair
or more pairs of muntins, as the case might be, so that the number of
lights comprised in a single bay would, in all events, work out to an
even number.
And now to describe the sculptured figure work at Chesterfield in
detail, beginning at the north end of it, and proceeding from left to
right. First, then, is an eagle; and next, a composite beast, having
the head and horns of an antelope, the snout of a boar, and a chain
round the neck, clawed feet, and the body and tail of an ox. Although,
therefore, the one represents St. John, it is out of the question that
the other can ever have been intended for an evangelistic symbol,
notwithstanding they are both accompanied by scrolls. Then succeed
six demi-angels, clothed in albs, and issuant from conventional
cloud-wreaths; their wings pointing downwards in an oblique direction,
with the ends of the feathers crossed in saltire, every one’s over his
neighbour’s. Each angel bears one or more emblems or instruments of
the Passion: the first, the crown of thorns; the second, the cross;
the third, the seamless coat, together with the dice; the fourth, a
shield displaying the five sacred wounds; the fifth, the lance and
three nails; the sixth, the scourge and hammer. That this series was
originally longer is evident from the abruptly mutilated feather-tips
of another angel’s wing upon the southern or right hand extremity. He
would, doubtless, have held the ladder and pincers; but even thus, the
usual tale of emblems would scarcely be complete without the reed and
sponge, the thirty pieces of silver, or the cock that crew thrice.
How many, then, altogether of the angel figures are missing it is
impossible to tell. Moreover, it seems probable enough that there would
also have been animals with scrolls to balance those at the opposite
end. A detail of the rood-screen and of the sculpture above it, is
shown in the accompanying illustration.
[Illustration: Chesterfield Church: Detail of Screen in the North
Transept, formerly the Rood-Screen.]
The date of the angel ornament appears to be somewhere between 1465
and 1480. What remains of it now measures in length 14 ft. 6 in. by
one foot in height; the figures being carved out of the solid, and
occupying, in ordered row, the concave space of a band sunk between
two beads. That this is no rood-beam, but a superficial ornament for
the breast-summer, I can vouch, for two reasons; firstly, because the
timber itself is a mere board, not exceeding four inches in thickness
at the top, the thickest part of it; and secondly, because at the back
are unmistakable traces of mortice holes for the joists that were fixed
at right angles to it to carry the rood-loft floor. I know nothing that
so much resembles this admirably appropriate ornament as that in a
corresponding position in the stone pulpitum at Canterbury Cathedral;
and in a wooden parclose at Hitchin, in Hertfordshire. And yet I have
no hesitation in pronouncing that the Chesterfield example surpasses
the others in beauty and variety of design. It is, in a word, a very
model of its kind.
Now that screens in churches cannot have been, by quite unanimous
consent, regarded as contravening “the principles of the Protestant
Reformation,” whatever is to be understood by that portentous phrase,
is clear from the practice of erecting such fixtures having from time
to time continued long after the demise of Derby’s benefactress, Queen
Mary Tudor. Thus the chapel at Risley, erected in 1593, was furnished
with a chancel-screen of curious design, comprising cherub-heads and
other Renaissance details. Later on, the south aisle at the old parish
church of Wilne having been prolonged eastward to form a memorial
chapel to Sir John Willoughby, who died in 1602, there was set up
across the archway a heavy timber screen, with gates, which bear the
arms of Willoughby and Hawe. The composition as a whole affords a
striking sample of the depraved taste and secular spirit of the age.
Among the elaborate carved ornaments may be identified representations
of Hercules with his club; a Roman lictor with fasces and axe; satyrs
and centaurs; all intermingled with pompous, warlike trophies of
cannons, muskets, and drums! On the back of the screen is the date
of its production, 1624. Later on, a church was built at Foremark in
a spurious Gothic style, and Bishop Hacket consecrated it in 1662.
It contains a characteristic oak chancel-screen of massive build and
lofty elevation, with four glazed openings. To the above, all of them
noteworthy instances of post-Reformation screenwork in Derbyshire,
must be added the screen which separates the chancel from the nave or
ante-chapel in the chapel at Haddon Hall. For, though parts of its
woodwork, particularly the buttressed muntins, must be assigned to an
earlier date, the main portion of it unquestionably was remodelled at
the close of the sixteenth or during the first half of the seventeenth
century. The turned balusters, which in this case supply the place of
fenestration in a Gothic screen, are, like the wainscoting which lines
the chancel walls, obvious products of a later epoch.
In fact, so persistent altogether was the tradition, and so hard to
kill, that even in Dr. Hutchinson’s debased structure, which took the
place of the demolished All Hallows’, the new chancel was not left
unwarded, but was screened by iron grates. These, though exhibiting in
their design the style of the period, yet reproduced, strange to say,
quite a mediæval scheme of arrangement. A grate divided the chancel
from the nave, and was continued northward and southward right across
the building from wall to wall. And other grates again separated the
chancel from the chancel aisles. These grates, though not altogether
undisturbed, for the most part remained in position until 1873, when
the interior of the building, then barely a century and a half old,
was “restored,” and in the process the chancel grille itself, together
with other fittings hitherto spared, was taken down. Numerous details
of it are figured in the _Chronicles of All Saints’_, issued under the
joint authorship of the Rev. Dr. Cox and Mr. W. H. St. John Hope in
1881, to which volume all who may be interested in a genuinely historic
specimen of eighteenth century wrought ironwork are hereby referred.
There is one peculiar variety of mediæval screen arrangement which may
be said to belong to a class by itself. It is sufficiently uncommon,
being confined almost exclusively to domestic chapels, of which the
former infirmary chapel of Dale Abbey, and such that now serves the
purpose of parish church of Dale, furnishes an interesting example. A
sketch of the interior, in 1870 or thereabouts, is given on plate xvii.
of the late Rev. Samuel Fox’s _History of St. Matthew’s, Morley_ (1872).
The chapel consists of chancel, nave, and south aisle, the latter
separated from the nave by a wooden partition, formerly solid; long
since, however, by its panels being sawn out, converted into open
screenwork. But the main point of interest is the screen which divides
the nave from the chancel. Screen and partition alike are of oak,
and rest on a stone plinth. The chancel screen is very quaint in its
severe simplicity. It has no tracery, but the mouldings are of the
fifteenth century, the approximate date assigned to it being 1480. It
consists of seven rectagonal compartments, _i.e._, a central doorway
with three openings on either side; the muntins supporting a flat
ceiling of timber, which, extending back as far as the wall, divides
all that portion of the chapel westward of the screen itself into two
floors. The upper one of these opens, gallery wise, into the chancel.
Traces of a somewhat similar arrangement exist in a ruined oratory at
Godstow Nunnery, on the banks of the upper river, near Oxford; and
another instance has been noted in one of the chapels at Tewkesbury
Abbey church. It is paralleled also in a sort at the private chapel
of Brede Place, Sussex, but the plan of an upper storey, supported
by a partition screen, does not express itself there in nearly so
striking and complete a manner as at Dale. Other instances known are
the chapels at Berkeley Castle and Compton Wynyates respectively. It
may be mentioned that at Dale, since there is no internal communication
between the gallery and the ground floor, the former has to be
approached by an external staircase through a door on the upper level.
And, next, to consider the subject of the rood-loft. It would, of
course, be situated at a greater height than the screen; as a rule,
immediately above the latter, and connected organically with it, the
structural braces being boxed within a casing of coved panel-work or
of vaulting, with groins and bosses in imitation of stone masonry. As
originally erected, the ancient rood-screens at Ashover, Breadsall,
Chaddesden, and Norbury furnished instances of groined vaulting,
now perished. The only screens, to the best of my knowledge, in
Derbyshire which have not lost their vaulting are the rood-screens at
Fenny Bentley and the parclose of the south transept in Chesterfield
church. The first-named has been a good deal restored, and the latter
has not altogether escaped. Both are examples of screens in which
the irregularly shaped panels between the ribs are enriched with
tracery ornament, a device that enhances the overhanging vaults with a
delightful suggestion of mystery lurking within their shadowy recesses.
I do not think that the Chesterfield parclose was ever surmounted,
in rood-loft fashion, with a parapet, although the upper part of it
expands eastwards and westwards quite far enough to have provided the
accommodation of an average rood-loft had it been required.
The nearest approach (except the Fenny Bentley example before quoted)
to a rood-loft survives at Wingerworth, a structure in some respects
unique, in Derbyshire at any rate. Of its peculiar character the
photograph conveys a better idea than any verbal description. I do not
think it can have been erected earlier than 1480, nor later than 1520.
Perhaps midway between the two, _i.e._, 1500, _circa_, is the most
correct date to assign to it.
On the left-hand side may be observed the doorway, twenty inches
wide, through which, pierced in the easternmost spandril of the north
arcade, a rood-stair, now consisting of seven steps, emerges on to the
platform itself. The head of this aperture consists of a stone lintel,
which, being cut on its under side into the form of an obtuse angle,
produces, roughly, the appearance of a four-centred arch. In the south
or left-hand jamb are still fastened two iron hangers for the door, now
no more, which opened navewards upon the loft.
In the early sixties of the nineteenth century, there remained on
the plaster of the east wall of the nave, above the ancient loft,
considerable traces of colour. In vivid contrast to this painted
background showed up the bare silhouettes of a large cross, and of an
upright figure on either side of it; thus marking clearly the place
where the great rood, with the Mary and John, had stood in former days.
At the present time nothing of these interesting relics is to be seen;
the interior of Wingerworth church having been freshly distempered over
with a smart coat of colour wash, while two immense hatchments, with
pompous black cloth surrounds, occupy the place sacred from of yore to
the memorial of mankind’s Redemption. What could be more unseemly than
selecting this one, of all sites in a church, for the parading of the
worldly distinctions of one’s family? Whether it is too late to save
the remains of the rood-painting by scraping off the distemper which
hides it, I cannot say; but there can be no question whatever but that
the profane hatchments ought to be taken down as quickly as possible,
and placed somewhere—anywhere—else than where I saw them in March,
1907.
The painting at Wingerworth is not the only instance of its kind known
to have survived in Derbyshire down to the nineteenth century. Thus
at Hayfield, according to a memorandum made on the spot by one of
the brothers Lysons, who visited the old church shortly before its
demolition in 1815, there was to be seen “at the back of the gallery,
facing the nave ... a painting of the Crucifixion, with St. John and
St. Peter ... said to have been painted (in) 1775, but probably from
an ancient one which had remained undisturbed at the time of the
Reformation.” That this work, for the figure of St. Peter to have
been substituted for that of the Blessed Virgin Mary, must have been
retouched by some post-Reformation hand, may readily be believed; but,
in the same connection, the question presents itself as to whether the
gallery noted by the famous topographer could by any manner of means
have been the ancient rood-loft at Hayfield church.
[Illustration: Wingerworth Church: Base of the Rood-Loft.]
But to return from speculation to facts and figures. The timber extant
of the rood-loft at Wingerworth reaches from side to side of the nave,
a length of 15 ft. 1 in. The distance from the floor of the nave to the
base of this structure (itself barely an inch above the crown of the
chancel arch) is 8 ft. 8½ in.; from the nave-floor to the platform at
the top of it, 11 ft. 8½ in.; giving it an elevation of exactly three
feet. The width of the platform from back to front is 38 inches. In
the upper surface of the breast-summer, or main beam of the westward
projection, are the remains of fourteen mortice holes (averaging 4
inches in length each, with a centring of 13½ inches), sunk to receive
the tenons of the upright stiles that framed the front of the loft
parapet, the height of which there is no present means of gauging. The
uppermost front edge is embattled. Below, in a cavetto, at intervals,
are nine square pateras of Gothic leaf ornament. The receding cove
beneath the breast-summer is divided by moulded ribs into eight panels,
the longitudinal ribs centred at 44 inches, and being crossed by a
single latitudinal rib, with carved square bosses and Gothic leaves
in the angles of intersection. This panelling occupies a superficial
breadth of 32 inches between the breast-summer above and the moulded
timber at the base.
The back of this structure fits close against the wall, and there
is not the slightest trace of any supporting screenwork ever having
touched, still less been attached to, its lower edge. I am disposed to
think that the arrangements at Wingerworth must have been analogous
to those of Sawley church, and that the solution of the problems they
both present is to be arrived at by a comparison of the existing
remains of rood-loft and screenwork in these several churches, the
one supplementing the details which lack in the other, for the
reconstruction of the original scheme. In both cases is a round-headed
arch—that at Wingerworth is not later than the beginning of the twelfth
century, while that at Sawley has been pronounced, on expert authority,
to have been erected still earlier, bearing as it does the evidences
of pre-Norman workmanship—an arch which, were it not for the impost
at the spring on either side, resembles more than anything else (with
its broad, flat soffit, no splays, no orders, no mouldings) a simple
aperture cut in the solid wall. The arch at Wingerworth has an opening
of 6 ft. 7 in. wide, or 7 ft. at the spring, by 8 ft. 8 in. (short
measure) from floor to crown; that at Sawley, 14 ft. 1 in. wide, its
height in proportion.
Now although at Wingerworth there is nothing of the sort remaining, at
Sawley, on the contrary, the original fittings of the chancel have,
fortunately, been preserved. These, comprising return stalls, with
the rood-screen behind them, stand complete _within_ the chancel. Nor
could the screen, so placed (because of the thickness of the wall,
interposing a bulk of 3 ft. 2 in. between chancel and nave), possibly
have formed one organic structure, with the rood-loft on the other
side, in the nave. I take it that in both cases the chancel was fully
and finally furnished with its stalls and screen at a time when
rood-lofts had not yet become a necessity—the fittings actually are of
a heavy and somewhat primitive type of Perpendicular—and that when,
later on, a rood-loft did require to be provided, circumstances left no
choice open but to treat it as something entirely independent of the
already erected screen. For to have set it up on the top of the latter,
on the chancel side of the arch, would have defeated the primary
object for which the rood-loft, as an adjunct to the performance of
public worship, existed. Without doubt the only place where it could
adequately fulfil the requirements of a rood-loft was against the east
wall of the nave, above the chancel arch. The length, then, of the
rood-loft at Sawley would be the same as the width of the nave, viz.,
26 ft. 3 in.
All this is no idle theory. It is confirmed by the existence, in Sawley
church, of a pair of stone corbels projecting from the masonry at the
east end of the nave above the chancel arch. The level of the corbel
in the north-east corner is 17 ft. 1 in. above the floor; that of the
opposite one in the south-east corner, 17 ft. 3 in. These would have
supported the ancient rood-beam, there being ample wall-surface at
the east end of the nave for the rood, as well as for the rood-loft
(containing, possibly, the “payre of orgyns” named in the inventory of
the sixth year of Edward VI.), to have been situated beneath, either
crossing the opening of, or (as at Wingerworth) crowning the summit of,
the chancel arch.
Neither are the above-named cases themselves without parallel. It is
recorded that there was in the nave (19 ft. 10 in. wide) of the old
church at Parwich (pulled down in 1872) a sort of rood-loft projection
similar in construction to that at Wingerworth, and that in the course
of demolition the ends of four stout, squared timbers were taken out of
the masonry about two feet above the crown of the Norman chancel-arch,
a low-pitched one like (although, being more richly ornamented, of
later date than) the Wingerworth example itself.
Owing to the scarcity of wills, churchwardens’ accounts, and such other
documents as might have thrown light on the subject, the exact date
of the introduction of the rood-loft cannot, in the case of the great
majority of churches in Derbyshire, be ascertained. At Elvaston church,
in 1474, the first Lord Mountjoy left instructions for the carrying out
of certain works, which would most likely have included the erection of
a rood-loft there, though the latter is not named in the bequest. In
fact, the earliest and only instance I know of in which the rood-loft
was explicitly provided for, is the will of Sir Henry Vernon, of
Haddon. The date of this document is 18th January, 1514, and the item
in point runs: “I bequethe to the churche of Bakewell and to makying of
the Rode lofte £6.” The will was proved on 5th May of the next year,
1515, not later than which date the testator’s wishes, so I assume,
would be carried into execution.
I have already indicated how the general absence of aisles from the
chancels of its churches drove chantry-founders in Derbyshire to
occupy the space of the nave or nave aisles. But, more than that, it
effectually checked the expansion of the rood-loft and screen, and
confined them within the nave’s width. For wherever the eastern wall of
an aisle, conterminous with the nave, is pierced by a window (instead
of by an arch leading into a chapel beyond), it does not admit of
either screen or loft being carried across it in continuation of the
screen and loft in the nave. The only sure sign of the alternative plan
having been adopted, _i.e._, of rood-loft having extended to the outer
wall of the aisle, would be a rood-entrance in that outer wall. But
such a sign I have not met with anywhere in Derbyshire. I searched for
it in Chesterfield church, the plan of which, so it seemed to me, might
have admitted the rood-loft being carried right across the building,
including the aisles; but in vain. I cannot point to a single instance
in a Derbyshire church of which it could be positively asserted that
the rood-loft extended beyond the limit of the width of the nave.
The usual place for the rood-loft door and staircase in this county
would appear to be either in the nave or in the inner corner of an
aisle immediately adjacent to the nave. Such approaches, or traces of
them, exist or are known to have existed at, among other churches,
those of Ashbourne, Ashover, Aston, Bakewell, Barrow-upon-Trent,
Breadsall, Chaddesden, Derby (old St. Michael’s), Kirk Langley,
Monyash, Repton, Spondon, Tideswell, Wilne, North Wingfield, and
Wingerworth. Nevertheless, as compared with other districts of
England, Derbyshire cannot be reckoned among those counties in which
rood-entrances and rood-stairs are of very common occurrence. However,
where either they do survive or traces of them occur, they afford
no exception to the normal dimensions of such structures. Indeed,
in Derbyshire there are to be found rood-entrances as narrow as, if
not even narrower than, anywhere else in the kingdom. Thus those at
Chaddesden and Wingerworth measure each only eighteen inches wide.
In some cases the ascent starts abruptly at a very awkward height from
the ground. For instance, at Ashover the lowest step of the rood-stair
is 6 feet above the floor level; 6 ft. 3 in. at Wingerworth. Nor
in either case is there any perceptible trace of the steps having
descended lower towards the ground. For them to be reached, then, where
they are, is a feat that could not be accomplished without the help of
a ladder. In the case of Wingerworth, however, it is true that, as to
whether the rood-stair originally terminated at its present distance
from the floor, there is, for the following reasons, much uncertainty.
The mother of one Arthur Mower, of Barlow, dying in 1574, and being
buried in Wingerworth church, her son wrote down minute particulars of
the site of her interment; and the old memorandum book, still extant,
records how she “lyeth in the church in the north alley at the head of
the alley on the north side, and her feet lieth as nigh of the north
side of the grysse” (_i.e._, stair, from the Latin _gressus_) “that
goeth up into the Rood-loft as may be.” Now nobody at the present day
who wanted to be accurate—and the sole _raison d’être_ of a memorandum
like this is to preserve and hand down as trustworthy a record as
possible—would dream of describing the feet of a body lying in the
north-east corner of the north aisle as being close to the ascent of
the rood-stair! To obviate the discrepancy, then, is one not forced
to the conclusion that the rood-stair must have been somehow or other
prolonged downwards in a northerly direction until it reached the
ground at the spot indicated?
Rood-stairs, being no longer required once the lofts had been
overthrown, have met with shameful neglect, often with violent
maltreatment. In some cases they have been allowed to survive only
through having been turned into cupboards for brooms and ladders, gas
meters, or water cisterns; but, nevertheless, after full allowance
is made for rood-stairs that formerly were and now have perished,
there is still left a large percentage of Derbyshire churches in
which no permanent stone stairs can be supposed to have existed. In
such cases, unless there was a fixed wooden staircase, access must
have been obtained by no better means than a ladder the whole way
from floor to loft. The practical inconvenience of this proceeding,
together with the narrow dimensions of rood-doors and stairs—while
their builders were constructing them, it would in most cases have been
just as easy to make them half a dozen or so inches wider had there
been any occasion—affords corroborative evidence of the impossibility
of parochial rood-lofts having been used, or designed to be used, for
ceremonial purposes by the officiants at divine service.
In Derbyshire, as elsewhere, ornamental treatment, either of rood-stair
entrance or of rood-door itself, is so abnormal as to call, wherever
such does occur, for notice. Ashbourne church may be said to furnish an
instance in point. There, in the southern transept, the south-east pier
of the central tower contains a staircase, which, though constructed
doubtless contemporaneously with the building of the tower itself,
and, therefore, anterior to the general introduction of rood-lofts,
would certainly have served to give access to the rood-loft as soon
as ever that adjunct was provided at Ashbourne church. The door, then
(see illustration), may not unjustly be ranked among rare examples of
ornamented rood-doors. Under a moulded label, terminating on the left
in a sculptured head that cannot strictly claim to be an authentic
product of the period, stands this handsome oak door of late thirteenth
century workmanship. It is divided vertically into two ogival-headed
panels, and is enriched with wrought-iron bands and hinges, in a very
fair state of preservation, although it is to be regretted that their
elegant contour is partly hidden by a clumsy modern timber lining
inserted into the masonry opening.
It cannot have escaped the notice of attentive observers how often
the steps of rood-stairs in parish churches have been trodden into
hollows, as though they had been subjected to much wear and tear.
Such must, indeed, have been very constant to have left its mark thus
pronouncedly upon rood-stairs, and that, too, in the comparatively
short period of their use—in many cases, of not above, perhaps, a
hundred years’ duration—between the date of their erection and of the
Reformation changes, which sent them back again into disuse. Some
other explanation, then, more convincing and more in accord with the
evidence of fact than the suggestion of a mere ceremonial function in
the rood-loft on special occasions, must be adduced to account for
the regular employment of the rood-stair. That the lay folk, being
many, rather than the officiant minister and his clerks, being few,
were they who trod the stairs leading into the parochial rood-loft,
is evident. The main function of the rood-loft in parish churches was
to accommodate singers, musicians, and their instruments. Again, it
should be borne in mind that very often (as churches, for example, like
Ashover, Old Brampton, Edensor, Staveley, Tideswell, and Wingerworth
attest) a sacring-bell hung in the eastern gable of the nave, or (as
in cruciform churches like that of Ashbourne) in the central tower, in
either event immediately above the rood-loft. Than the latter, then,
there was no better position that the sacrist could be placed in; the
rood-loft affording him an excellent vantage-ground from which to keep
an eye upon the movements of a priest saying mass at any altar in the
building, and to summon the people at the bidding of the bell when the
right moment came for them to raise their eyes and worship the uplifted
Host.
[Illustration: Ashbourne Church: Door leading to the Rood-Stair.]
Incidentally, again, the rood-loft would have been resorted to as a
convenient place from which to reach the rood for its veiling and
unveiling. And it must have been hither, also, that those whose office
it was to tend and light the beam-lights would have had frequent
occasion of coming.
But these are points which open up the subject of the rood itself,
and of the various devotions and customs that grew up around it in
pre-Reformation days.
The great crucifix, with the flanking statues which usually accompanied
it, would either rise from the rood-loft direct, being attached to the
top of the parapet, or, in the case of churches which were lofty enough
to admit of it and not to cramp the heads of the figures by the roof
descending too closely upon them, would be carried above the level of
the rood-loft upon a separate beam crossing the eastern extremity of
the nave—always provided that the essential condition was to impart
the utmost dignity to the rood itself, and to insure its becoming the
most conspicuous object in the whole building. Specific mention of a
rood having existed in mediæval days is forthcoming in the case of the
three monastic churches of Dale, Darley, and Repton, already named; in
the collegiate church of All Hallows, Derby; as also in the parochial
churches of Ashbourne, Bakewell, Breadsall, Chesterfield, Morley, and
Repton.
The figures, to wit, the Christ upon the Cross and the Mary and John
beside it, were usually sculptured and coloured, or, less commonly,
gilded; and sometimes even clothed also. The existence of the
last-named practice is attested in respect of images in general by a
long list of jewels and garments belonging to the statue of the Madonna
and Child in the Bridge Chapel at Derby, and by an item of “2 cootes of
ymagys of lynen cloth and 1 of sylke” at Kirk Ireton; and in respect
of roods in particular, by another item which occurs in the inventory
of the church goods at Ashbourne, drawn up by order in the first year
of Edward VI. The entry in point runs thus: “1 holde cote,” _i.e._,
one old coat, “for the roode.” This garment, being described as “old,”
would imply, not so much that the custom of employing such things had
declined, as that the particular coat in question had become worn
through long using. It is more than likely, indeed, that the rood’s
wardrobe had been replenished through the generosity of some devout
donor with fresh and costlier clothing when required, to take the
place of that which had become worn out—for it was very far from being
in accord with the spirit of our mediæval ancestors to offer to the
Lord and His service that which cost them nothing—but that it had been
forfeit already ere this time. It must be borne in mind that the best
of everything worth looting had been seized by Edward’s predecessor,
and that the catalogues of ecclesiastical ornaments and utensils,
drawn up officially in the boy-King’s reign, represent but the pitiful
remnants, of little value, left over because they had failed to tempt
the rapacity of Henry VIII. And yet, poor and insignificant as they
might be, they were not to be allowed to escape further diminution at
the hands of Edward VI.’s counsellors and ministers, men whose conduct
exhibits a peculiarly revolting blend of avarice and puritanism.
That these foregoing remarks are well-founded is illustrated by the
language of the inventories themselves, wherein frequently occur such
qualifying descriptions as “old,” “outworn,” “torn,” or “broken,”
whereas those items are rare to which the adjective “whole” is appended
for differentiating the good and complete state of such few articles as
happen to be above the average mediocrity of the greater number.
The great rood, as well as all images and pictures in churches, was
veiled throughout Passiontide until the latter end of Holy Week, as is
exemplified by the mention, in 1466, in a list of the ornaments then
belonging to All Hallows’, Derby, of a “grete clothe that coverethe the
Rode.” But an item in the inventory taken of the goods of Morley church
at the beginning of Edward VI.’s reign, viz., “a shete y^t hanged afor
y^e Rode,” would appear to have been rather a hanging for the front of
the rood-loft, in the presence of or at the foot of the rood itself.
Rood-lofts, as is known from other sources, were often covered with
“stayned” or painted hangings to enhance their ornamental qualities;
or, on the other hand, veiled in white shrouds, like the rood, in Lent,
in churches where the imagery and decoration upon the woodwork of the
loft itself was too gay and garnished in appearance to be consistent
with the solemnity of the penitential season. The past tense in the
case of the hanging at Morley church is evidence that the ancient use,
whichsoever alternative is referred to, had, by the date of the taking
of the inventory, been already discontinued.
In the parish church at Bakewell was an altar of the Holy Cross, “built
by the said cross,” situated, that is, near to the great rood, at the
eastern end of the south aisle of the building. And in connection with
this altar, in the reign of Edward III., a chantry was founded and
endowed by Sir Godfrey Foljambe, ratification of the same being granted
by royal letters patent in 1345. Further, the deed of confirmation by
the Dean and Chapter of Lichfield is extant, wherein are set forth in
detail the duties of the office of chaplain of the Holy Cross. From
this document it appears that the chantry priest, though celebrating
at the same altar, was to say a different votive mass on every day of
the week in specified rotation, the mass on Friday being always that
of the Holy Cross. Moreover, at every mass, after the _Confiteor_, he
was to turn to the people and say, in his mother tongue: “Pray ye for
the soul of Sir Godfrey Foljambe, and Anne, his wife, and his children,
and brothers of the guild of the Holy Cross, and all the faithful
deceased.” Again, a grant of the date 1405 exists, by which one Dom
John Chepe, chaplain of the chantry of the Holy Cross in Bakewell,
makes over in reversion certain landed property to the service of the
said chantry for ever. Another document, of the year 1535, incidentally
makes mention of “the burgage of the Holy Cross,” by which is to be
understood a piece of land, probably with house property upon it, lying
within the bounds of the town, and forming part of the endowments
either of the chantry or the guild of that title. The last incumbent of
this chantry was William Oldeffeld. On its dissolution, as the pension
roll of 30th October, 1552, shows, he was allowed an annuity of £6 in
lieu of his former stipend; while William Hole, chantry priest of the
holy rood at Wirksworth, is known, from Cardinal Pole’s pension roll,
to have been granted £5 per annum. The “rode chauntrye” at Wirksworth
was founded, in his lifetime, by Sir Henry Vernon, the same whose will,
as already recorded, contained a bequest for the rood-loft at Bakewell.
In Ashbourne church, until the middle of the sixteenth century
(as scheduled in the chantry roll drawn up for the purposes of
confiscation shortly after the accession of Edward VI.), there stood
near the nave, at the foot of the rood-screen, or as near unto as
might be, in the south aisle, an altar dedicated to the Holy Cross;
to which was attached a chantry, founded in 1392 by the feofees of
Nicholas Kniveton, for the daily celebration of the Holy Sacrifice
in perpetuity. The deed of confirmation of the same by the Bishop,
Dean and Chapter of Lincoln, dated 1404, is extant; as well as an
indenture, dated 15th January in the seventh year of Henry VIII. on the
occasion of the appointment of a new chaplain. By this document the
incoming “rood-priest” covenants to take due care of, and not to waste
nor alienate, the chantry goods committed to his custody; the list
of which, set forth at length, comprises all the requisite ornaments
for the performance of divine service (including “two chests in ye
Roodequere” for the safekeeping of the aforesaid ornaments), and the
domestic furniture and utensils of the chaplain’s residence as well.
At the Reformation, the property and endowments were forfeited to
the Crown; but it is of interest to recall how long and in what wise
the memory of the institution has been kept alive by the people, for
in the ancient garden of the chaplain’s house is a well, which, down
to within the eighteenth century, used, by time-honoured custom, to
be “dressed” or garlanded with flowers every Ascension Day after a
special service in the church, and which, as lately as the last decade
of the nineteenth century, was known among the oldest inhabitants of
the place by the traditional name of “the rood-well.” For similar
reasons a certain parcel of meadow-land in Ashbourne, being another
piece of chantry property secularised, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth
was named “Lampholme”; while certain tenements, as appears from the
negotiations which preceded the endowing of the grammar school in 1585,
were termed “candle-rents.” Again, a curious illustration of analogous
tradition in another part of Derbyshire is furnished by a manuscript
commonplace-book which belonged to one Roger Columbell, of Darley Hall.
As he died in 1565, it cannot have been written later than in the early
years of Queen Elizabeth’s reign. The entry is to the effect that in
former days the custom prevailed of paying, at Easter, on every house
in a parish a duty of “1 fartheynge called a wax farthinge ... for
lyght of the alter.”
I have met with no earlier recorded example of a rood-light endowment
in Derbyshire than of that at Breadsall. Its charter is dated 1330, on
the Sunday after the Feast of the Purification of the Blessed Virgin
Mary. By this instrument one Geoffrey, “the Reve” (or steward), son
of Ranulph de Breydishale, gives and concedes half an acre of land
in Breadsall to the light of the Holy Cross in the church there, “in
pure and perpetual alms for ever, freely, quietly, well and in peace.”
The charter concludes with, “Warranty to the said light against all
people,” above the signatures of the witnesses.
Again, in a list of “serges” (wax candles; in French, _cierges_)
“holden up” (maintained) by the bounty of individuals or by the several
craft guilds connected with the church and parish of All Hallows,
Derby, it is recorded that, in 1484, five such lights had been provided
to burn before the rood. For it was not unusual for lay folk to band
themselves into a confraternity under the style of the Holy Cross,
among the chief duties undertaken by them being that of keeping up
the requisite light or lights to burn before the rood in their parish
church. Among their privileges, as in the above case of the chantry in
Bakewell church, would be that of being specially remembered whenever
the chaplain offered the Holy Sacrifice. Chesterfield had its guild of
the Holy Cross, for whose sodality meetings and offices was set apart,
with the same dedication, the east chapel of the north transept—the
very chapel now enclosed by the ancient rood-screen. There was a guild
of the rood at Repton also, towards whose funds, in the year 1520, one
William Bothe, of Barrow, bequeathed 10s. in his will.
The mediæval custom of burning lights before the rood, and other
images, too, was—if one may so express it—a definite and perfectly
natural reflex of the life and conditions of the time. Previously to
the closing decade of the fifteenth century, the vast continent of
America still remained the dreamland Atlantis it had been to Brendan
and Meldune; the Queens Consort of Spain decked themselves in the
gorgeous bravery of their jewels, and the questing dove fretted
unavailingly against restraining bars, until at length one devoted
woman, King Ferdinand’s wife, Isabella (the same were parents of our
Catherine of Aragon, and grandparents of our own Mary Tudor), offering
up her jewels in pawn, found the wherewithal to equip and send forth
the great navigator on his momentous voyage. Nor even then could it
be otherwise than that several generations must pass away before any
practical result of Columbus’s discovery could affect the great mass
of the European population, and before cane-sugar could supersede the
old-fashioned use of honey for sweetening purposes. Meanwhile, in
Derbyshire, as elsewhere, the ancient traditions lingered long; and
year by year, when the warm weather came on, the bee-keeper of the
Peak would carry his skeps, or wheel them in a hand-barrow (choosing,
if he were a prudent man, the night hours for the transit), out on
to the moors. And there, amid the wild thyme and heather, he would
set the bees down, and leave them all the summer through to gather in
their store as long as the flowers were in bloom, bringing them back
again into shelter at the first approach of winter. The honey, then
an indispensable commodity in every household, would be carefully
strained and separated from the comb; helping to pay landlord’s rent in
kind, while the wax would go in tithes and free-will offerings to the
service of the church. Such, then, since the devotional practices of
our pre-Reformation forefathers were not aloof from their social and
domestic life, but intimately interwoven and bound up with it, not out
of joint nor harmony, but dovetailing and accordant the one with the
other; such is the economic connection between votive candle-burning
and the industry of bee-culture.
The large share of importance attached to bees, and the widespread
extent of the habit of bee-keeping in former times, has left its
mark upon the face of the country in many a popular place-name and
field-name, whose significance is not perhaps generally appreciated
by others than students of folklore and archæology. Mr. Sydney
Oldall Addy, in his learned work on Hallamshire, entitled _The
Hall of Waltheof_ (1893), enumerates the following instances in
Derbyshire:—_Honey_ Spots, a field of two acres between Hope and
_Pin_dale; _Bean_ Yard, at Ashover; _Poin_ton Cross, at Hucklow;
_Poyn_ton Wood, just outside Dore; and several fields bearing the name
of _Pitcher_ Croft in the immediate neighbourhood; and he shows how
every one of the words, or roots of words, italicised, in some way
or another preserves a directly etymological allusion to the bees or
beehives having been kept from of old in the locality so named. If
Beeley, Beelow, and Beeholme are doubtful instances in point, as being
capable of another interpretation, it is perhaps not wholly unfeasible
that the received derivation of Bentley from Benets’ _lag_, or meadow,
may have to be amended to bee-field.
But be that as it may, the olden system, in the tangible form of
payments reckoned in honey and wax (itself a computation dating from
at least as far back as the _Domesday Book_, in which two Derbyshire
manors, those of Darley and Parwich, to wit, are valued at so much
current coin of the realm and so many sextaries of honey apiece),
endured without a break all through the catastrophe of the Reformation,
and afterwards almost down to our own times. Thus, in the parish of
Hope, part of the small tithes pertaining to the vicar were paid in
honey and wax. As far back as 1254, tithes of honey formed part of the
emolument of the Vicar of Tideswell. In fact, in the Peak district
generally, it was customary for every tenth swarm of bees to be claimed
by the parson of the parish, a right which continued to be acknowledged
until nearly as late as the middle of the eighteenth century. Thus in
1743, the then Vicar of Castleton records in his journal the receipt
of a swarm of bees by way of tithe. Elsewhere, though actual payment
in kind had become obsolete, a small fixed duty, payable to the parson
in money, long survived. In some parishes, in addition to the ordinary
tithes, Easter dues upon various kinds of stock and produce were
chargeable, under which head the assessment of bee-keepers was fixed
at 2d. per head. In the parish of Twyford, as the _Terrier_ shows, the
like sum was claimed “for every hive of bees in lieu of tithe-honey
and wax”—a claim which did not cease to be recognised until the
nineteenth century, when, in a general re-adjustment and commutation,
it was abolished. So the last lingering tradition of the old order was
changed, and finally perished.
And here is the place to speak of the fate of the rood and of its
accessory loft. Now, although the destruction of rood-lofts, screens
and roods, in so far as they were involved in the destruction of the
monasteries themselves, may be said to have begun under Henry VIII. in
1536, being followed, two years after, _i.e._, in 1538, by the order
for the demolition of all roods and images alleged to be abused by
superstitious devotions and offerings—the diversion of the latter into
the hands of the King and his myrmidons being, of course, the real
motive of the attack—the general and systematic destruction of roods
did not take place until Edward VI. came to the throne, nor that of
rood-lofts until nearly the end of the third year of Queen Elizabeth.
The precise date of the order is 10th October, 1561. It decreed that
rood-lofts should be taken down in every church and chapel in the land.
It is essential, however, to note that at the same time that rood-lofts
were abolished, the partition of the chancel—such was the term then
used for the rood-screen—was expressly and emphatically ordered to be
maintained. It is a noteworthy fact, also, that in the set of articles
put forth for Archbishop Parker’s first metropolitical visitation
(that of 1560–1), which included the county of Derbyshire as part of
the diocese of Coventry and Lichfield, no reference whatever is made
either to roods or rood-lofts. Meanwhile, however, the order of 1561
was promulgated, and Parker then entered upon the campaign in earnest.
His visitation articles of 1563 contain the inquiry: “Whether your
rood-lofts be pulled down according to order prescribed, and if the
partition between the chancel and church [_i.e._, nave] be kept?” The
same question would naturally go the round of the southern province,
within which, as is well known, Derbyshire lies. In 1565, then, when
Bentham made a visitation of the county, among the instructions issued
for the occasion is found the following:—“That you do take down your
rood-lofts unto the lower beams, and do set a comely crest or vault
upon it, according to the Queen’s Majesty’s Injunctions set forth for
the same.” This shows that Derbyshire enjoyed no exemption from the
general order already mentioned. Two years later, _i.e._, in 1567,
Parker, in his metropolitical visitation, reiterated his previous order
of 1563; evidence as to the standard that was required throughout the
country. Nor did his successor, Edmund Grindall, fail to follow his
example. In the new archbishop’s articles to be inquired of within the
province of Canterbury in the metropolitical visitation of 1576, the
question is asked: “Whether your rood-lofts be taken down and altered,
so that the upper parts thereof with the soller or loft be quite taken
down unto the cross beam” (this, of course, means not the rood-beam
but the transverse beam or breast-summer), “and that the said beam
have some convenient crest put upon the same?” Later on, when, in
1584, Overton visited the Lichfield diocese, he inquired, among other
points: “Whether your rood-lofts be clean defaced and taken away?” It
is unnecessary to pursue this phase of the subject any further; but it
is scarcely to be wondered at if, from such persistent and accumulated
hostility on the part of the authorities, as I have retailed, no
Derbyshire rood-loft has survived to this day in its complete and
original state.
According to an inventory of the year 1527, there were in All Hallows
church, Derby, a “pair” of great organs, and another small “pair”
beside. Further entries, occurring both under the dates 1569–70 and
1582–3, mention the existence of the leaden weights “which lay upon
the organs” to compress the bellows. Whence it has been inferred that
because the almost invariable place for the organ in pre-Reformation
times was the rood-loft, therefore the latter structure was still
standing in the church down to 1583. But surely the evidence on the
point is negative, and far too slight to warrant any such conclusion!
For the documents which speak of the organs are altogether silent as to
their whereabouts in the building; and even though they may have been
situated originally on the top of the rood-loft in All Saints, in the
face of the notorious fact that rood-lofts throughout the country had
been condemned twelve years previously, the bare mention of an organ
outliving the general wrecking of the rood-loft (which, indeed, it was
fully entitled to do, from the legal point of view) cannot be taken for
proof of the law in force against rood-lofts having been disregarded in
this or in any individual instance, unless there be produced some more
direct and explicit testimony to the contrary.
If Dr. Pegge is to be credited, the rood-loft was still standing in
Chesterfield church in 1783. At Staveley, it is recorded to have
stood until 1790. At Hayfield, until about 1815, it remained entire,
according to the Lysons; and according to the same authority’s
manuscript notes at the British Museum, though the fact is not recorded
in their published history of the county, the rood-loft still survived
at Taddington in or about the year 1812. Possibly, also, at Tideswell
the rood-loft, although transferred to the west end of the church,
remained until as lately as about 1820. Beside these, there are no
authenticated instances of the survival of the ancient rood-loft in
Derbyshire after the date of the general destruction.
This measure was as arbitrary as also it proved, within no great space
of time after, to have been shortsighted. It was arbitrary because,
considering the circumstances at the date of the decree being issued,
it was uncalled for and unwarrantable, once roods themselves had
ceased to be. For the ruin of roods accomplished under King Edward
had been so immense, that their restoration in the short space of
Mary’s reign could not but be partial; and already Elizabeth’s puritan
friends, acting upon her injunctions of 1559 against “monuments of
superstition,” had hastened to destroy as many images as were found
standing at the date of her accession—and that, one may be sure, with
the greater energy and thoroughness, since the Queen herself was
really suspected at first of being unsound in this very matter of the
crucifix. The order of 1561 was unreasonable, therefore, because every
one of those customs, such as the burning of lights before the rood,
or hanging up festal branches and garlands about it, clothing it with
holiday robes or Lenten wrappings, the ceremonial stations at its feet,
accompanied by sprinkling with holy water or by censings—these and,
in fine, whatsoever other observances in olden days had had the rood
for centre and object, were necessarily quashed and rendered no longer
practicable thenceforward, the rood itself having been abolished.
That the order was shortsighted, too, is patent from the fact that in
consequence of it there sprang up a fresh crop of difficulties, which
have never been satisfactorily settled nor disposed of to this day. I
refer, of course, to the question of organs and choristers, and of the
most convenient and suitable positions for them relatively to occupy
in a church. The rood itself had indeed vanished, but with it not all
the functions and uses of the rood-loft. That the latter had, from a
practical point of view, enormous advantages, is a fact which, lost
sight of at the time amid the frenzy of bigotry, which insisted on its
being condemned to destruction, very quickly began to be appreciated
after that the ancient rood-loft was no more.
It is a highly instructive object-lesson, and one not unprofitable
eke for our own times, to note what ensued; nor can I, with the facts
of the case before me, impugn the logic of the extreme reformers, who
were so ill-content with the disappearance of the rood-loft that they
never ceased to agitate for the prohibition of church organs as well.
This, then, happened. The opponents of instrumental music in divine
service were not allowed to have their will; and yet the retention of
an organ after the organ-platform, the rood-loft, to wit, had been
done away with, was very quickly found to be unworkable, unless some
other provision were made for it and for the singers, whose voices
the organ was meant to accompany. The removal of the rood-loft at the
east end of the nave, therefore, was inevitably followed, sooner or
later, by the erection of a gallery at the opposite end of the nave.
In some instances, indeed, portions of the old rood-loft were actually
re-erected, being incorporated in a new organ-gallery at the west end
of the church. Thus, at Parwich, when, in the last quarter of the
nineteenth century, the old west gallery came to be taken down, the
main beam of it was found to have a carefully chamfered edge and to
have been enriched with painting and gilding, thus proving beyond all
question that it must have formed one of the timbers of the ancient
rood-loft, if not the original rood-beam itself.
Scarcely more than fifty years had elapsed since the demolition of
rood-lofts had been ordained before a gallery was erected at the west
end of All Hallows, Derby, and, what is more remarkable, in 1636
another, upon which the term, not void of significance, “loft” actually
occurred in the inscription to commemorate the donor’s name and
benefaction. Nor was this the only example on record. Another inscribed
“loft” was erected at the west end of Heanor church in 1633, and
another at Osmaston in 1747, while several more, though not explicitly
so inscribed, were, as contemporary evidence proves, referred to at the
time as “lofts.” Of these, the gallery at Ashover (1722), at Bakewell
(1751), and at Stanley (1765) are examples. At Marston-on-Dove, in
1712, the parish agreed to erect a “loft,” as the recorded proposal for
the scheme shows, “for ye schoolmaster of Hilton and his scholars and
ye singers to sitt in.” At Hayfield, as shown in a plan of the seating
accommodation and scale of charges for the same, under the date 1741,
“every singer upon ye organ loft” paid the modest sum of 4d. a year by
way of pew-rent. Again, at Hayfield a new “loft” was set up at the west
end of the building in 1746.
If the Osmaston example carries the tradition of the “loft” forward
as far as 1747, on the other hand the Heanor example affords a most
valuable link with the remoter past by carrying back the tradition to
the period of the pre-Reformation rood-loft. Standing until within
living memory, it bore the inscription: “This loft was built at ye
sole cost of John Clarke, of Codnor, gent., in the year 1633, who dyed
An^o. Dn^i. 1641, et Anno Ætatis 88”; on the face of it a dry and
prosaic statement of fact, but yet to all who can read between the
lines, how eloquent a tale of the times does it unfold, for this man,
who at eighty set up a singers’ gallery or loft in his parish church,
would be a child of about eight years of age at the date when the royal
decree went forth for the general destruction of rood-lofts.
If the coincidence is the more striking in the case of galleries
erected at the east end of the nave, exactly on the site of the ancient
rood-loft, as at Chesterfield and the neighbouring village of Old
Brampton, at Eyam, Mellor, and Tideswell, it must be admitted that the
west end of the nave was the more usually selected position. Western
galleries are known to have been in use in the nineteenth century in
the following churches, amongst others: Allestree, Ashbourne, Beighton,
Brailsford, All Saints’ new church in Derby, Duffield, Eckington,
Etwall, Killamarsh, Kirk Ireton, Long Eaton, Mackworth, Marston
Montgomery, Matlock, Morley, Mugginton, North Wingfield, Parwich
(old church), Smalley, Spondon, Stanley, Taddington, Tickenhall (old
church), Wilne, and Wingerworth. Although at the last-named the base
of the rood-loft remains, the destruction of the parapet had made it
unsafe for use, and necessitated the erection of the newer gallery.
The above list might be very much extended, but there is no need to
multiply instances.
The renewal of the west gallery at Tideswell church in 1824, and the
erection of that at Sawley in 1838, or that at Beeston as late as
1840 (only, however, to be restored away again in 1871), brings the
tradition of building organ-galleries down almost to the middle of
the nineteenth century. Some, indeed, among those named in the above
list continued in position as late as the seventies of the nineteenth
century, that at Ashbourne even until 1882.
Between the earliest recorded instance of a gallery being built, in
1614, to the latest, in 1840, represents a lively stream of tradition,
uninterrupted for just 220 years, until the influence of the Tractarian
movement set the tide flowing in the contrary direction, and eventually
succeeded in compassing the doom of the old-fashioned organ-gallery
altogether. The responsibility rests not with Puritans, but with the
opposite party in the Church of England; and it is a sad, if edifying,
commentary on the fallibility of human judgment that, at the very time
when Holman Hunt was painting his mystical pre-Raphaelite picture of
“Christ wounded in the House of His Friends,” the Tractarians—they,
of all people!—were busy, from one end of England to the other,
obliterating the last historic vestiges of the ancient rood-loft in
our churches. If only these well-meaning men (and many others like
them, down to the present time) had been content to restore literally
rather than ostensibly; if, instead of introducing surpliced choirs
into parochial churches where such a thing had never been known before
in the whole course of their history; if, instead of dragging down
the organ from its antique gallery where they found it into the main
body of the building, and thereby displacing table-tombs and other
memorials of the faithful departed; shutting out the glorious light of
windows (as at Ashover), hiding their exquisite tracery, or, worse,
positively thrusting out windows and overthrowing walls, and erecting
externally (as at Ashover, Bolsover, Langwith, Littleover, Mackworth,
South Normanton, and Spondon) counterfeit Gothic organ-chambers
to accommodate this huge and vehement obstruction; if, instead of
perpetrating all these innovations and disfigurements, they had simply
been content to follow loyally the precedent of their forefathers, and
had relegated organs and singers together to a gallery situated in
the ancient place for them, viz., over the entrance to the chancel,
how much heart-burning and division might have been avoided; how many
a venerable church fabric, now irretrievably ruined in contour and
proportions, might have been saved from injury, and have retained both
in the original form in which they had come down to modern days, intact!
That which follows consists of additional particulars concerning the
present subject, arranged, in alphabetical order, under the names of
the various localities.
Alkmonton.—At this place, a township of Longford, was a hospital
dedicated under the invocation of St. Leonard. Lord Mountjoy endowed it
by will in 1474, at the same time directing that a quire and parclose
screen should be erected in the chapel attached to the hospital. The
institution was suppressed at the Reformation, and no remains whatever
of the chapel and its screenwork survive.
Allestree.—The church was entirely rebuilt in 1866–7. The length of the
ancient rood-loft, assuming that it did not exceed the width of the
nave, would have been 19 ft. 3 in., the dimensions of the old church.
For stone screenwork, supposed to have belonged to Allestree church,
see _supra_.
Ashbourne.—The eastern aisle of the north transept is screened off from
the rest of the transept and from the chancel, to form the Cockayne
chapel. The screen, which runs from north to south, is divided by a
column into two sections. The northern section is 14 ft. 3 in. long,
and comprises eight compartments, including the entrance; the southern
section is 14 ft. 8½ in. long, and comprises nine compartments. The
section of the parclose which runs from west to east is 19 ft. long,
and comprises eleven and a half compartments, including the gates,
which open into the chancel. The total height of the screen is 8 ft.
10 in., the compartments varying in centring from 1 ft. 6 in. to 1 ft.
10½ in. The tracery in the heads (rectagonal in formation) measures 13½
in. deep at the deepest. The openings in the north to south section
are 65 in. high, the lower part 3 ft. high; the openings in the west
to east section 68 in. high, the lower part 33 in. high. Immediately
below the rail, which is embattled, runs a horizontal panel of pierced
quatrefoil tracery to the depth of 8½ inches. The screen is surmounted
by a moulded cornice, with a cavetto, occupied at intervals by square
pateras. The muntins are buttressed. The whole is of Perpendicular
design of about the middle of the fifteenth century. Each compartment
of the openings is protected by an iron stanchion and saddlebar; the
stanchions being obviously modern, with cast-iron fleur-de-lys finials.
The door which opens into the stair in the south-east pier of the
central tower is 1 ft. 7 in. wide by 5 ft 9 in. high to the crown of
its two centred arch. There is no sign of the door which opened into
the rood-loft, but the stair leads to a passage which runs round all
four sides of the tower at the crossing.
[Illustration: Ashover Church: Rood-Screen.]
Ashover.—The rood-screen stands in the hollow order of the chancel
arch, so that its westward face does not project beyond the level of
the east wall of the nave. The screen stands 10 ft. 3 in. high by 13
ft. 7 in. long. It consists of six bays, of which the two midmost
comprise the doorway, with an opening of 3 ft. 8 in. and a height of 6
ft. 11 in. to the crown of the depressed arch. The bays have an average
centring of 27½ inches, the fenestration being 5 ft. 5 in. high from
the cill to the crown of the arch, with tracery in the head to the
depth of 20½ inches, that is, 11 inches lower than the level of the
spring of the former vaulting. The cill is ornamented with flamboyant
geometrical tracery. The solid part from the top of the cill to the
ground is 3 ft. 6 in. high, with blind tracery to the depth of 8¾
inches in the head. The screen is without gates, and is surmounted by
an embattled cresting, beneath which is a band of pierced quatrefoil
ornament. Neither of these can be in its original position, the screen
having formerly been vaulted, although the whole of the groining ribs,
as well as the springing-caps and the bases, are now wanting. The
carved lintel over the doorway is crested along the top, the spandrils
being filled with Tudor roses. These, together with the four-centred
arches of the bays, point to a late phase of Perpendicular. The coat
of arms of Babington, impaling Fitzherbert, in the middle, being only
fastened on where the vaulting ought to be, affords in itself no
criterion as to the date; although the general style of the screen
is entirely consistent with the tradition that it was the gift of
Thomas Babington, who died in 1518. This screen originally was enriched
with painting and gilding, the last traces of which were egregiously
removed in 1843. This was the date, also, of the destruction of the
remains of the handsomely carved parclose-screenwork which surrounded
the Babington chantry in the easternmost bay of the south aisle. The
parclose had a door opening into the nave and another into the aisle;
and the coats of arms now attached to the rood-screen used to be
respectively over these two doorways. The Babington chantry was founded
in 1511, in which year the rood-screen and rood-loft are believed to
have been erected. The rood-stair was blocked up at the “restoration”
of 1843, but has since been reopened. What remains of it consists of
six stone steps, starting in the south-east corner of the north aisle,
and emerging through the easternmost spandril of the north arcade into
the nave at a height of 10 ft. 10 in. from the floor. The rood-door
opened naveward, two iron hangers still remaining in the south jamb of
the doorway, which is 18½ in. wide by 5 ft. 8½ in. high. The door-head
consists of a horizontal lintel. The rood-loft itself cannot have
extended beyond the width of the nave, a length of 20 feet. The rope of
the sacring-bell in the gable immediately above the loft is shown in
the photograph.
Bakewell.—A spiral staircase in the wall adjoining the north-east pier
of the central tower stood practically undisturbed until the rebuilding
of the piers in 1841. It was entered from the south-east corner of
the north transept, and would in all probability have served for the
rood-stair when the rood-loft came to be introduced. The oak parclose
which shuts off the east aisle of the south transept to form the Vernon
chapel, is divided by the columns of the arcade into three sections.
Each of these is 11 ft. 7 in. long by 8 ft. 5½ in. high (exclusive of
the modern cornice), and consists of eight rectagonal compartments
centring from 1 ft. 4¾ in. to 1 ft. 5½ in. The openings are 4 ft. 3½
in. high, with Early Perpendicular tracery in the heads to the depth of
1 ft. 0½ in. The cill of each compartment shows traces of having been
guarded by two stanchions, no longer existing. The lower part of the
screen is 4 feet high. The rail is carved with a wave pattern, with a
trefoiled circle in each trough and swell, and a band of quatrefoils
runs along the base. The upper half of the panels below the rail is
perforated with a pattern like a square-headed traceried window of the
period. The greater muntins have shafts, with polygonal bases. The
screen is left, in midland fashion, unfinished at the back. The two
midmost compartments of the southernmost section form the doors.
Belper.—In 1821 the chancel of St. John Baptist chapel was separated
from the nave “by a plain screen composed of small arches and round
columns of wood.” The screen itself eventually disappeared, but long
afterwards the marks remained in the walls showing where it had been
fixed.
Bolsover.—A new organ-chamber, built in 1878, was eloquently described
as having “dwarfed the old chancel and spoilt the north aspect of the
church.” The ruin which the “restoration” of the above year began, an
accidental fire in 1897 completed.
Brackenfield.—The rood-screen from the old, ruined chapel, built
in 1520–30, now stands in the modern church. It has suffered much,
not only from exposure to the weather in the interval between the
dismantling of the chapel and the transfer of the screen itself to
its present position at the west end of the new building, but also
from excessive repair (see illustration). The screen measures 16 ft.
9 in. long by 7 ft. 7 in. high. It is rectagonal in construction, and
consists of a central bay divided into two lights above the lintel
of the doorway; on either hand of the latter being two bays of three
lights each. The head of all the lights is occupied to the depth of
10½ in. by tracery of Decorated design, coarsely executed, with
heavy cusps and crockets. The openings of the bays are 4 ft. 5½ in.
high; the bays centring from 3 ft. to 3 ft. 2½ in. The lesser muntins
are arrested by the cill, the panels beneath which are wanting. The
cornice and principal muntins are rudely moulded. The door has a clear
opening of 3 ft. 1 in., and is 5 ft. 8 in. high to the crown of the
four-centred arch of the lintel. One of the spandrils of the latter is
carved with the arms of Willoughby and Beck impaled. From a drawing
which is hung up, _ad captandum vulgus_, inside the building, it
appears that a project is on foot to adapt this ancient screen to the
chancel entrance of the modern church. And, as though the unfortunate
screen had not suffered cruelly enough already, the scheme involves its
further dismemberment by cutting out the doorway in the centre, and
mounting it on the top of a fresh doorway as a scaffold for a novel and
Christless cross. It is earnestly to be hoped that those in power will
not have the money nor the unwisdom to inflict this last unwarrantable
indignity on the venerable screen of Brackenfield chapel.
[Illustration: Brackenfield: Detail of Oak Rood-Screen from Dismantled
Chapel.]
Breadsall.—In 1826 the rood-screen is known to have been standing in
its original place, defining the boundary of nave and chancel. It
was then much dilapidated, “the centre portions of the ornamental
work thereof being entirely gone.” It is not quite clear whether
by the parts referred to as missing, the entrance gates or the
traceried fenestration-heads are meant. At any rate, a drawing made
thirty years later, and published in the Anastatic Drawing Society’s
volume for 1856, howsoever inaccurate in detail, shows what had
then become of the remains of the rood-screen. Though much of the
delicate feathering is omitted from the pierced tracery ornament,
the main outline unmistakably identifies it as having been made
up into communion rails. And it is doubtless to this circumstance
that the beautiful details of the rood-screen, when once taken down
from its proper position, owe their preservation. Such as they were
represented in 1856, they remained at least as late as 1877, when the
church itself was “restored.” The removal, about the year 1360, of the
chancel arch, the structural demarcation between nave and chancel,
had rendered a rood-screen æsthetically indispensable. And so, when
this prominent ornament was broken up—some time between 1830 and
1840, more probably at the former date—it left a blank so unsightly
that at the “restoration” of 1877 a misdirected attempt to remedy the
defect was made by the insertion of a paltry, sham-Gothic arch. At
the same time the ancient levels of the building were falsified by
the improper raising of the chancel floor. In 1877, “many parts of
the base” of the ancient screen could “be detected in the pews of the
body of the church.” Subsequently, all these fragments were collected,
and, together with those portions of the screen that had been turned
into communion rails, carefully stored up with a view to ultimate
reconstruction. Meanwhile, however, a few strips of screen-tracery were
ill-advisedly worked up into a cornice round the brim of the present
pulpit, a situation for which, as anybody can see, they are in no
wise suited. The restoration of the screen itself was contemplated as
far back as 1877, but thirty years were destined to elapse before it
could be realised. The project had long been dear to the heart of Mr.
F. Walker Cox, though he did not live to see it fulfilled; and so,
when he died in 1905, it was decided to restore the rood-screen as a
suitable memorial to him. The work was completed by the end of July,
1907. In this case there were certain well-determined data to serve
as guides for the proposed reconstruction. The width of the nave, 23
feet, had only to be divided by the unit of the bays (the remaining
tracery of which demonstrated that the average centring was rather
less than 2 ft. 6 in.) to show that there should be ten bays in all;
while the tread of the topmost step of the rood-stair, which pierces
the arcade wall and opens southwards into the nave at a height of
13 ft. 0½ in. above the floor level, indicates the proper height of
the ancient rood-loft floor. Each bay is divided into two lights by
a central muntin. The tracery resembles Decorated design more than
Perpendicular, but certain very late details in the spandril of the
ancient gates, the design of which otherwise corresponds, preclude the
work from being dated earlier than the first quarter of the sixteenth
century. Of the twenty pieces of tracery in the fenestration-heads, ten
are original and untouched, five are old ones repaired, while five had
to be supplied altogether new; the necessary carved work being ably
done by Mr. H. W. Whitaker, son of the rector. There are two variations
in the tracery pattern which runs along the west side of the rail. The
heads of the rectagonal panels are filled with tracery to the depth of
6¾ inches.
[Illustration: Breadsall Church: Detail of Rood-Screen in Process of
Restoration.]
[Illustration: Breadsall Church: Showing the Remains of the Rood-Screen
in 1856.]
Chaddesden.—The church was “restored” in 1859, when, I presume, it was
that the rood-screen came to be surmounted by an embattled cornice. At
the recent “restoration,” by Mr. Bodley, the battlements were removed,
and the upper part of the screen finished more in accordance with the
original design, with vaulting, on the western front The authentic
portion of the screen is 9 ft. 11 in. high by 15 ft. 9 in. long. It
consists of eight bays, of which the two central ones go to form the
entrance, having an opening of 3 ft. 3½ in., the bays centring at 1
ft. 11½ in. The openings are 5 ft. 7½ in. high, with tracery in the
heads to a depth of 3 feet, _i.e._, 21 inches lower than the level
of the springing. The entrance has a semi-circular arch, cusped on
the under side. The bottom part of the screen is 4 ft. 3½ in. high,
with blind tracery in the panel heads to the depth of 12½ inches. On
the west side the principal muntins are buttressed, the buttresses
square in plan, with moulded bases; out of the top of the buttresses
rise boutel shafts, with polygonal and embattled caps, from which the
groined vaulting springs. The rood-screen stands at the entrance of the
chancel, and the rood-loft must have extended only from side to side of
the nave. The rood-stair entrance, now stopped and bricked up, is in
the north-east corner of the south aisle. The doorway is 18 in. wide
by 6 ft. 7 in. high from the floor to the crown of the arch, or obtuse
angle, which is cut in the underside of the lintel. The exit from the
stair on to the loft, though blocked, is traceable in the wall in the
easternmost spandril of the south arcade of the nave.
Chesterfield.—The rood-loft is recorded to have been extant as late
as the year 1783. There is not the slightest trace of a rood-stair
entrance visible. In 1841, Sir Stephen Glynne found the nave galleried
completely round, including the eastern part of it. “The gallery,” he
says, “at the eastern extremity contains the organ.... In the gallery
beneath the organ is incorporated a portion of wood screenwork of
rather elegant character,” all which goes to show that the rood-screen
stood at the western crossing, the arch there having a clear opening
of 14 ft. 2½ in. In 1843, the “restoration” of the church was begun;
and the building having first been thoroughly swept of its fittings,
Mr. Gilbert Scott (afterwards knighted) was then called in to do
the garnishing. “I found,” he writes in his _Recollections_, “the
rood-screen to have been pulled down and sold; but we protested, and
it was recovered.” In a footnote he adds, “There is no such screen now
in Chesterfield church.” In this, as happily the event proved, the
architect was mistaken, but his remark would seem to imply that Sir
Gilbert Scott himself is not to be held responsible for the rood-screen
being improperly re-erected in its present position between the north
transept and its eastern chapel. The screen is 14 ft. 6 in. long, and
consists of five bays, centring 2 ft. 10½ in., of which the middle bay,
having a clear opening of 2 ft. 5¼ in., comprises the doorway. It is
fitted with doors, but they are not original. Indeed, the screen as a
whole has been much renovated. The total height of it as it stands is
13 ft. 3½ in. down to the floor. The fenestration openings are 7 ft.
3 in. high, and the pierced tracery in the head extends to a depth of
21½ inches, and contains an embattled transom, which makes a horizontal
line right across the screen from side to side. At a distance of 1
ft. 11 in. below the base of the tracery a second transom intersects
the screen, not, however, continuously, on account of the doorway in
the middle. The bays, though fashioned in rectagonal compartments,
exhibit a pronouncedly arched formation, which suggests that they
should be vaulted. At the same time the spandrils are traceried and
cusped, a feature inconsistent with vaulting, and such, therefore, that
I am inclined to attribute to the meddling hand of the “restorer.”
It only remains to add that the principal muntins are buttressed
on the westward front, and that the tracery has the usual midland
characteristic of a flat surface at the back.
[Illustration: Chesterfield Church: Part of Parclose Screen in South
Transept.]
More complete than the above-named is the imposing parclose which
stands in the south transept, and, extending throughout the entire
length of the transept, divides it for the two chantry chapels to
eastwards. These chapels were dedicated to Our Lady and St George
respectively, while against the westward face of the screen stood the
altar of St Michael on the left, and that of St Mary Magdalene on the
right. The screen consists of ten bays, four-centred; the third bay
from either end forming a doorway to lead into the corresponding chapel
beyond it. The bays vary in centring from 3 ft 4½ in. to 4 ft. 1 in.
The upper part of the screen expands eastwards and westwards with
groined vaults (partly renovated, the interspaces traceried on the
west side but plain on the east) into a wide platform of from 5 to 6
feet from front to back, and such that was apparently never finished
with a loft. The elevation of the whole (exclusive of a stone plinth
of 4½ inches) is 15 feet in height. The fenestration is strikingly
lofty, the distance from the cill to the summit of the opening being
8 ft. 6 in., with tracery in the head to the depth of 26 inches. The
base of this tracery descends 10 inches below the level of the caps
and the springing of the vaults. The tracery itself is of handsome
Perpendicular design, and is enriched with tall, crocketed pinnacles
running up through the midst of the batement lights. The opening is
sub-divided horizontally, at a distance of 49 inches from the crown
of the arch, by a transom cusped and feathered on its under side. The
solid part of the screen is 4 ft. 7 in. high. The rail is carved with a
waving tracery pattern; the blind panelling is traceried in the head,
and has a band of quatrefoil ornament along the bottom. The principal
muntins are faced with clustered shafts. The more northern of the two
doorways, with Tudor roses in the spandrils and cinquefoil cusping on
the under side, is original, but the other doorway is an unsatisfactory
piece of patch work.
With regard to the third screen, Sir Gilbert Scott, in the above-quoted
_Recollections_, wrote: “There existed in the church, as I found it, a
curious and beautiful family pew and chapel, enclosed by screenwork,
to the west of one of the piers of the central tower. This was called
the Foljambe chapel, and was a beautiful work of Henry VIII.’s time.
What to do with it I did not know. It was right in the way of the
arrangements, and could not but have been removed. I at last determined
to use its screenwork to form a reredos.” Such is the “restorer’s”
frank and ingenuous confession of his wanton abuse of a grand,
historical monument. The remains of this chantry parclose (its openwork
still disfigured by metal panels painted with the Ten Commandments,
according to the fashion of the day, _circa_ 1843–5) were forced to
migrate once more in 1898, and now (March, 1907) stand against the
west wall of the south transept. The screenwork is rectagonal in plan.
As at present made up it is just under 22 feet long, and consists
of six compartments, centring from 3 ft. 6½ in. to 3 ft. 8 in., of
three lights each. The openings are 3 ft. 7 in. high, with stem-like
tracery in the head to the depth of 9½ inches. The upper part is coved,
projecting 35 inches from back to front. The total height from the
top of the cresting to the ground just exceeds eight feet. The solid
part below the openings has apparently been cut down, since it is only
2 ft. 11 in. high. The rail is carved with a band of quatrefoils and
trefoils in the alternate swell and trough of a wave line, and the
blind panelling is traceried in the head to the depth of 5 inches. The
cornice is elaborately carved with a grape and vine pattern on a wave
basis, with shields introduced; the band itself, however, absurdly
turned upside down. It displays the following seven distinct coats
of arms, which appear by themselves and in various combinations of
impalement:—
Ashton A mullet.
Breton A chevron between three escallops.
Bussex Barry of six (represented as seven).
Foljambe A bend between six escallops.
Leeke On a saltire (not represented, as it ought to be,
engrailed), nine annulets.
Loudham On a bend, five cross crosslets.
Nevile A saltire ermine.
That the screens now standing do not represent the full complement of
screenwork with which Chesterfield Church was enriched when the shock
of the Reformation fell upon it, is attested by additional fragments of
tracery, one of them let into the underpart of a communion table in the
south-east chapel, and more in a low rail about the site of the former
high altar.
Church Broughton.—In 1820, portions of the parcloses that used to
shut off the chantries or side altars at the end of the aisles still
existed; but in 1845–6 the church was “repaired,” with the usual result
that the screens were dismembered. Considerable remains, however, of
the oak tracery are embodied in a modern reredos behind the altar.
Crich.—The screen which is now in St. Peter’s, Derby, and which was
originally in Crich church, is constructed on a rectagonal principle,
that is to say, it was never vaulted. It consists of six compartments,
each having an average opening of 13 inches and an average centring of
1 ft. 5 in. The height of the fenestration from the cill to the top of
the opening is 58 inches, the head being occupied to the depth of 12½
inches by pierced tracery of Perpendicular design, with an embattled
transom intersecting it in a straight line from side to side. The
screen itself is divided into two halves, each 4 ft. 4 in. long, and
each having, immediately below the cill, a pierced panel of cusped
tracery of trellis-like design, 3 ft. 10 in. long by 6¾ in. high. For
the rest, seeing that the screen has been made up for its present
position, to give the dimensions of its total height and length would
only be to mislead.
Denby.—“A rudely carved screen between nave and chancel”—such was
the description given of it in 1825—was swept away in the atrocious
“restoration” of 1838.
Derby.—It is piteous to recall with what reckless devastation the
mediæval churches of the borough of Derby have been visited. The
fate of All Hallows’ has been already told. Another of the ancient
churches of the place, St. Alkmund’s, was destroyed in 1844. Its
former rood-loft, to judge from the ground plan of the building, must
have extended across the width of the nave only. It has been related
by those who knew the old church, that the tower, together with the
westernmost bay of either aisle of the nave, were divided by screening
from the remainder of the building. What these screens were like
records do not state, but it is probable enough that they may have been
made out of the remains of the rood-screen or parclose screenwork. St.
Michael’s Church, totally demolished in 1856–7, contained a carved
screen of Perpendicular workmanship. The rood-entrance and staircase
led up to the loft from the south aisle. At St. Peter’s tradition
tells that a parclose formerly separated the eastern portion of the
north aisle from the body of the church; and remnants of wooden screen
work were discovered under the flooring of the pews at the re-pewing
in 1859. The screen which now occupies the place of the original
rood-screen, belonging, as it did, to Crich church, has been already
described under that head.
Doveridge.—In 1877 it was observed that three pieces of carving known
to have come from hence, and suspected to have belonged to the former
screen here, were affixed to the chest in Sudbury church. These pieces
comprised the centrepiece on the front of the chest, and the ornaments
on the two sides of it.
Elvaston.—The drastic “restoration” of 1904, for all the unstinting
munificence of the vicar, Rev. C. Prodgers, who entrusted the work to
no less eminent an architect than Mr. Bodley, has swept away a number
of landmarks, the removal of which the antiquary must record only
with pain and sorrow. Beside the lengthening of the chancel by eleven
feet eastwards, and the abolition of the east window, a proceeding
alien to the traditions of an English parish church, the rood-screen
itself has been shifted and tampered with in a manner far from
conservative. Previously to the “restoration” the screen consisted of
eight bays (the two midmost bays comprising the doorway), and stood in
the recess of the chancel arch, into which space it exactly fitted.
In the course of the “restoration” the screen (found to have been
patched with common deal in many places, and the whole of it thickly
coated with brown paint) was taken to Cambridge to be pickled, and
to have the decayed and the deal portions replaced in oak. Thus far,
good. But returning renovated and lengthened by a fresh, narrow bay
of blind panelling at each end, so as to ruin its proportions, the
rood-screen, now too long for its former site, was erected anew in
a more westerly position against the east wall of the nave. It was,
moreover, provided with elaborate metal gates, which are too high to
give a satisfactory effect, inasmuch as they break the horizontal
line of the wooden rail to right and left. Another flagrant offence
is that the carved ornaments, integrally joined (as at Chaddesden) to
the east side of the entrance jambs of the screen to form the ends
of the return stalls, have been detached from their proper place and
egregiously misappropriated for the ends of new sedilia. Their sides
are richly panelled with Perpendicular tracery, in the top of which is
a human face, with the hair and beard treated like Gothic leafage. The
upper extremities of these stall-ends represent cherubim, below which
are large carved crockets, models for boldness of outline and vigorous
crispness of execution. The occurrence on the elbows respectively of
a lion and an antelope, chained and collared, both of them seated on
their haunches, confines the production of the work within determinate
historical limits. The lion has been described as “chained,” but
after examining it in search of the chain, I came to the conclusion
that the latter is merely a wavy lock of the lion’s mane. As to whether
there is a chain or not will probably always remain a moot question,
like the heads of the famous lions over the gate of Mycenæ. Assuming,
then, that this particular lion is chainless, it would stand either
for the lion of England or the white lion of the house of March; while
the antelope, gorged and chained, is the familiar cognisance of the
de Bohuns. These two together would be the heraldic supporters of
Edward IV. (1466–1483), and therefore bear out the presumption that
the rood-loft and screen were erected in his time by bequest of Lord
Mountjoy. This nobleman’s will, dated 1474, directs that the parish
church and chancel of Our Lady at Elvaston should be “made up and
finished completely” at the cost of his estate. The “chancel” referred
to can hardly be other than the enclosed chapel, now occupied by
the Earl of Harrington’s family pew, in the south aisle. As long as
the stall ends remained in their original situation attached to the
rood-screen, the heraldry they display afforded a valuable clue to the
date of its execution. But their dislocation and perversion amounts
to the falsification of a historical document. For who that in years
to come shall see them as at present made up into sham sedilia, will
ever be able to identify them for what they truly are? The harm,
done, however, is happily not irremediable, for the stall ends can
yet be restored to their rightful place. To do so without delay is no
more than an act of justice due to the past and the present, as also
to future generations. The dimensions of the Elvaston rood-screen
(exclusive of the modern accretions) are: height, 10 ft. 7 in., and
length, 16 ft. 4 in. The bays centre at two feet, the doorway having
a clear opening of 3 ft. 8 in., with a height of 8 ft. 3 in. from
the floor level to the crown of the door-head arch. The latter is
segmental, and on the under side feathered with rose-tipped cusps.
The shield in the middle is modern, and so also (though doubtless
a reproduction of the old) is much of the encrusted ornament which
surmounts the door-head. The pattern of it is one of inter-twisted
stems, branching into crockets on the upper side. The fenestration on
either side of the doorway has a clear opening of 5 ft. 8½ in. high,
with tracery (forming the outline of an ogival arch) and encrusted
ornament in the heads to the depth of 35½ inches. An embattled transom
runs through the head of the side bays, but is arrested in the two bays
of the doorway. Beneath the fenestration the solid part of the screen
is 4 ft. 3 in. high; each bay with tracery in the head to the depth of
11½ inches. The whole screen is a magnificent specimen of Perpendicular
design. The parclose in the south aisle encloses the easternmost bay
of the nave arcade. It measures 17 feet long from east to west, and
then, turning at a right angle, with a length of 14 feet from north
to south, joins the south wall of the aisle. Its height, exclusive of
the stone platform on which it is mounted, is 8 ft. 10½ in. It has a
doorway of 2 ft. 1½ in. wide on the north, and one of 1 ft. 11½ in. on
the west. The bays or compartments vary from 18½ inches to 21 inches
wide. The height of the fenestration is 54½ inches, with tracery in
the heads to the depth of 25½ inches. The lower part of the screen
is 46 inches high, and it is pierced, parclose fashion, by a band of
pierced tracery, forming long panels 9½ inches high. For the rest, this
parclose is similar in design to the rood-screen, only that the main
shafts of the parclose are more handsomely treated with buttresses and
tall, graceful gables, terminating in crocketed pinnacles. The cavetto
of the lintel contains square Gothic pateras. Neither screen shows any
trace of colour. No rood-entrance nor stair remains, but from the plan
of the building it is evident that the former rood-loft could not have
exceeded in length the width of the nave.
[Illustration: Elvaston Church: Rood-Screen (restored).]
Fenny Bentley.—There is no structural division between nave and
chancel, and the rood-screen has been repeatedly shifted backwards
and forwards, but it is now standing approximately in its original
position. Injured, but surviving the many dangers and vicissitudes
through which it had to pass, it remained without repair until about
1848–50, when it underwent complete “restoration” (the vaulting being
practically all renewed), and that very creditably done for the time.
The screen is 18 ft 2 in. long by 9 ft. 4½ in. high. It consists of
eight bays (centring 2 ft. 3¼ in.), whereof the two midmost go to
make the doorway, which is 6 ft. 0¼ in. high to the crown of its
four-centred arch, with a clear opening of 4 ft. 1½ in., protected by
gates. The fenestration openings are four-centred, and measure 5 feet
high from crown to cill, with tracery in the heads to the depth of 1
ft. 8¾ in., nine inches below the level of the vault-springing. The
door-lintel has the left-hand spandril carved with a fox and a goose in
his mouth; the right-hand spandril with a Gothic flower, not a rose.
The lower part of the screen is 3 ft. high, the rail being ornamented
with geometrical tracery. The ridiculous travesty of metal stanchions
and saddle-bars, carried out in wood, ought to be got rid of as soon
as possible. They may not deceive at the present day, but the danger
is that the longer they are allowed to remain, the more they will tone
down until they have acquired that specious air of antiquity which may
enable them to pass for genuine, until some expert will detect the
fraud, and perhaps be provoked on their account to call in question
the authenticity of the whole screen into which they have become thus
unwarrantably intruders. There is no vaulting at the top of the screen
on the eastern side. The loft floor measures 57 inches from front
to back, exclusive of the modern cresting on the front. There is no
sign of any entrance to the rood-loft, but the stair was probably on
the north side, in the wall which has now been rebuilt and converted
into an arcade. The rood-screen exhibits a fully-matured phase of
Perpendicular. It has been variously dated from 1460 to 1500. One
local tradition declared it to have been erected by Thomas Beresford
(of Agincourt fame) as a thank-offering after the Wars of the Roses.
At any rate, it must have been already _in situ_ before 1512, when a
chantry was founded by James Beresford, LL.D., and there being no aisle
nor chapel to contain the altar, a parclose screen was erected round
it in the south-east corner of the nave. The enclosure had its own
flooring of encaustic tiles. Locally called “the cage,” it stood in
its original place untouched until 1877, when, in the same year of his
appointment to the rectory of Fenny Bentley, Rev. E. J. Hayton, with
the proverbial officiousness of a new broom, nimbly cleared it aside.
The only possible justification for this disturbance of a historic
landmark is that it enables the beautiful rood-screen to be seen to
greater advantage than it could have been while the other screen stood
in front of it. The exact place where the parclose abutted on to the
rood-screen is defined by a missing moulding and a light mark in the
wood of the lower part of the bay immediately to the south of the
entrance gates (see illustration). Subsequently the displaced parclose,
incorporated with much new work, was set up, in one continuous length,
between the modern north aisle of the nave and the modern north chapel.
It now measures 14 ft. 8 in. long by 6 ft. 8 in. high, and consists
of thirteen rectagonal compartments, with two different patterns of
tracery in the head; eight of one pattern and five of the other.
Hathersage.—A small piece of carved oak tracery of Perpendicular style,
being part of a screen originally in this church, was to be seen
subsequently among the objects in the Lomberdale House Museum.
Hault Hucknall.—In 1875 there were kept in the vestry two fragments
of oak tracery of Perpendicular design; placed, one upside down, with
their two lower edges contiguous, so that the arched forms were made
to appear like circles. They are thus depicted in the first volume
of Cox’s _Derbyshire Churches_. Beside these, in the eighties of
the nineteenth century, there were in the church tower several more
pieces of tracery and at least one long beam; all of them portions,
presumably, of former screenwork.
Hope.—The rood-screen, including its gates, complete, is surmised to
have remained standing through all the disasters of the civil wars—at
least until the closing days of Oliver Cromwell’s Protectorate—because
of an incidental reference under the date 1658. In a list of the
parochial Easter dues discharged in that year, occurs the item of a sum
received from young people “at the chancell gate.” This might, however,
have meant no more than the spot in the alley where chancel and nave
converge, since the common spelling of the word “gate” of the present
day was “yate” until the eighteenth century, the original sense of
“gate” being rather the equivalent of gangway, path, or thoroughfare.
At any rate, all that was left of the screen by 1881 was the oak beam
of the plinth or base, showing that there had been at that point one
step ascending from the nave into the chancel. This historical relic,
however, was not respected, for in 1881–2, the vicar, Rev. Henry
Buckston, following the example of Dr. Hutchinson, the bane of All
Hallows’, in obstinate defiance of remonstrances, subjected the old
chancel to the most drastic and unnecessary treatment.
Horsley.—In or about the year 1825 it was noted by Rev. R. R. Rawlins
that “a screen of rudely ornamented open-work surrounded a portion of
the north aisle.”
Kirk Langley.—There were originally three screens in this church,
namely, the rood-screen and two parcloses. All three of them have been
so repeatedly altered and mixed up that it is difficult to follow
their history with certain accuracy. The year of darkest tragedy in
the annals of the fabric was 1839, when a devastating “restoration”
ravaged the ancient wood-fittings. Hitherto the parclose-screen of the
Meynell chantry, standing at the eastern extremity of the north aisle,
and extending as far as the centre of the first arch, had remained;
but it was then removed, and certain portions of it made into a
reredos. These fragments, and whatever else could be found belonging
to the same parclose, were diligently gathered together by Rev. Frank
Meynell, and are now incorporated in a new parclose encompassing the
first bay of the north aisle. The cornice, much repaired, contains a
handsome border, 4¾ inches deep, of vine and grape ornament upon a wave
basis; and there are, in all, fourteen of the old panels, carefully
patched together and mounted on canvas backing to strengthen them.
They comprise seven (or, to count one slight variant as additional,
eight) distinct patterns of late Perpendicular in point of date, but
such that so far from being jaded or commonplace, give the lie to the
“correct” view of the decadence of later mediæval art, and testify
to the inexhaustible vitality and resourcefulness of Gothic fancy to
the end. The other parclose stood between the south aisle and the
south chapel, screening the Twyford chantry. In 1710 Bassano noted the
screen, with the arms of Twyford over its entrance doorway. By 1879
this parclose had been demolished, and parts of it made up with the
rood-screen, which yet stood _in situ_, presenting an incongruous blend
of Perpendicular and earlier woodwork. Even this, however, has since
given place to a brand-new screen, and whatever still remains of the
ancient screenwork is now embodied in the box-door in the west tower,
as above described. The abolished rood-loft must have been approached
from the south, for, although there are no longer any traces to be seen
of it, in 1879 it was noted that “the squint from the Twyford quire is
within the doorway of the old stairs leading to the rood-loft.”
[Illustration: Kirk Langley Church: Details from Parcloses of North and
South Aisles.]
Long Eaton.—“Within the chancel (now used as a vestry),” writes Rev.
Dr. Cox in 1879, “is a piece of old oak carving, which was found, in
1868, used as a joist under the floor. It looks as if it had been part
of the cornice of the rood-screen, and is carved with three four-leaved
flowers and two heads. Its date is _circa_ 1460.” This carving was
probably displaced and abused in the manner described, in 1731, when
the church is known to have undergone re-pewing and other “repairs.”
The ancient rood-loft extended from side to side of the nave, which is
20 ft. 6 in. wide—or rather it should be, if the whole building had not
been tampered with and falsified in 1868.
Longford.—The eastern extremity of both the aisles was formerly
partitioned off by carved oak parcloses to form chantry chapels, but
in 1826 both these screens were demolished. “From the east wall of
the nave, close to the north side of the chancel archway, projects” a
stone corbel, which must have had some connection with the ancient rood
arrangements, as a support either for the loft or the rood-beam.
Longstone.—“The east end of the south aisle is” [1877] “shut off by
an old oak screen, so as to form a family pew. It has a finely carved
cornice, and on the north side has the arms of Eyre impaling Stafford
... and over the door which forms the west entrance to the screen is
the well-known crest of the Eyre family—an armed leg.”
Mackworth.—Some old oak carving, portions, apparently, of ancient
screenwork, were made up into the wainscot at the back of a seat within
the porch. The ancient rood-loft may be assumed not to have exceeded
the width of the nave, _i.e._, 21 ft. 3 in.
Melbourne.—At the general restoration of the church in 1859–60, the
rood-screen was so unsparingly treated as to make it difficult to tell
what its original design could have been. It is 13 ft. 9 in. long,
and stands at the entrance of the chancel in the eastern crossing.
A drawing, published in the Anastatic Drawing Society’s volume for
1862, represents the church in the process of “restoration.” The
screen, as there depicted, though it cannot have been even then in
its original condition (having lost its vaulting, gates, and solid
part at the bottom), differs considerably from the screen in its
present state. It dated from the Perpendicular period, and consisted
(as in fact it does still) of three bays, the middle one, for the
entrance, being the largest. But the three main arches, which once
constituted its most prominent feature, have since been replaced by
obtuse chevrons, the ungainly massiveness of which is barely relieved
by the ill-designed tracery underneath, or by a recent attempt to
amend the bungling “restoration” of thirty years previously. It was in
1890, or thereabouts, that this unavailing re-restoration took place.
The fact is that nothing can be done with Sir Gilbert Scott’s clumsy
framework. To overlay it with applied ornament is only to emphasise
its defects. There is but one satisfactory remedy, and that is to
remove it altogether, and to replace it by something else fashioned on
the beautiful flowing lines of the old Gothic design. The upper part
contains eight pierced ornaments, 21½ inches in height from the crown
of the two-centred arch to the base of the tracery, and 15 inches in
width. Beyond these there is practically nothing of the original work
left in the whole screen, which not only gives a very poor idea of what
the majestic structure of the fifteenth century must have been, but
also is in every way unworthy of the grandeur of its surroundings.
Mickleover.—Rev. R. R. Rawlins, in 1825, described the entrance from
the nave as being “through a wooden arch,” near to which were the
remains of a piscina. Whether this wooden arch represents the ancient
rood-screen or not, it is impossible to tell. At any rate, the piscina
shows that an altar must anciently have stood against the front of the
screen.
Monyash.—Previously to the “restoration” of 1886–8, in the east wall of
the north transept, at a height of about twelve feet from the ground,
there projected a wide stone, which had served as the step of the
doorway that led on to the top of the rood-loft. The outline of the
doorway itself could be traced until the unhappy changes at the above
date caused it to disappear.
Morley.—This is one of the few Derbyshire instances of which the plan
might have admitted the ancient rood-loft being carried beyond the
width of the nave across the aisles to the outer walls of the church.
At any rate a piscina at the south-east corner of each aisle shows that
there must have been an altar at the end of both aisles, and would also
seem to imply that the aisles themselves were partitioned from the
eastern chapels beyond by screens in a line with the chancel screen. As
to the latter, the tradition in the parish in the time of Rev. S. Fox,
who died in 1870, was that the screen, “rather handsome but decayed,”
had stood in its place until within rather less than 50 or 60 years
of the above date, _i.e._, until as late, perhaps, as 1820, when, not
being thought well of by those in power at the time, it was taken down
and “sold to a farmer in the village for a guinea or so to serve for
a hen-roost or some such agricultural purpose.” However, according
to another account, the rood-screen disappeared when the church was
“repaired and beautified” in or about the year 1800.
Mugginton.—In addition to the parclose before-mentioned, “a good oak
screen of Perpendicular tracery,” it is written in Cox’s _Churches of
Derbyshire_, in 1877, “in fair preservation, with a door in the centre,
divides the” south “aisle from the chapel. Originally this screen has
been continued across the nave, so as to divide it from the chancel.
Part of the base of this screen can still be seen in the supports
of the pews; and a band of well-carved foliage round the pulpit has
probably formed part of the cornice.” It is believed that this screen
was broken up at the time of the ruthless “renovation,” _circa_ 1845.
Norbury.—The rood-screen had been fine, but was much mutilated in 1840,
according to Sir Stephen Glynne. This screen has since been cheaply and
very badly “restored.” It was originally vaulted, but is now made up
in a new framework of rectagonal form. The original portions consist
of the misused fenestration tracery. These number eight complete, and,
over the doorway, two incomplete pierced ornaments, 29 inches deep,
and averaging 19 inches wide. Upon some of them are traces of scarlet
colour. They are of Perpendicular workmanship, and are all plain and
smooth at the back. On the east side of the bottom part of the screen
are eight of the original panel-heads of blind tracery, 14¼ inches wide
by 10½ inches deep. There is no sign of the rood-stair. There being no
chancel arch, there must have been ample space for the display of the
rood on a beam across the chancel opening above the rood-loft, which
would have extended across the width of the nave, 19 ft. 6 in. The
eastern part of the chancel is panelled with oak, which might have come
from the former rood-loft. Along the top of this wainscot runs what
looks like a breast-summer, consisting of mouldings and a pierced band
of vine ornament, to the length altogether of somewhat over 25 feet.
The eastern end of the north aisle was formerly screened by a carved
oak parclose, which, however, disappeared in 1841.
Ockbrook.—The screen having been brought hither from Wigston Hospital,
Leicester, is not to be reckoned among the screens of Derbyshire.
Osmaston, a chapelry of Brailsford.—In 1834 it was noted that a small,
plain screen of wood stood between nave and chancel. The entire fabric,
however, was swept away in 1844–5, and rebuilt from the ground.
Radbourne.—A parclose, dating from the fifteenth century, if not
earlier, formerly screened in the eastern portion of the north aisle.
Repton.—In the parish church, “traces of the stairway to the rood-loft
across the chancel arch can still” (it was written in 1876) “be seen
in the north-east angle of the south aisle, and it is probable that
it was ... removed” in 1792, when the whole church underwent the
ordeal of “beautifying” in accordance with the degraded taste of the
period. It is, however, only just to the “restorers” of that date to
mention that they did abolish the cumbrous blank walls which they found
obstructing the openings between the aisles and the corresponding
eastern chapels—walls that had, at some previous era of barbarism,
been erected, there can be little doubt, in place of the original
carved wood parcloses. It is on record that remains of ecclesiastical
screenwork, with armorial devices, had become dispersed about the
place, and, falling into private hands, were worked up into panelling
for a dining-room, the wainscot of a summer-house, and other such-like
profane uses.
Sandiacre.—“Up to 1855” (the quotation is from Cox’s _Churches of
Derbyshire_), “there were some parts of the old rood-screen still
remaining across the chancel arch of Decorated date. Some of this
tracery has been used up in the reading-desk, and the pulpit has been
made to correspond.” The length of the vanished rood-loft cannot have
exceeded the width of the nave, namely, 22 ft. 9 in.
Sawley.—The oak rood-screen extends from side to side of the chancel,
18 ft. 5 in. Its height is 9 ft. 7 in. The heavy lintel is embattled
and moulded. The doorway is a plain, rectagonal opening of 3 ft. 5½
in. wide, and without gates. On either side of it are five rectagonal
compartments or lights, separated by muntins, and opening 51½
inches high, centred from 1 ft. 3 in. to 1 ft. 5½ in., with early
Perpendicular tracery in the heads to the depth of 11 inches, smooth
on the eastward surface. The solid part at the bottom consists of a
deep, moulded rail and, below, rectagonal panelling without tracery.
The westward face of each of the doorway jambs is buttressed, the
buttress having a square base. The joinery as a whole is so very coarse
and rude as to suggest the product of a rural workshop. The eastern
portion of each aisle was formerly screened from the rest of the church
by parcloses, which stood intact until 1838. The base of that section
of the southern parclose which ran from east to west between the aisle
and the nave, was removed on the plea of expediency not long ago by the
present rector, who broke it up and caused the soundest parts of it
to be turned into music desks for the choir boys in the chancel. The
only portions, therefore, that now remain are the lower halves of the
western section of either parclose running from north to south. That
in the north aisle (which enclosed the chantry of Our Lady) extends
over a length of 16 ft. 1½ in., with an interval of 2 ft. 8½ in. for
the entrance. It consists of five compartments, and stands 4 ft. 3½ in.
high, the buttressed muntins sawn off to the level of the fenestration
cill. Below the rail is a horizontal panel of pierced tracery, 7 inches
deep; and, below, panels with blind tracery in the heads to the depth
of 7½ inches. What is left of the parclose in the south aisle extends
over a length of 12 ft. 11 in., with an interval of 2 ft. 7¼ in. for
the entrance. It consists of eight rectagonal compartments, and stands
4 ft. 3 in. high, the buttressed muntins being likewise cut off to the
level of the cill. Both these parcloses are Perpendicular, and exhibit
a much more refined standard of execution than does the rood-screen.
Smalley.—The mediæval church was destroyed in 1722, but in 1855, on the
removal of the gallery in the modern building, there was discovered an
ancient beam “enriched with deep, hollow chamfers,” in which pateras
of Gothic leafage and other ornaments “were carved at intervals of
about eighteen inches.” It was apparently of about the date 1460. This
may have been only an unusually elaborate roof-principal; but, on the
other hand, it might have been the old rood-beam or one of the timbers
from the rood-loft or screen.
Spondon.—The rood-loft must have been of the same extent as the nave’s
width, 23 ft. 2 in. A disastrous “beautifying” process in 1826–7,
besides other irreparable damage, bodily removed the fifteenth century
oak rood-screen which stood across the chancel arch opening of 15 ft.
2½ in. At the same time the steps of the rood-stair were cut away to
make room for the flue-pipe of a stove. The entrance remains in the
south-east corner of the north aisle. The doorway is 2 feet wide, and
measures 6 ft. 10 in. in height to the apex of the depressed ogee of
the door-head.
Staveley.—In 1710, Francis Bassano noted at the east end of the
nave, above a family pew, “a large molding, being (the) upper beam
of ye rood-loft, and on (the) wood is cut ye paternal coat armour of
Frecheville (azure, a bend between six escallops, argent) held by an
angel on his breast.” Further details are contained in a letter, dated
October, 1816, which states that “the rood-loft at Staveley, which
remained pretty entire since the Reformation, was taken down about
twenty-five years ago”—which would have been _circa_ 1790—“to let more
light into the church.”
Sudbury.—Two fragments of carving, from the former rood-screen, were
described in 1877 as having then been recently affixed to the church
chest.
Tideswell.—In 1845, Sir Stephen Glynne noted that “between the nave
and chancel is a good wood screen of Perpendicular character.” It was
“repaired” in 1882–3, the chisellings in the responds of the chancel
arch furnishing the outline of the original form of the vanished
upper portion. The lower part has been declared to be almost as
ancient as the church itself; but for the rest, it has been so much
altered and renovated that it is doubtful whether the gates or any
considerable portion of the upper half of the screen as now existing
is really authentic. The slender build of the screen has led to the
supposition that it cannot have been designed at the outset to carry
a rood-loft. That such, however, was added subsequently is clear from
the existence of the rood-stair, which, though since removed, was
standing in 1824. Its site was the western side of the north corner of
the chancel arch. It must have been a structure unusually conspicuous
compared with others built for the same purpose. It was of stone, and
occupied a space six feet square. The entrance was from the south, and
gave access to a small newel staircase, the doorway measuring about 4
ft. 2 in. in height by 22 inches in width. Some remains of it, lying
in the vicarage garden, were identified by the late Rev. Prebendary
Andrew, and described by him in the fifth volume of the _Journal of
the Derbyshire Archæological Society_ (published in 1883). What the
ancient rood-loft was like is not recorded. In the year 1724 a faculty
was obtained by one Samuel Eccles to take down an old loft (whether
the mediæval rood-loft or not it is impossible to tell) then existing
over the chancel, and to transfer it to the tower for the use and
advantage of the singers; and at the same time to erect a loft for
his own use over the entry into the chancel. The transported loft is
believed to have occupied its western position until about 1820, when
it was removed altogether, a new gallery being erected in its room.
Beside the rood-screen itself, wooden parcloses must have divided the
chantry chapels in the transepts from the nave and from the rest of the
church. At any rate a quantity of pieces of ancient wood-carving were
to be seen loose about the church in 1824, and “cart loads” of them are
said to have been removed in 1825 on the occasion of the re-pewing of
the building. A subsequent vicar, Rev. Prebendary Andrew (1864–1900),
set to work to restore as much as he could. Some pieces of woodwork he
rescued from various misuses within the church, others from private
possession in the parish. A length of carving that had been cut in two
and turned into bookstands, as well as two fragments of screenwork,
open tracery of great delicacy and beauty, he set up in the Lady
Chapel; while a third piece of tracery-work he placed in the middle
compartment of the communion table. “The parclose of the De Bower
chapel has recently”—it was written in 1877—“been restored in exactly
the same position that it previously occupied.”
Weston-on-Trent.—Rev. Dr. Cox in 1879 remarked on “the north aisle
being screened off by a parclose from the rest of the church.” The
length of the ancient rood-loft must have been the same as the width of
the nave, 18 ft. 5 in.
Wilne.—The rood-screen which occupies the chancel arch is of simple
Perpendicular workmanship. It is 18 ft. 4 in. long by 7 ft. 9 in. high.
There are ten bays, five on either side, arched. The lintel is plain,
without any kind of ornamentation applied, and there are no gates. A
small stone staircase, now walled up, to southwards of the chancel
arch, commemorates the entrance into the ancient rood-loft.
Youlgreave.—The churchwardens’ accounts, though not dating back earlier
than the beginning of the sixteenth century, contain some interesting
particulars about the rood-screen. In 1604, “the chancel gates were
boarded over,” and later in the same year occurs an item “for making
the partition betwixt the church and the chancell.” In 1661, a small
sum was paid “for 3 hinges for ye chancell gates,” which is evidence
that the rood-screen, howsoever sadly disfigured, with its doors, was
yet in existence at the above date. “There is now”—it was written in
1877—“no screen across the chancel arch, though it is in contemplation
to replace one, modelled on the mutilated remains of the lower part of
the old one, of Perpendicular design, which were removed at the time of
the ‘restoration’ (of 1869–73, by Mr. R. Norman Shaw), but have been
carefully preserved.” At about the end of the eighteenth century, the
fine old parclose erected round the eastern part of the south aisle was
removed.
Finally, I desire, as in duty bound, to acknowledge my obligations to
the Rev. Dr. Cox, whose monumental work on _The Churches of Derbyshire_
has been of inestimable service to me; to various writers, from whom I
have borrowed, in _The Reliquary_ and in the _Journal of the Derbyshire
Archæological Society_; to Rev. W. W. M. Kennedy for important
particulars concerning diocesan visitations; to Arthur Cox, Esq., of
Spondon Hall, for valuable introductions; and, lastly, to all those
clergy who have kindly allowed me to take photographs and measurements
in the churches committed to their charge.
PLANS OF THE PEAK FOREST
By Rev. J. Charles Cox, LL.D., F.S.A.
Derbyshire is fortunate in possessing a considerable number of plans
of the great tract of the Forest of the Peak, one of which is of late
Elizabethan date, and most of the remainder of the days of Charles I.
They are in safe custody in that great national storehouse in Chancery
Lane termed the Public Record Office. So far as we are aware, they have
never hitherto attracted the attention of any students of Derbyshire
history, or of any topographical writers. At all events, nothing has
hitherto been printed about them, although in many ways they are of
superlative interest.
George, Earl of Shrewsbury, the Lord-Lieutenant of the county, so
celebrated in history as the custodian of Mary Queen of Scots, was
taken again into the favour of Queen Elizabeth in his old age in
1587; he died in 1590. Some time between these two dates the Earl was
permitted to purchase a portion of the Longdendale district of the
Peak Forest, which was formally disafforested for the purpose. In
connection with this purchase, a large quaint map of the whole of the
three great divisions of the forest was prepared, on which are marked
large parallelograms, painted vermilion, where there were pasturage
rights. On the Ashop and Edale section of the forest four contiguous
large patches of vermilion are shown; these are lettered “quenes
farmes in Ashop and Edall.” Immediately to the west of these is another
large parallelogram, divided into five by parallel lines, and by the
side of this is “Edall the Quenes ma^{tes} Farmes are devided into Fyve
vacaries.” To the north of these pasturage grounds there are large
uncoloured spaces marked “Greate Waste,” and the same term is repeated
on a smaller patch to the south-east.
The section on the north-west of this plan, termed Longdendale, has
“Greate Waste” marked in various places over by far the greater portion
of the area. There is, however, a small vermilion parallelogram between
the towns of Glossop and Hayfield, the herbage of which pertained to
the Earl of Shrewsbury. A larger space in this section of the forest is
marked “The Herbage of Chynley, otherwise called Maidstonfeld. Godfrey
Bradshawe and others farm’s thereof.”
The third or southern section of the forest, called the Champion
or Champayne, has fully half of its area coloured red in somewhat
irregular patches. The largest space in the centre is lettered “The
Severalles of the Champyon,” and within this is a smaller area termed
“The Inner Severalles.” Attached to the larger space at different
angles are other areas marked “Halsted Harbage,” “Grene,” “Ferfeld
Harbage,” “Tyddeswall Harbage,” and “The Herbage of Boughtedge,
Tenauntes and Fermers thereof, viz.: Thomas Lee, Henry Bagshawe, and
George Thornehill.” There are also two nearly adjacent small patches of
which the names are not clear.
It thus becomes evident that it was only the townships or hamlets of
the Champayne division of the forest which had any claim to general
pasturage rights.
The highly interesting feature of this late Elizabethan plan is the
series of little outline pictures illustrative of the buildings of the
chief places within the forest district. Each of these is here given in
exact outline after the original, except that there is a dash of colour
on the roofs of all the buildings, which throws them into better
relief. Interesting as these are from an art point of view, they have
to be accepted with some caution as accurate in a topographical sense.
It is not, for instance, possible to imagine but that the sketch of the
Peak Castle was somewhat imaginary; nor can the sketches of some of
the churches be made to fit with the extant fabrics. It should also be
remarked that this plan is a good deal blemished in places by having
been roughly divided into three parts, with the result that several
fragments are now missing, and the sketches of Castleton and Hayfield
are somewhat mutilated.[77]
[77] When the list of the Duchy of Lancaster Maps and Plans was
recently drawn up and printed at the Public Record Office, the fact
that these three portions belonged to the same map was not recognised;
they are to be found under the respective numbers 7, 37, and 44.
[Illustration: No. 1.]
The view of Glossop may certainly be taken to prove that the old town
had its houses arranged in irregular blocks round the large church
as a centre (1). The parish church of Glossop was completely rebuilt
between 1831 and 1853; it is not, therefore, possible to say how far
the outline in the map is accurate. It is, however, fair to assume,
with regard to the churches as well as the houses, that the artist made
some effort to represent the reality, or otherwise the series of little
pictures would hardly have had so great a variety.
With regard to Hayfield church, the like difficulty arises, for the
old building was demolished in 1836; and here again it is difficult to
believe that the delineator drew this form of a church out of his own
imagination (2). In this case a portion of the hamlet on the left-hand
side has been torn off.
[Illustration: No. 2.]
The third pictured town in this division is Mellor, and in this
instance, too, the church was entirely rebuilt at the beginning of
last century, save for the western tower (3). A proof is here afforded
of some measure of accuracy, for in this case the western tower is
represented in its right place, and not as rising from the centre of
the building, as shown in the cases of Glossop and Hayfield. There
are, also, traces at the top of Mellor tower of its having formerly
supported a small spire, as is here shown.
[Illustration: No. 3.]
In the second division of the forest, viz., that of Ashop and Edale,
there are two of these township pictures, viz., Castleton and Hope.
Castleton is, unfortunately, mutilated; the parts to the left hand
of the castle are missing. As to Peak Castle, it is fairly obvious
that some effort, however poor, has been made to reproduce the actual
buildings (4). The old Norman keep of the time of Henry II. is
evidently intended to be shown in the centre of the background. The
fore-part shows the later substantial enclosing of the inner bailey,
probably of Edwardian date, most of which has long ago disappeared.
Perhaps the most interesting detail of this, the oldest picture of
the celebrated fortress, is the building within the bailey which is
surmounted by a cross, and is, therefore, clearly a detached chapel.
There are two or three entries in the record history of the Peak Castle
which have not yet been made public, which refer to this chapel as in
use in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. As to the church in the
town below, it is difficult to offer any conjecture as to how the
drawing can coincide with the present remains of the ancient church.
The draftsman seems to have had very exaggerated ideas as to the size
of the south porch.
With regard to the picture of Hope, little more can be said than that
here again it is very difficult to fit in this outline drawing with the
fabric of the church as it now exists, except that the western tower
still bears a low broached spire (5).
[Illustration: No. 4.]
The third, or Champayne, division of the forest has pictures of four
towns, viz., those of Chapel-en-le-Frith, Fairfield, Wormhill, and
Tideswell.
The various buildings that are grouped round the large church of
Chapel-en-le-Frith are sufficient to show that this old market town was
a place of some importance (6). In this case the church was rebuilt
throughout in the early part of last century, and there is very little
of historical record or other remains to tell us anything as to its
original proportions. There is, however, one gruesome record which
apparently shows that its size was considerably greater than that of
its successor; for in 1648 fifteen hundred prisoners of the Scottish
army defeated at Preston were confined within its walls when being
marched to London. They were kept in the church for over a fortnight,
and it is not surprising to learn that upwards of fifty died within
its walls. The outline drawing seems to suggest that the church was
of cruciform shape, with a tower and spire in the centre. The only
indication of a window is the large circular one of the south transept
over the porch; it is exceedingly unlikely that the draftsman produced
such a window as this from his own imagination.
[Illustration: No. 5.]
The destruction of the old churches in the Peak district was sadly
extensive about a hundred years ago. Another of the victims of the
then prevalent idea of running up a snug, cheap building, when the
old fabric had got into a state of dilapidation, was the church of
Fairfield, near Buxton (7). It was rebuilt in the years 1838–9, and
very little is known as to its original condition.
Wormhill, again, suffered after a like fashion, though at a later date
(8). The present church was rebuilt in 1863–4.
Tideswell is, perhaps, the most puzzling of all these pictures. Those
who know the singularly fine church of fourteenth century date, with
large chancel, transepts, double-aisled nave, and western tower, will
find it impossible to reconcile the outlined drawing with the church as
it really exists (9).
[Illustration: No. 6.]
We now come to the consideration of a considerably later series of
maps, which are done roughly to scale, of various townships within the
Peak forest. Derbyshire is exceptionally fortunate in having such a
series of carefully-preserved early plans. A list of the records of the
Duchy of Lancaster preserved at the Public Record Office was printed
in 1901. One section of this list is headed, “Maps and Plans”; they
consist principally of those made in the elucidation of the claims of
parties in disputes pending in the Court of the Duchy Chamber. The
three to which we have just referred are of the end of Elizabeth’s
reign, but otherwise they are almost entirely of various seventeenth
century dates. There are 116 items calendared as maps and plans at the
Public Record Office, of which Derbyshire has a large share, viz., 32,
or more than a quarter of the whole number. The reason for the making
of all these Derbyshire plans, save the three already mentioned, was
the enclosing or disafforesting of the Peak.
[Illustration: No. 7.]
During the reign of Charles I. many unhappy efforts were made to raise
funds for the Crown by re-establishing the almost extinct forest
courts. This was chiefly the work of Noy, the King’s Attorney-General,
styled by Carlyle “that invincible heap of learned rubbish.”
The revival of these courts, with all their costly and obsolete
formalities, accompanied by the imposition of absurdly heavy fines,
created bitter resentment wherever it was carried out, as in Surrey,
Berkshire, and Oxfordshire, and was, beyond doubt, one of the causes
that led to the Commonwealth trouble. In other parts of England where
there were royal forests, after the reimposition of forest law had
been so strenuously resisted, another line of action was adopted.
Attempts were made, occasionally with success, to secure money for
the Crown by the enclosure of forests, the Crown claiming a half, or
thereabouts, of the land, and selling them as soon as a title was
gained. This action led to continuous disturbance in Duffield, in the
south of Derbyshire, where the resistance made to enclosure by the
commoners and tenants was eventually successful.
[Illustration: No. 8.]
In the Peak, however, the destruction done to the crops by the small
remnant of the once vast herds of red deer was so persistent that the
commoners and others were only too ready to assent to any just scheme
of disafforesting. In 1635, various of the landowners and commoners of
the Peak petitioned the King, complaining of the severity, trouble,
and rigour of the forest laws, and praying that the deer, which were
still in sufficient numbers to do no small damage to the crops within
the forest and its purlieus, might be destroyed, and asking to be
allowed to compound by enclosing and improving the same. Thereupon a
commission of enquiry was issued, and two juries were empanelled, with
surveyors to assist them. The first jury viewed the whole forest and
its purlieus, and presented that the King might improve and enclose
one moiety in consideration of his rights, and that the other moiety
should be enclosed by the tenants, commoners and freeholders. The
second jury was empanelled to specially consider the case of the towns
within the purlieus, and they presented that the King, in view of the
largeness of the commons belonging to the towns of Chelmorton, Flagg,
Taddington, and Priestcliffe, might reasonably have for improvement and
enclosure one-third, and the remaining two-thirds for the commoners
and freeholders. A like division was to be adopted in several parts
within the forest. After some delay the commons were measured, and
surveys made of the different townships, dividing the land into three
sorts—best, middle, and worst, and the King’s share in each was
staked, and maps showing the results were drafted. The surveys were
not completed until 1640, and when all the preliminaries had been
adjusted, the King caused all the deer to be destroyed or removed, and
from that date onwards red deer were unknown within the High Peak. The
extirpation of the deer was, however, almost immediately followed by
the beginning of those “troublous times” which preceded the outbreak of
the Civil War. The whole of the proceedings towards enclosure fell into
abeyance. Soon after the restoration of the monarchy, much discussion
arose as to the revival of these projects, but it was not until 1674
that the proposals for disafforesting the open or waste portions of
the Peak Forest, and enclosing the portions that were capable of
cultivation or good for pasture, were completed. The Commissioners
appointed for this purpose were Sir John Gell, Sir John Cassy, and
fifteen others, including such well-known Peak names as Bagshawe, Eyre,
and Shallcross. The third portion assigned absolutely to the Crown was
almost immediately granted by letters patent to Thomas Eyre, of Gray’s
Inn, who speedily entered upon and enclosed the same, notwithstanding
certain futile opposition in the duchy court.
[Illustration: No. 9.]
It must have been a great assistance to the labours of these
commissioners to find that the maps of the time of Charles I., showing
the exact measurements and the three sorts of land, were still extant.
These maps, though of rough execution, are of the highest interest.[78]
[78] The following are the Record Office numbers of the maps of Charles
I.’s time:—13, Taddington and Priestcliffe; 14, 17, 22, 72, Bowden
Middlecale, etc.; 15, Castleton Commons; 18, Wormhill Commons; 19 and
107, Bradwell; 20, Mellor Moor and Commons; 23 and 79, Bowden Chapel;
38, Fairfield; 39, Hope; 40, Monyash; 89, Flagg and Chelmorton. There
are also three of Charles II. date, viz.:—16, Hope, wastes and commons;
75, Taddington; and 83, Bowden Middlecale.
[Illustration: No. 10.]
There are small, rudely-drawn and occasionally coloured outlines of
churches and houses on most of these maps. They are of a decidedly
inferior character to those on the large Elizabethan survey, but they
are still of some value. We give here two facsimiles of drawings
of Mellor church, and one of Fairfield (10). Those of Mellor are
sufficient to show that there was an aisled nave and a lower chancel in
addition to the surviving western tower. The tower appears to have lost
its low spire between the days of Elizabeth and Charles I. The drawing
of Fairfield seems to give a certain rough idea of what the old church
was like.
Occasionally the drawings on these plans, to denote the situation
of the more important halls or manor houses, are sufficient to give
a crude notion of the actual building. This is rather specially
the case with the Ridge Hall; it was a chief seat of the prolific
Bagshawe family, on the higher slopes of the hills to the west of
Chapel-en-le-Frith, which we know they occupied as early as the reign
of Edward II. (11). This hall was rebuilt on a large gabled scale in
the later Tudor or Elizabethan days. The two drawings here reproduced
are from maps of the respective reigns of Charles I. and Charles II.;
in the latter case the artist has made some endeavour to represent the
trees by which the hall was surrounded.
[Illustration: No. 11.]
The drawing of Bradshawe Hall, from a plan of 1640, is almost ludicrous
from its lack of resemblance to the real building, but seems to be
worth giving from its quaintness.
On one of the later maps the houses are drawn with more precision; but,
unfortunately, the names are not attached to some of the best examples
(in Mellor township), of which we here give two reproductions (12). The
very old set of lime-kilns at Dove Holes are most quaintly delineated
on three of the surveys.
[Illustration: No. 12.]
By far the most interesting feature of these maps, in the eyes at
least of an antiquary, are the numerous instances in which crosses are
marked. The remains of crosses and cross stumps on these Derbyshire
moors have been casually noticed from time to time by cursory writers.
In a paper contributed to the _Reliquary_ many years ago, when under
the editorship of Mr. Llewellynn Jewitt, it was asserted with some
confidence that these crosses marked out the three great divisions or
wards of the Forest of Peak. This was a natural kind of guess to make,
but investigation immediately proved that such a supposition was quite
baseless. With the possible solitary exception of the cross on the old
pack-horse track from the head of Edale into Hayfield, not one of these
crosses has any possible connection with forest bounds. Nor are they,
as has been conjectured by another writer, terminal stones of monastic
lands, for we know with a fair amount of accuracy the directions in
which such lands lay, and in no one case do these crosses correspond
with such limits. It is also quite obvious that for the most part
these Peak crosses cannot, by any stretch of imagination, be described
as mere wayside crosses, either to mark some special incident or
tragedy, or to excite the Christian devotion of the wayfarer; and this
for the simple reason that the majority of the crosses do not appear to
have been on any frequented track of either the remote or nearer past.
Nor is it possible to conceive, by those who have visited any number of
them, that they could have been utilized for the purposes of guiding or
general direction.
It is, of course, far easier to say what they were not, than to arrive
at any true solution as to what was their general object or design. The
solution that so far seems the most probable has already been elsewhere
succinctly stated without awakening adverse criticism.[79] All those
crosses that have been hitherto identified by myself and friends during
three rambles with the old plans in our hands in three successive
years, have been on important boundary lines. I believe almost the
whole of them are pre-Norman, and I am at present strongly inclined
to believe that they mark the setting out of ecclesiastical divisions
or parishes, or parochial chapelries, soon after the reconversion of
England had become an established fact, and when Christianity, under
the ordering of Theodore and Wilfrid, was becoming definitely organised
and ceasing to be mere scattered groups of missionary stations. There
are reasons which are too long for statement here why such a planning
out was probably accomplished in Derbyshire at an early date. It is
obvious that if ecclesiastical bounds were to be marked out in a
comparatively wild and treeless district, something artificial would be
needed in far greater abundance than in ordinary districts, where large
trees, river banks, ancient roads or lands pertaining to particular
holders, could readily be named and utilized for boundary purposes.
[79] See articles in the _Athenæum_ for July 9th, 1904; June 24th,
1905; and September 8th, 1906.
The supposition that these crosses are of a township or parish boundary
character is much strengthened by the frequency of their occurrence in
the exact places where there are proofs of fairly early cultivation,
and where there were rather intricate intersections of such divisions.
Perhaps the most interesting of these seventeenth century plans is
the one which includes a considerable area, and has at the head the
following descriptive title, written in a straggling hand and signed by
the two surveyors:—
“The Mappe of the Wastes and Commons in Bowdon le Cappell, Fairefield,
Ferneleigh, Shalcross and Mellor as they are eaqually devided into two
eaqual parts quantity and qualitie considered and meas’^{ed} by us
Thomas Hibbart and Samuel Barton two Survayors being Sworne upon our
Oathes to that purpose by the Commissioners and delivered up unto the
saide Commissioners the eight daye of October 1640
“By us Tho: Hibbart
“Sa: Barton.”
On another part of the map is written:
Measured and divided by a Scale of fortie in the Inch.
The part of this map descriptive of the wastes and commons of Mellor,
which contained 356 acres, and which it was proposed to divide equally
between the King and the tenants, is marked with several crosses. At
the extreme north of the tenants’ portion is a curiously designed
landmark, here termed “Arnfeelde Poule” (13). This outline drawing
has the appearance of a pole or slender shaft affixed to the top of
a somewhat elaborate cross base. In other maps the same boundary is
outlined after different fashions, two of which are here reproduced.
From one of these, having a cross on the summit, it may be concluded
that it originally had that form. The name Arnfield or Armfield is
not now in any way known in the district, but one of the six roads or
lanes which meet at this point is still called Pole Lane. There is
no doubt that it took its name from one Robert Armfield, whose house
and land are figured on another survey. The place is now known as
Jordanwall Nook, and Jordan was the name of another tenant in adjoining
lands. This pole or cross is described in a survey of 1695 as parting
the hamlets of Whittle, Thornsett, and Mellor. At this spot, at the
junction of two of the roads, there is a large piece of boulder stone,
that has been roughly hewn, measuring 37 in. by 25 in., and over the
stone wall is another considerable fragment. These are probably the
remains of the base of Armfield pole or cross when it was broken
up. Other crosses marked on the Mellor section of the 1640 map are
respectively designated “the Birgwerd Crosse,” “the Mislne Crosse,” and
“the Stafforde Crosse,” all of them on boundaries.
[Illustration: No. 13.]
[Illustration: No. 14.]
The extreme north-west angle of the Mellor division has an outline
drawing, here reproduced, lettered “The two standing stones,” which
are elsewhere called “the Maiden Stones” (14). This pair of stones,
still to be seen, stand at an important boundary point, about 1,200
feet high, where the townships of Ludworth, Chisworth, Mellor, and
Rowarth meet. At the angle of Ludworth Moor, where these remarkable
stones are to be found, there is no road near, but merely an almost
disused track. For more than a century at least these stones have been
known by the name of “Robin Hood Picking Rods”; but such a name was
obviously unknown in the seventeenth century, as it occurs in none of
these old surveys. The title “Maidenstones” is one of peculiar interest
to any antiquary who has given attention to early earthworks, but it
is too intricate a subject to be here discussed. On a 1695 survey, a
boundary mark called “The Whyte Maiden” is marked a short distance
from the Standing Stones. These two circular pillar stones stand in
round socket holes, 12 in. apart, in a great stone about 80 in. long
by 49 in. broad. The taller of the two stands 45 in. above the base,
and has a girth at the bottom of 59½ in.; the shorter one stands only
30 in. high, but has a girth of 67 in. They have been pulled out
of their sockets more than once in the past century, and are both
mutilated. Part of the top of the shorter one (27 in. long) is built
into an adjacent wall (15). Judging from the analogy of the two Bow
Stones, five miles off to the north just across the Cheshire border,
they originally had filleted heads of Saxon workmanship. They may be
compared with a small filleted Saxon pillar in the porch of Bakewell
Church, and another taller one at Clulow, and more especially with the
Saxon shaft in the grounds of a private house at Fernilee which now
supports a sundial.
[Illustration: No. 15.]
Various more or less wild theories have been enunciated with regard to
closely adjacent twin pillar stones of this character, of which several
examples survive; they have sometimes been pronounced to be of Roman
origin, whilst others have claimed them as pertaining to Phœnician art
and of Phallic design. It must here suffice to ask our readers, who may
not have given particular attention to the subject, to believe that
they are beyond doubt of Saxon construction and date. When the sites
of all such twin-stones have been carefully investigated, it will
probably be established that they have some particular connection with
intricate boundaries, and possibly with the junction of two separate
ecclesiastical jurisdictions.
There are two other sites in the Peak district marked on these early
plans where a pair of stones, each surmounted by a cross, is figured,
neither of which have yet been identified. One of these is also on the
northern edge of the Mellor Commons, the Birgwurd cross, the outline of
which is here given.
Following the track from these Standing Stones due east for exactly
a mile, at the precise spot where the old track crosses the boundary
between Rowarth and Charlesworth townships, is the large fragment
of the base of an old cross which has at a later date been used as
a direction stone. Pursuing the same boundary line for half a mile
further in a south-easterly direction, the stone long known as the
Abbot’s Chair, and thus marked on the ordnance maps, is reached.
Though a wrong and fanciful name, it has been thus described for more
than two and a half centuries. On the 1640 survey it is styled “Abots
Chere” (16). This stone measures 37 in. by 24 in., and stands 24 in.
high; it is hollowed out to a width of about 17 in., with three of the
sides raised 5 in., so as to form a kind of rough chair with a low
back and sides. Closer examination shows that the hollow is really an
old socket, presumably for a large cross, one side of which has been
split off by the action of frost or human violence. The road that
passes near it from the north to Hayfield is called Monks Road. It was
in this division (Longdendale) of the Peak Forest that the Abbot of
Basingwork had considerable rights and a large grange, and possibly
this stone may have been thus mutilated and obtained its present name
in pre-Reformation days. It is significant that the “chair” stands on
the exact spot where the boundary is suddenly deflected at a right
angle; and at a distance of 200 feet from the chair-stone, on the other
side of the Monks Road, on the spot where the boundary resumes a
south-easterly direction, is the perfect stump of another cross. This
is a well-cut base, and obviously mediæval or after the Norman Conquest
[Illustration: No. 16.]
On the high ground in Cheshire, very near the Derbyshire boundary, is
a stone that goes by the name of “Pym’s Chair.” This stone, like the
“Abbot’s Chair,” Derbyshire, proved on examination to be the base of
a large early cross; one of the sides of the squared socket having
been broken away, gives it the appearance of a low, rude chair. It
bears the initials P C in large capitals, which were probably cut in
the seventeenth century when some survey was made. An obvious idea,
locally accepted, makes the initials stand for Pym’s Chair. The name
Pym is fairly common both in Cheshire and Derbyshire. It is curious to
note that a few miles off in the latter county, a little beyond Edale
Head Cross, another “Pym’s Chair” is marked on the ordnance map in a
desolate piece of moorland not yet investigated.
The Edale Head Cross is the best known of those in the Peak district,
for it stands by the old British trackway or pass from Hayfield over
Kinder into the Edale Valley. It stands at the highest point (1,750
feet) of this once much used pack-horse route. This cross, which now
stands fifty-seven inches out of the ground, has now no base, and seems
to have been moved more than once. The head is a Latin cross, and
incised within it, on the side towards the track, are lines forming
another cross, and within this, “I G 1610.” This refers to a survey of
parts of the Peak Forest begun in 1610, but never completed; John Gell
was one of the commissioners. This particular cross, which is of far
older date than the time of James I., can claim to be a forest as well
as a parochial boundary, for near this spot the three forest wards of
Longdendale, of Ashop and Edale, and of the Campana or Champion, met.
This cross is still sometimes known as the Champion Cross, and those
who have not known that Champion was only an old variant for the
Champagne or open grazing district of the Peak, have been silly enough
to invent would-be knightly legends and ballads in comparatively modern
days to account for the title.
Lack of space altogether prohibits any complete following up of the
considerable number of crosses on these seventeenth century plans, the
sites of which have been already investigated. It is hoped that in the
course of a few years it may be possible to produce an archæological
map of the whole district, upon which the remains of crosses may be
exactly defined, and then will be the time for coming to more mature
conclusions as to their general object and date. Two others, however,
may be now named. At a point on the verge of Abney Moor, 1,200 feet
above the sea level, about a mile to the south-east of Bradwell, where
the townships of Abney, Hazelbadge, and Bradwell converge, the maps
mark a cross styled Robin’s or Robin Hood’s Cross. After some search
we found the early rough base stone, showing half of a squared socket,
protruding from the bottom of a well-built stone wall, close to a stile
leading into an old roadway.
“The Martine Syde Crosse” appears on more than one of the old plans,
not far from a large farmstead or hall still known as Martin Side,
at an elevation of 1,100 feet above the valley of Chapel-en-le-Frith
(17). About a quarter of a mile beyond the hall on the roadside towards
Dove Holes, we noted the stump of a cross. The height of this stump
or squared base was 20 in., and it measured at the top 28 in. by 26½
in. In the centre was an empty shaft socket 11 in. by 9 in., and 8 in.
deep. From the rough character of this base stone, and from the shape
of the socket, it may fairly be assumed that it is of pre-Norman date.
A small channel cut from the edge of the socket to an angle of the base
stone seemed to be original, and may possibly have served as a pointer
to the next boundary stone.
[Illustration: No. 17.]
One other point remains to be noted in these somewhat desultory remarks
on the old surveys. In several places occur lines marked “Forest Wall.”
This was the stone wall of a very considerable circuit that enclosed
most of the Campana or Champagne district of the Peak Forest, where
the feeding for the King’s game of deer was the best. It was not a
high park wall to keep the deer in, but a comparatively low one,
with a dyke. Its object was to prevent sheep or cattle that might be
agisted within the forest from trespassing on the parts particularly
serviceable as pasturing ground for the often hardly tried deer; but
it had to be low enough to allow hinds and fawns, as well as harts,
readily to leap it when desirous of roaming further afield. It is quite
possible to trace in certain places the building of this unmortared
forest wall, which is constructed in a decidedly superior fashion to
other and later wall fences. One of the best places in which to note it
is on the lofty ridge that separates Edale from Castleton dale. In the
midst of this there is a pass and gateway in the forest wall, called
Ludgate in the old plans.
In June, 1561, Queen Elizabeth issued a commission of enquiry as to the
condition of Peak Castle and Forest. The commissioners were instructed,
among other matters:
“To view the height of one wall erected and made in or about one
parcell of one pasture called the Champion within our saide foreste,
how brode and depe the Dike in and about the same wall is, whether the
same dike be drye or standinge with water for the most parte of the
yere, pasture notwithstandinge the said walle and dike, and whether
the said wall and dyke be noisome or hurtefull to or for our deare and
game there, and to thinderance of the grasse for our said deare, or be
better for the cherisshinge of our said game and deare there or not.”
OLD COUNTRY LIFE IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY
By Sir George Reresby Sitwell, Bart., F.S.A.
The charm of country life, as we know it in England, lies almost as
much in old associations as in scenery and sport. An ancient hall
without its records is a body without a soul, and can never be fully
enjoyed until one has learnt something of the men and women whom it has
sheltered in the past—of their lives and manners, their love affairs,
their wisdom, and their follies; how the oak furniture gave way to
walnut, and the walnut to mahogany; how they laid out the gardens,
raised the terrace, clipped the hedges, and planted the avenue. Such
reflections have committed me to a task which has proved heavier than
I desired or anticipated. Indeed, I should never have persevered with
it had I not early come under the influence which an old house so often
exercises upon those who live under its roof; sometimes for evil, as
when a family inheritance of ill-health depends upon faulty drainage or
a waterlogged soil; sometimes as a spur to ambition, an incentive to
effort, or a liberal education in art.
My father died when I was two years old, and at the time I first went
to school we used to spend but a few months in the summer at our
old home at Renishaw, in Derbyshire. The building is of great size,
giving an impression of past wealth and power, the “olde richesse”
which Chaucer tells us is the foundation of “genterye,” and the
Jacobean plaster work and stone-tiled roof bear witness to its
antiquity. Most that was interesting within its walls had been swept
away in 1849, when the failure of the Sheffield Bank completed the
wreck of my grandfather’s affairs. The library, a gradual growth of
three hundred years, and the collection of Civil War pamphlets, had
been scattered abroad, and little of the original furniture remained
except the tapestries, pictures and china, and a few old cabinets
of tortoiseshell, rosewood, or ebony. Of family history, absolutely
nothing had come down to us but the tradition that our ancestors had
lived there since the reign of Elizabeth, and a story concerning a
portrait of the “Boy in red” (his name was forgotten), who had died by
drowning, and whose ghost was supposed to haunt the house. Yet there
was enough left to excite interest and to provoke enquiry. I remember
finding, on one of my holiday visits, amongst the old books in the
hall, a Greek grammar of the days when Shakespeare was at school, and
in it my own name, written by an earlier George Sitwell just three
hundred years before. The lumber room, with its Georgian panelling and
arched window looking out upon the staircase, had always excited my
curiosity, and being allowed to poke about in it on rainy days, I came
upon many strange and dusty relics of the past, the flotsam and jetsam
which had stranded there during several generations—old portraits and
brocaded dresses, portfolios of eighteenth century prints, the wreck
of a machine for perpetual motion upon which somebody was said to
have wasted twenty years of his life, a collection of minerals (two
compartments were labelled “Rubies” and “Emeralds,” but the specimens
were not so large as one could have wished), flint lock guns, rapiers
and swords, and a spring gun which must have been a real terror to
poachers, writing desks with letters and little treasures still stowed
away in them, and, most precious of all, a few old chests, heaped up
with manuscripts, parchments, and books. Within these, in the utmost
confusion, lay rentals, subsidy rolls, estate accounts, and household
books of the seventeenth century; bundles of old letters which had
turned yellow with age or were fast falling into dust, inventories
of furniture and linen, quaint little almanacs, bound in brown or
red leather, and fastened with silken strings or clasps of brass;
tradesmen’s bills of Queen Anne’s reign, with printed headlines or
little engravings of shop signs and articles of merchandise; wills of
all dates, from the fifteenth century onwards; and charters, many with
fine seals attached to them, of six or seven hundred years ago, and
preserved in little round or oblong boxes of thin oak, to which the
original covering of black leather still clung in shreds and tatters.
Curiosity, and the rather wild hope of hitting upon autographs of
Cromwell or Shakespeare, led me to examine these documents, and by the
end of my second year at Eton I had unconsciously learnt to read them.
After that time, my holidays were spent away from Renishaw, but before
I went to Oxford I had occasional opportunities of following up the
search amongst the numerous boxes of old manuscripts in the muniment
room and elsewhere in the house, and thought myself rewarded by finding
at one time impressions of the great seals of Elizabeth and James,
an original grant of arms, or a letter-book of Charles the Second’s
time; at another, King Richard’s charter to the Guild of Eckington, a
“protection” from General Lord Fairfax, a household book begun in the
year of the great plague, and a packet, sealed up two hundred years
ago and never opened since, which proved to contain papers relating
to fines, decimation, and sequestration under the Commonwealth. Still
more interesting were the old letters written by various members of
the family, and these I put carefully on one side, having already
formed the idea of publishing a selection from them. In 1880, the year
before I came of age, I commenced to write them out for the press in
my leisure hours, and nine years later the work of printing my first
volume was begun.
Amongst the many thousands of letters and papers at Renishaw, it was
not my good fortune to discover any of real historical importance.
This collection is not, of course, to be named in the same breath
with the Paston letters, nor can it be compared, either in bulk or in
interest, with the Rutland, the Talbot, or the Verney manuscripts. Yet
even the correspondence of an undistinguished family may illustrate
the history of earlier times. The letter of 1661 upon the causes of
the Civil War, the account of the Whitehall plot to assassinate Oliver
Cromwell, the printed summonses to appear before the Commonwealth
Commissioners at York and Westminster, the series of Civil War fines,
the Restoration letter-book, and the papers relating to Titus Oates
and Sacheverell, supply some new facts, and are not without value. The
order for the disbandment of the Derbyshire regiments in 1646, the
bargain for supplying the sheriff’s table in 1652, the letter to the
London Post Office authorities in 1664, the amusing description of a
journey to Nottingham in a stage coach, the agreements between the
gentlemen of Derbyshire in 1690 and 1736, the certified extract from
the Hatfield Court Roll of 1337, and the account of a riot at Sheffield
in 1756, have at least a local interest. One is glad to know what the
country gentlemen of the time thought of the hypocrisy of Cromwell
and the indolence of Charles the Second, of the Great Rebellion, the
“Sickness,” the Popish Plot, the Revolution, the South Sea Bubble, and
the invasions of 1715 and 1745; but, as would naturally be expected
from a family correspondence extending over three hundred years, these
letters are valuable rather as illustrating social life than as records
of public events. Concerning housekeeping, education, methods of
travelling, visits to London, and changes of fashion and manners, they
have much to tell us; of battles and sieges, the fall of ministries,
the prosaic virtues of the Georges, and the innate depravity of the
Pretender, not too much.
Macaulay, in his famous third chapter, writes of the “gross,
uneducated, untravelled country gentleman” of Charles the Second’s
reign; a “man with the deportment, the vocabulary, and the accent of
a carter”; a man whose “ignorance and uncouthness, whose low tastes
and gross phrases would, in our time, be considered as indicating a
nature and a breeding thoroughly plebeian.” It is not easy to reconcile
this description with the accounts given by contemporary observers.
The portrait certainly does not err on the side of flattery, and those
who are familiar with the printed literature and unpublished records
of that age will ask themselves with amazement whether it can be a
likeness. Macaulay asserts that the country squire of that period
never visited London and never opened a book. Contemporary writers
tell us that the latter was always riding post to London, and spending
his substance there when he ought to have been occupied with the care
of his estate, and that there were more private libraries in England
than in any other country in Europe. Now it is possible, of course,
that Macaulay knew more about the manners of that age than did the
people who lived in it; but it is also possible that he wilfully and
maliciously caricatured a class of men which he had political reasons
for disliking. The “gross, uneducated, untravelled country gentleman”
was usually a Tory.
[Illustration: Country Gentlemen on the London Road.]
It may readily be admitted that in the seventeenth century country
gentlemen could understand the local dialect, for intercourse with
their tenants and the servants and labourers in their employ would
otherwise have been difficult or impossible, and that the accent of
some Yorkshire squires might betray their origin as surely as that of
some Irish gentlemen to-day. But life in the country is no proof of
rusticity, and everyone who speaks with a brogue is not necessarily
a carter. At the time of which Macaulay writes, civilization was
not confined to London. York and Derby, to the inhabitants of those
counties, were “town” in the same sense that London is to their
descendants. London had not yet gathered to itself all the business,
the fashion, and the culture of the nation, and country gentlemen still
flocked in winter to cities which had once, perhaps, been the capitals
of independent kingdoms, and were even now centres of society, of
learning, and of government.
Neither in his virtues nor in his failings was the country gentleman
of Charles the Second’s time such as Macaulay has portrayed him. His
chief pleasure did not consist in drinking himself under the table with
strong beer, for excess was the exception and not the rule with the
class to which he belonged, and claret and sack, malago and rhenish,
were the beverages he was accustomed to, both at his own house and
at the taverns. His principal employment was not “handling pigs, and
on market days making bargains over a tankard with drovers and hop
merchants”; on the contrary, though a good judge of horses and oxen,
bullocks and swine, he left the stocking of the home farm and the
sale of produce to the steward who collected his rents. He was better
educated in Greek, Latin, logic, philosophy, divinity, and law, than
the country gentlemen of to-day, and more competent to manage his own
affairs; his taste (at least in building, furniture, gardening, and
dress) was more refined; he was keenly interested in public events,
and willing to make sacrifices for public objects; he took a kindly
and helpful interest in his poorer neighbours; though proud of his
position, was sensible enough to send his younger sons into trade; and
though he could not “shoot flying,” had a proper feeling for sport. He
was not free from the narrowness and want of charity, the aversion to
change and to new ideas so often found in those who have made divinity
and the classics the study of their lives, and religious bigotry was
his besetting sin.
The letter-book of 1662–6 throws much light on the George Sitwell, of
Renishaw, of that period. In appearance he was somewhat over the middle
height, and, as became one already well advanced in middle age, rather
neat and precise than fashionable in his dress. He wore a long periwig,
scented with orange flower water, a slight moustache and tuft of hair
upon his chin, a grey broad-brimmed beaver hat, large bands of white
linen or cambric, a dark grey cloth coat of simple cut, unbuttoned at
the waist, and with the wristbands turned back to show the soft linen
cuffs underneath, a sword belt and sword, cavalier breeches open at the
knee, riding tops of wrinkled buckskin, and square-toed shoes, with
high heels, and tongues to protect the instep from the stirrup. On
his arm he usually carried a horseman’s cloak.[80] His face, with its
good forehead and eyes, strong and clear-cut nose, and well developed
chin, gave an impression of force of character, tenacity of purpose,
and good reasoning powers; and this impression was strengthened by his
conversation, for even the most casual acquaintance could not fail to
observe that he was a man who had been accustomed to think and act for
himself, a man not only well educated, but gifted with a sound judgment
and a marked talent for business.
[80] See the effigy upon his tomb in Eckington Church.
He was an old cavalier who had garrisoned his house for the King, and
had suffered fines and “decimation” under the Commonwealth. In 1653
he had served as Sheriff, and had brought with him to Derby a chaplain
after his own mind, who preached a dangerously clever Assize sermon on
“Magistracie and Ministery, the State and the Church.” In a remarkable
letter to Lord Frecheville, written in April, 1661, he expresses his
opinion that the “late unhappy warr began about disputes in religion,”
and was the work of “crafty, wicked men,” “proud, insolent, factious,
seditious spirits,” who, finding it “best to fish in troubled waters,”
had made “Godliness their gaine” and “religion the cloake to cover
their intentions.” Such opinions were common enough at the Restoration,
but it is startling to find at such a moment the expression of a belief
that there had been faults on both sides, and that “flatterers of
Soveraignty” were as much to blame as “flatterers of popularity.” “We
have,” he adds, “a good, a gracious, and a prudent King, who, though he
hath not had long, yet hath had grand experience of men, which makes
him delight in and love those who are honest. He knows very well that
those who were the greatest flatterers of his ffather of happy memory,
divisers and promoters of monopolies and revivers of ould obsolete
laws, therby to lay uncoth and strange burdens upon the people, proved
his bitterest and worst enemies.” Justice between man and man the
writer considered to be the “sinews of all Commonwealths,” and the
laws of England the people’s “birthright” and their defence against
“arbitrary power.” At the first outbreak of the Civil War he had signed
two petitions inviting Charles to return from the North to meet his
Parliament; and after the Restoration his chief desire in politics was
to see “an Unity at home which will be a stronge Bullworke against
our advarsaries.” But he was sorely troubled at the King’s neglect of
business and the corruption of the public service.
Some account of his fortune and surroundings is a necessary prelude to
a study of his manner of life. The Renishaw estates[81] produced at
this time about £800 a year, and from other sources—chiefly from the
iron furnaces and forges[82] upon his property, for like many of the
greater and lesser landowners of that district he was interested in
the iron trade—Mr. Sitwell received an amount at least equal to his
agricultural rents. In order that the meaning of these figures may be
understood, it is necessary to explain that in the seventeenth century
the nation was poorer, manners were simpler and more primitive, and
the value of money was not the same. The purchasing power of money, as
most intelligent schoolboys are aware, was then, according to the usual
estimate, four times what it is at present.
[81] These estates were considerable in the reign of Elizabeth. In
the Derbyshire subsidy roll of 1596–7 Robert Sytwell is assessed at
£20 a year in lands, John Curzon of Kedleston, the ancestor of Lord
Scarsdale, at £21, William Cavendish, the first Earl of Devonshire, at
£30, and John Manners of Haddon, the ancestor of the Duke of Rutland,
at £40. Robert was sixth in descent from John Sitewell, who had a good
estate at Eckington in the fourteenth century, as may be seen by a
curious entry on the court roll for January, 1386–7.
[82] In the winter of 1661–2, 1,181 tons of sow iron valued at £6 a
ton were made at these furnaces. This amount may be compared with the
ten thousand tons which, according to Macaulay, represented the total
annual output of iron in England at the close of Charles the Second’s
reign.
The loyal Duke of Newcastle, who is said to have been the wealthiest
subject in Great Britain at the outbreak of the Civil War, had a rental
of only £22,000 a year. After the Restoration, the greatest estates in
the kingdom hardly exceeded £20,000 a year, and in 1669 the average
income of peers, taken one with another, was estimated at £3,000, of
knights at £800, and of esquires at £400 a year. Mr. Sitwell, with
a revenue of £1,600, was therefore possessed of a fortune above the
common; he pleads guilty, in one of these letters, to having a “good
estate,” and it is clear that in his own country he had the reputation
of being a very wealthy man.
His house, “the capital messuage called Renishawe”—situated some six
miles from Chesterfield, then a walled town and the “fayrest in all
the Peake Cuntrie”[83]—had been rebuilt out of the savings of his
minority shortly before his marriage in 1627. It stood (and yet stands,
for the old hall is the centre of the new) on the summit of a rocky
hill projecting into the vale of Rother, which here narrows to two or
three hundred yards, and commanding fine views towards the north and
south. On the latter side, a richly cultivated country, cut up into
innumerable inclosures by hedgerows, and scattered with forest trees,
formed a pleasing contrast to the wild and rugged moorland by which
Eckington was approached; and beyond it, to the south and south-east,
rose that beautiful ridge upon which Barlborough, Bolsover Castle,
and Hardwick stand. The turrets and battlements of these three famous
houses, towering up on the hillside above the groves and woodland which
surrounded them, were all visible from Renishaw; and to the south-west
the country rolled on in successive ridges of meadow land and common
towards the faint blue line which marked the edge of the Chesterfield
moors in the far distance. From the north front of the house,
Mosborough Hall could be seen across the green valley through which the
Mosbecke flows to its union with the Rother; on the left, beyond the
church and village, lay the ancient woods and picturesque manor park
of Eckington in a deep cleft between the hills, and to the right the
view down the vale extended for many miles into Yorkshire. East of the
house, the promontory upon which Renishaw stands was bare of planting,
being sheltered by the higher ground beyond the river, and by the woods
of Park Hall and Barlborough, and on the west a plantation of oaks and
ashes protected it from the prevailing winds which sweep down from the
distant moors.
[83] See the Derbyshire church notes of 1590 in Harleian MS. 6,592.
The river below the house was crossed by a highway, described in a
letter of 1665 as a “great road from the West parts of Yorkshire
towards London.” Approaching from the London side a traveller would
catch his first glimpse of Renishaw from the point where the manors
of Barlborough and Eckington meet. The building was three-storied and
of stone, with a four-gabled front facing the east, and, towards the
south, a battlemented hall between two projecting wings, of which the
nearer was furnished with a great bow window. It was surrounded with
orchards and walled gardens, and behind it a plantation of ancient
trees formed an impressive background. Below lay the cliffs and rocky
slope known as Broxhill, then unplanted, but deep in fern and gorse; in
the left foreground a line of willows marked the winding course of the
river as it approached the bridge, and to the right the ancient mill
and water meadows beyond were framed in by the wooded steep of Birley
Hill. Proceeding along the causeway (built as a protection against
floods) and across the bridge, the road turned sharply to the right and
to the left again, and so mounting the hill passed within fifty yards
of the house.
This road, with its wayside oaks and strips of green, was not, as
might be imagined, a quiet country lane, but a highway full of life
and colour and movement. Here, past the court gates, and in full view
from the first-floor windows of the house, flowed by throughout the
summer months a ceaseless stream of traffic. The smocked carriers
cracked their whips as they passed with their covered waggons and
long train of patient packhorses, or shouted to the women passengers
crouching behind them in the straw. Postboys with budgets of letters
cantered by, sounding their horns as they turned down to the village.
Beggars in rags, with their little bundles carried upon staves across
the shoulder, and wandering pipers and fiddlers, turned to look at
the house; Scotch pedlars, with cheap linen cloth in their packs;
and hawkers or chapmen with wallets full of little trifles—gloves of
cordevant and sheep leather, tobacco boxes, ribbons and shoe-strings,
almanacs, horn-books, jocktalegs, and ballads on the Dutch war and
the hearth tax. Gentlemen in long boots, riding suits and cloaks,
and velvet caps, trotted past, followed by mounted servants; or
honest yeomen in coarse cloth and worsted stockings, with their
wives in homespun and steeple hats riding pillion behind them. The
little processions of marketing and fairing folk came and went; brown
barefooted mower-women at hay and corn harvest; labourers in their
loose frocks tied in at the waist, patched breeches and hose, and
tall hats with vast projecting brims; country women riding to market
between baskets of farm produce, with chickens or ducks swinging
from the saddlebow; labourers’ wives trudging it on foot with wicker
trays of vegetables or fruit upon their heads; farmers’ wains drawn
by huge oxen, older and bulkier than any which can be seen to-day;
and, in autumn, droves of swine on their way to the woods. Often Lord
Frecheville’s or Lord Deincourt’s chariot and four passed the gates,
the coach of some neighbouring gentleman bright with heraldry and
gilding, a train of charcoal waggons bringing fuel to the Staveley
ironworks, or of others laden with long saws and brewers’ squares,
cannon shot, fire-backs, or sugar-stoves; and more rarely a ponderous
furnace-hearth drawn by twenty oxen, a company of militia in their
buffcoats faced with crimson plush, a gentleman riding to the poll at
Derby at the head of his tenantry, or the cavalcade of some great
nobleman journeying towards London with three coaches and an armed
escort of thirty or forty attendants on horseback. It was an ever
changing panorama of human life, an endless procession labouring
towards an unknown goal, for in the seventeenth century the nation was
to be studied rather on the roads than in the cities, and for commerce,
for travel, and for news, the roads were all that the railways and
telegraphs are to us, and more.
[Illustration: Arrival of a Guest at a Country House.]
From the busy world outside one entered a little haven of peace and
rest within the gates. The main entrance to Renishaw, which was
immediately off the road, led by wooden doors between stone piers into
a close court, the walls being planted round with fruit trees and the
borders with flowers, and so by a broad paved walk between two grass
plats to the steps of the porch. The building itself was of the usual
Jacobean type, with mullioned windows protected by string-courses,
gables and cupola tiled with stone, and battlemented roof over the
hall. In plan, it was a double E, the central member being given by
the porch on the north and by the great hall chimney to the south; on
the former side the projecting wings contained a buttery (to the east)
and a kitchen, on the latter a great and little parlour. Entering the
porch, a second door led into a hall of moderate size (twenty feet by
twenty-four), handsomely paved with grey and yellow stone, and ceiled
with heavy cross beams covered with plaster. Upon the oak panelling,
stags’ heads, escutcheons of arms, and maps of Europe and of Jerusalem
were hung, and the centre of the room was occupied by the long table
at which the family dined. On the opposite wall, between two windows
corresponding to those on either side of the porch, was a great
fireplace of stone, framed in by a mantel of carved oak. There was an
oak cupboard by the kitchen door, and here also hung a buffcoat and
some pistol-holsters. In the window lay the family Bible.
[Illustration: A Ball at an Assembly Room.]
On the left hand two doors opened out of the hall, the first into a
paved and arched entry which led past the buttery hatch (on the left)
to the garden entrance; and the second to the “Great Staircase,” finely
wainscotted and carved, and lighted by windows to the east. At the foot
of the stairs was the door into the great parlour, about thirty-four
feet long by twenty broad, by far the finest room in the house. A large
bow window at the further end, and three windows to the east, looked
out upon the flower garden. The ceiling of graceful renaissance plaster
work, light and in low relief, was designed with large quatrefoils and
diamonds, the points of the latter running out into branches of quince,
oak, or vine, or large fleur-de-lis of varying patterns. In the centres
of the spaces between were moulded ornaments of mermaids, dolphins,
squirrels, roses, octofoils, and winged and coronetted lions’ heads.
On the walls, immediately below the ceiling, was a frieze, also in
plaster, which exhibited a running pattern of vine leaves, grapes, and
birds, stopped at intervals by strapwork escutcheons, with renaissance
masks and heraldic lions’ faces upon them. Richly carved panels of
oak, with floral designs of lilies, roses, etc., supported the frieze,
and beneath them was plainer panelling broken up at intervals by flat
pilasters decorated with foliage or fruit. On this panelling a few
family portraits were hung; the furniture here, as elsewhere in the
house, was of carved oak, already a generation old, and there was much
needlework of the kind ladies then occupied themselves in making. The
mantelpieces were also of oak, one which showed in high relief the
sacrifice of Isaac, supported by figures of Samson and Hercules, being
especially noticeable. The fire backs in all the principal rooms had
been cast at Foxbrook furnace, some two miles away, from moulds of a
flower-pot, a phœnix, or the royal arms and supporters.
On the right of the hall were two doorways corresponding to those on
the left. The further led by double doors into the little parlour,
a small room with two windows to the south opening upon the garden,
and two to the west looking out across a little green court to the
brewhouse and the trees which overhung it. In the centre of the ceiling
a great double rose of plaster, more than two feet in diameter, covered
the junction of the beams. On the walls, maps of the World, France,
Paris, and Ireland were hung, and a few Dutch pictures. The nearer door
on the same side of the hall communicated with the little staircase and
the kitchen, the latter room remarkable for its great three-centred
chimney arch of stone, and for the pewter plates and dishes and brass
stewpans and pudding pans which were ranged upon the wall. A back entry
led into the kitchen court, or “well court,” a large yard built round
with offices, stabling, coach-house, brewhouse, dairy, laundry, ovens,
and barns. This was closed by great gates at night and contained many
bays of building.
To return to the house; the bedrooms were furnished with curtains
and rugs of green, purple, or “sad colour,” the great oak bedsteads
decorated with hangings of needlework, and the walls covered with
tapestry or wainscot. On the first floor was the “great chamber,” over
the great parlour, and another of smaller size (here, under a sliding
board, a secret receptacle in the floor for money or papers was found
a few years ago) above the buttery. The “hall chamber,” like the hall
below, was panelled with oak and ceiled with cross beams covered with
plaster. This was the owner’s bedroom, and the windows to north and
south, sheltered from sun and wind by the projecting wings, must have
made it the pleasantest in the house. It was entered from the landing
of the great staircase, and a door in the further wall led to Mr.
Sitwell’s study, above the little parlour, and to the little staircase.
In the study Mr. Sitwell wrote up the letter-book, passed the accounts
of his steward, Thomas Starkye (Starkye came up the back stairs),
and interviewed his tenants; on the panelling over the mantelpiece a
carbine and some pistols were hung, and recesses in the thickness of
the wall harboured a small library of books on divinity, law, and the
classics, of which the greater part had been collected by Mr. Sitwell,
though a few had been brought from the older house at the head of the
village. Above the kitchen was another large bedchamber, given over, I
suppose, to Mr. Sitwell’s youngest son, the only one of his children
who was still under his care. The plan of the third story was similar
to that of the second, the chamber over the hall chamber being again
the only means of communication between the two staircases. This was
occupied by Mrs. Heays, the housekeeper, who probably had one or two of
the younger maidservants to sleep with her; and here in the long winter
afternoons they wove and spun by the light of tallow dips, and talked
over the gossip of the village. The two rooms to the east had formerly
been used as nurseries, but were now guest chambers; and on this side
also was a store-closet over the stairs. On the west, the study chamber
was occupied by the cook and kitchenmaid, and that over the kitchen by
the maids. The men-servants and grooms probably slept over the stables.
At the Sacheverells’ house at Barton, an inventory of 1691 shows a
“maids’ chamber,” a “men’s chamber,” and a “grooms’ chamber,” and this
no doubt was the usual arrangement at the time.
The house was surrounded by a number of gardens,[84] courts, and
orchards, the walls of which were full of pears, apples, plums,
peaches, cherries, and nectarines. From the garden door one went out
into a corner of the south garden, somewhat wider than the house, which
projected into it. This was laid out in gravel, with borders against
the walls, broad walks round and across the square, and designs of
flower beds disposed in Jacobean knots, edged with box, and relieved
by pyramids of yew. Out of this to the left you went into the bowling
green and several courts and gardens, with green and gravel walks,
walled in and full of flowers and fruit. Beyond them lay the little
orchard, at the further extremity of which was an ancient dovecot of
stone, perched on the very edge of the cliff, and overlooking the wild
and tangled slopes of Broxhill and the flowery banks and winding course
of the river below. Returning to the south garden, a door opposite
the house led into the great orchard, some four and a half acres in
extent, in which were a pair of butts for archery,[85] and side alleys
bordered with flowers. From these sheltered paths, the further wall of
the orchard being below the slope of the hill, pretty glimpses could
be obtained of moorland and river, and distant spires and seats; and
here also, at the south-west corner of the garden, was one of those
square stone-tiled buildings without which no garden in the seventeenth
century was supposed to be complete. This garden-house was set against
a grove of ancient oaks and ashes, which protected it from the rays of
the afternoon sun; to the north, both wind and view were cut off by
the house, with its broken roof-line of battlements and gables, and
tall central chimney thrown into shadow by the projecting wings; but
towards the other points of the compass, a wide panorama of country
was spread out to view. Mounting the steps which led to the little
oak-panelled room above, one could see, over the tops of the apple
trees and the Gothic coping of the green-clad garden walls, Killamarsh
Moor, and the little village of Wales, in Yorkshire, from which the
Hewitts took their rise; the wooded hillside just across the river;
and high above the common, the ancient woods and manor houses of Park
Hall and Barlborough; the Mansfield road, which skirted past the forest
towards Nottingham and Derby; Emmett Carr, Barlborough Common, and
Marsden Moor; the splendid cliff and keep of Bolsover, famous for the
Earl of Newcastle’s prodigal entertainment to King Charles; Scarcliffe
and Palterton, once with Eckington a part of the _Domesday_ Barony of
Ralph Fitz-Hubert; the old and new halls of Hardwick, where the Earls
of Devonshire had their seat, standing out like twin towers above the
trees which surrounded them; and beyond the horizon, the spire of
Tibshelf Church on the Nottinghamshire border. Nearer, between Renishaw
and Hardwick, stood the little hall of Netherthorpe, in which Robert
Sytwell had lived in the reigns of Henry VIII. and Elizabeth, and
the grammar school hard by he had helped to found; Lord Deincourt’s
woods at Sutton Scarsdale; and Owlcotes, another of Bess of Hardwick’s
houses; and to the right, the Chesterfield road mounting up a green
spur two miles away towards Lord Frecheville’s ancient house and
park and the iron furnaces of Staveley. Beyond Staveley, which, like
Bolsover, Sutton, and Renishaw, had been garrisoned for the King in
the Civil War, the spire of Brimington could be seen; and above the
hollow in which Chesterfield lies, the distant hills which lead up to
Clay Cross, Ogston, Ashover, and the Derbyshire moors. To the west of
the garden house, a close walk between hedges led down the hill to
the low meadows and the river, and from this side also was a footpath
across the demesne to Foxton Wood, some two miles away, where the
bluebells were a sight to see in spring, and the bracken in autumn, and
good fishing and shooting were to be had. The hedgerows in the demesne
contained many oaks and ashes, but there was no ornamental planting
of any kind; in the woods, swine were still turned out in autumn, and
another relic of mediæval agriculture was the continued use of oxen for
ploughing.
[84] All these courts and gardens are shown in a map of 1756, which
gives also a small sketch of the house.
[85] The practice of archery was still considered a useful physical
exercise for boys. In July, 1665, Starkye paid a shilling for a bow and
arrows for Timothy Treeton, the orphan son of a substantial Eckington
yeoman and then fourteen years of age.
Houses and gardens such as those which I have just described can hardly
have been the work of coarse and illiterate men. Their beauty and
appropriateness, to which Lord Macaulay was blind, are recognised by
the better taste of to-day. One can see that they were planned with
infinite care and contrivance, every natural peculiarity of site,
climate, and outlook being turned to account, and that the country
squires who built them were thinking not merely of their own selfish
enjoyment, but of future ages. In the marriage indenture of Mr.
Sitwell’s eldest son in 1656, one of the considerations mentioned is
that the said messuage and lands “may be settled and established in the
name and blood of the said George Sitwell the ffather, soe long as it
shall please God to continue the same.” From such phrases one learns
not only the old builders’ pride in their houses, but the spirit which
animated them, and which alone can inspire good work in building and
laying out.
Renishaw was a quieter place than it had been ten years before, when
Mrs. Sitwell was alive, and the house full of young people; but
its owner, though he “hated ill-husbandry,” still kept a plentiful
house. He was constantly visited by various relations and friends,
and throughout the summer neighbouring gentlemen would occasionally
ride over to dinner and bowls, and Yorkshire acquaintances call and
drink at the gates, or rest their horses for an hour or two on the
way to London. Mr. Sitwell’s eldest son, and his daughters and
sons-in-law, were often with him, and Christmas especially, when
the hall was decorated with holly and ivy, and the Chesterfield and
Staveley fiddlers came over, and there was dancing in the great and
card playing in the little parlours, was a time of entertainment and
family reunion.[86] The preparations for Christmas and the New Year
began early in November with the brewing of a couple of hogsheads of
“Christmas beer” and the manufacture of “a brawne”—a mighty dish, for
it is valued in the household book at £2, the price of four muttons or
forty turkeys. When that season had arrived, the fat hogs were killed,
gifts were made to the servants, and money distributed among the poor
of the parish; turkeys, fowls, and rolls of brawn were sent as “tokens”
to absent friends; the tenants came with their rent capons,[87] were
regaled in the hall with beer, beef, mince pie, and plum porridge,
and spent the evening in boisterous games; and a doe was usually sent
over from Sheffield Park as a present from the Duke of Norfolk. It
appears by one of these letters that Francis Sitwell and his wife and
children were always expected from Gainsborough at Christmas, and no
doubt the Wigfalls came across in the evenings from their house a
few hundred yards away, the Burtons and Stones from Mosborough, and
Dr. Gardiner,[88] whom Mr. Sitwell had presented to the living of
Eckington eight years before, brought his children from the rectory.
Indeed, friends and tenants were entertained with so much conviviality
that the example proved dangerous to the younger members of the
family. In the last week of 1662, John, the London apprentice, was in
trouble with his master, and exactly a year later, Mr. Sitwell, while
protesting that he had “ever been wary to encourage” his son in such
courses, had to express a hope that in future he would “nether thinke
Christmas nor any other time lawless to play the foole in,” but when
he recreated himself among friends would “make choyce of sober, civell
company, and keepe good howers.”
[86] Letters from Mr. Sitwell’s sons at Aleppo and Seville always
reached him at Christmas. The business of keeping Christmas seems to
have ended with Twelfth Night. On December 22nd, 1662, Mr. Sitwell
arranges to meet a former steward, Robert Haigh, “on Munday next after
the Twelfth day.”
[87] The last mention I have found of rent capons is in a lease of
6th April, 1713, whereby Mr. Sitwell’s grandson and namesake lets to
Thomas Staniforth a small farm at the Ford. Staniforth, in addition to
the rent, was to pay “one good Rent Capon every Christmas.” Before the
middle of the eighteenth century the practice of entertaining tenants
at Renishaw had gone out, and on the 17th January, 1746–7, Francis
Sitwell pays to Isaiah Dixon, who kept an ale-house at Eckington, his
“Bill for entertaining my tenants last Christmas.”—See _Fam. Min.
Gent._, ii., 841.
[88] He had been Proctor of Cambridge University in 1649, and after
the Restoration was a chaplain to the King. Dr. Gardiner was a fine
preacher, as may be seen from his sermon in praise of Derbyshire,
quoted in the _History of Ashbourne_, 1839, page 204. A copy of his
Assize sermon, entitled “Moses and Aaron brethren,” and dedicated to
George Sitwell, Esquire, High Sheriff of the County of Darbie, may
be seen in Sir Henry Bemrose’s library. Francis Sitwell had been his
pupil at Corpus Christi. See also Master’s _History of Corpus Christi
College_ and the _Gentleman’s Magazine_ for April, 1776.
The owner of the letter-book mentions on one occasion an engagement
to be at the Wigfalls’ house for a christening, and no doubt he
celebrated the baptism of his own grandchildren, born at Renishaw in
July, 1661, and October, 1662, by entertaining his neighbours with
music and card playing, according to the hospitable custom of the time.
On the 14th of February there was dancing and drawing of valentines,
and the Chesterfield Sessions in April, the fairs at Chesterfield,
Sheffield, and Rotherham, races and bull-baitings for those who cared
for such frivolities, bowling parties at Renishaw and other houses in
the neighbourhood, the village wake and the “hare-getting supper”[89]
to the harvesters on the demesne, helped to enliven the monotony of
rural existence. But during much of the year when Mr. Sitwell and
his youngest son were alone, life at Renishaw was quiet and orderly
enough, and one day passed very much the same as another. At about
seven o’clock they breakfasted upon beer, cold meat, Westphalia
ham or neat’s tongue, oatcakes, and white bread and butter. After
breakfast, William walked down to pursue his studies at the rectory,
and his father rode out with Starkye to inspect his farms and iron
furnaces, or to attend to the parochial and county business in which
he interested himself. At eleven o’clock,[90] the servants, headed
by the housekeeper, Mrs. Heays, filed in to family prayers in the
hall; and immediately prayers were over the butler laid the table,
with its cloth of homespun linen, pewter plates and dishes, beer and
wine glasses, silver salts and spoons, porringers and tankards, for
the noonday dinner,[91] and put out the silver bottles and stoneware
jugs, edged with silver, upon the oak cupboard by the kitchen door.
Mr. Sitwell sat at the head of the table, with his back to the map of
Europe and the great staircase; and his son, in a grey cloth suit, fine
worsted under-stockings, scarlet silk over-stockings, and riding shoes,
at his left hand; and together they conversed about William’s studies
and the big trout in the Rother, the flower garden and the home farm,
John’s last letters from plague-stricken London, Robert’s adventures
at Aleppo, and George’s prospects of making a fortune in Spain. The
meal, plain but substantial—it consisted usually of broth served in
porringers and eaten with oat cakes, a joint with vegetables, poultry
or game, a pudding or tart, cheese and fruit; but on Fridays of fresh
and salt fish alone—was washed down by a glass or two of tent or malago
and a tankard of ale, and followed by a pipe of tobacco in the little
parlour or the garden-house. After dinner, Mr. Sitwell wrote letters
in his study, and read the gazettes and newsletters which his cousin
forwarded by every post from London; a little later in the afternoon,
he played bowls on the green, walked through the folds, looked at the
horses, foals, and oxen, and strolled across the demesne to watch the
mowers or harvest folk at work. Supper, the second “state meal”[92]
of the day, must have been early too; and after a pipe of tobacco,
a tankard of ale, and a game of cards or shovel-board in the great
parlour, the evening finished with family prayer. On Sundays, the
old coach, with its two bay mares, took Mr. Sitwell and his son down
to church at Eckington; there, in the large square family pew by the
second pillar on the right of the nave, with the servants ranged behind
them, they listened to the village fiddlers and Dr. Gardiner’s learned
but lengthy sermon; and when service was over, they carried the doctor
and his wife back to dinner at the hall. Mr. Sitwell was a good judge
of horses (in 1666 he was buying horses for Lord Ogle’s troop), and
took some trouble in the breeding of them;[93] his peace-offering of
four pheasants to the Duke of Newcastle in January, 1664–5, shows
that he shot with a fowling-piece; the use of two coursing similes
in the letter-book suggests that he may have kept greyhounds; and it
is likely enough that he occasionally rode with Lord Frecheville’s
staghounds,[94] for the pale of Staveley Park bordered upon his
demesne. He was certainly an active man in spite of his years, and fond
of an outdoor life.
[89] So harvest suppers were called in Derbyshire. The labourers at
Renishaw were sometimes entertained earlier in the year:—
£ s. d.
“30 June, 1666. For 20 men’s Dinners att Stones att
8d. _per man_ 0 13 4
”For ale then 0 6 8.”
Ellen Stones (her husband was a blackmith) kept an alehouse in
Eckington. At these dinners or suppers John Hunt, who was the oldest
labourer in Mr. Sitwell’s employment, took the chair.
[90] Lyson’s _Derbyshire_, 257.
[91] It was the common practice at this time to dine in the parlour,
but at some houses meals were still served in the hall. Henry Hastings
in Charles the First’s time certainly used his parlour for this purpose
(see Lord Shaftesbury’s Autobiography), and the Sacheverells at Barton
did so in 1680. In an inventory of Furniture at Renishaw, taken in
1698, “the long table” appears in the hall and not in the Great
Parlour, and in the latter room was an old harpsichord. Mr. Sitwell
and his son may sometimes have dined in the Little Parlour in cold
weather when they were alone, but undoubtedly the hall was the proper
dining-room of the house.
[92] Lyson’s _Derbyshire_, v.
[93] A payment of £1 in February, 1666–7, “about a horse’s leaping,” is
recorded in Starkye’s account-book.
[94] In 1687, the old dog-kennels belonging to Staveley Hall were
converted into cottages. See a deed at Hardwick from Conyers Lord Darcy
to Thomas Frith, dated 24th September of that year. Country gentlemen
in Derbyshire took at this time much pleasure in field sports. In
Leonard Wheatcroft’s _Elegy upon the death of all the greatest Gentry
in Darley Dale who loved Huntinge and Hawkinge_, written in 1672, he
refers to the cry—
“Of great mouth’d doggs who did not feare to kill
Which was their master’s pleesure word and will,”
* * * * *
“ffarewell you Huntsmen that did hunt the Hare,
ffarewell you hounds that tired both horse and mare,
ffarewell you gallant Falkners every one.”
In these verses he especially mentions Mr. Sitwell’s son-in-law,
William Revell of Ogston; in other pieces, written a few years later,
he speaks of fox-hunting and horse-racing.
[Illustration: Stag Hunting.]
Amongst the relations and friends already mentioned as visiting
Renishaw in 1662–6, the names of several occur in the letter-book.
Mr. Sitwell’s cousins, William and Roger Allestry (Roger represented
Derby in Parliament as his brother had previously done, and the
features of both, set out in all the glory of Restoration periwigs,
are known from engraved portraits), came at intervals to stay with
him; and another kinsman, John Spateman, of Roadnook Hall, in Ashover,
formerly a Justice of the Peace under the Commonwealth, was there in
June, 1666, on his way to plague-stricken London. Captain Mazine, the
“great horseman,” so good natured in supplying Mr. Sitwell with the
latest news of the Dutch war, was expected from London in July, 1665.
“I suppose,” the latter writes, “I shall have the happiness to kis
yo^r hand in the Country shortly, w^{ch} I desire the more y^t you may
be out of the Danger of the sickness.” In June of the previous year,
the Captain had been staying at Welbeck, and had apparently ridden
over more than once to dinner and a game of bowls at Renishaw. Mr.
Sitwell meditated calling upon him in return, and in reply to a message
confessed that he was behindhand with him, but when occasion offered
would endeavour to come over. William Revell, of Ogston, one of the
“Lovers of Huntinge and Hawkinge” in Darley Dale, upon whose lives and
deaths (he died in 1669) the Ashover poet wrote his “Elegy”:
“Then I to Ogston, there to break my fast
They all in mourning stood at me aghast,
To think my friend and lover was departed;
And so I left them, all most heavie hearted:
What shall I doe (thought I) to hide my head,
Seeing so many Gallants now are dead?”
—was often with his father-in-law at Renishaw; and William Sacheverell,
who afterwards distinguished himself so highly in Parliament, and
served as a Lord of the Admiralty under King William, rode over
occasionally from Morley to see his sister, Mrs. Sitwell. William
Simpson, a city lawyer, came down in October, 1662, January, 1662–3,
and again, bringing with him a copy of the King’s Speech to the
Parliament, in June of the same year; and in the following September,
“Cozen Franceys,”[95] as appears by a gap in the correspondence,
followed by the expression of a hope that he was “well got home,”
enjoyed the country air for two or three weeks in Derbyshire. There
are casual references also in the letter-book to country neighbours
who called and dined at Renishaw, as, for instance, John Bradshaw, of
Brampton Hall, a cousin of the regicide, in September, 1662; Lionel
Copley, of Rotherham, in July, 1665; and John Magson, of Worksop, a
rich merchant, whose fortune is estimated in one of these letters
at twenty-five or twenty-six thousand pounds in January, 1662–3,
and November, 1664. The last was probably a Quaker, as Mr. Sitwell
addresses him without ceremony by his Christian name and surname.
[95] Ralph Franceys of Friday Street, London, a descendant of the
Foremark family. He, or his father, had served as Bailiff or Mayor
of Derby in 1624 and 1632, and his mother was nearly related to the
Sitwells.
The household to be provided for was not a large one, and in many
respects it was self-sufficing. The finer German table linen, damasked
with hunting scenes, which came in soon after the Restoration,
had hardly yet found its way into the midland counties, and rough
table-cloths were still made in the house. Flaxen and hempen sheets,
pillowbears and window curtains, and woollen blankets, were woven by
the maid-servants; and I notice that in 1678–80, two stone of flax,
two of hemp, and two of wool, were purchased every year for use at
Renishaw. By the maids also the mattresses of the heavy four-poster
beds were stuffed with feathers from the fold. Cloth sufficient to
provide two suits of livery apiece for five or six men was bought at
about four shillings a yard at Mr. Newton’s shop in Chesterfield, and
made up in the house by John Staynrod, the village tailor. Wheat for
bread, and oats for the oatcakes, so much favoured in Derbyshire,
were grown on the farm, and ground with querns in the house as flour
was needed; and ryebread was also eaten, probably by the servants.
Pickling, preserving, and salting,[96] and the concoction of currant
and gooseberry wines, were carried on under the supervision of the
housekeeper; and baking, churning, and cheese-making at the ovens and
dairy in the kitchen court. Ale in the cask or bottled, and November
ale, and beer of various denominations—strong beer, small beer, stale
beer, bottled beer, March beer, and Christmas beer—were brewed in
large quantities, and about sixty-eight hogsheads represent the annual
consumption.[97] The practice of laying in large quantities of salt
beef and mutton at the commencement of November had already been
abandoned by the richer classes, and fresh meat was eaten all the year
round. From the home farm, orchards, and river, meat, fish, eggs, milk,
cream, vegetables, and fruit were supplied; turkeys and fowls were
bred there, and game could be obtained in any quantity from the woods,
and pigeons from the dovecote. Salt fish from Scarborough or Hull was
bought in Chesterfield for the Friday dinners. Wax candles for the
hall and parlours were procured from George Hattersley, a chandler in
the village, at the cost of four or five shillings a dozen; and tallow
candles for the bedrooms were made in the house. Soap, in the form of
“washing balls,” was manufactured at the farm at the cost of a shilling
a dozen, and about fifty-two dozens represent the annual consumption.
Pit coals were obtained from Eckington Marsh at half-a-crown a load,
the carting being done upon “boon days” by Mr. Sitwell’s tenants.
Groceries were bought in Chesterfield, a groom or footman being sent
over on horseback, or a commission given either to the carrier or
to one of the little company of “market folks” who trudged over from
the village on each succeeding Saturday. At the last-named town
there was an apothecary (Wood), a furniture shop (Shentall), and a
bookseller (Crofts). Cases of knives for the table could be bought at
six shillings in Sheffield from James Stainforth, who in 1662 served
as Master Cutler. A chirurgeon (John Fleming) resided at Eckington,
but on one occasion a poor boy, in whom Mr. Sitwell had interested
himself, was sent over with the carrier to Nottingham for the great Dr.
Thoroton’s advice.
[96] In February, 1665–6, Mr. Sitwell ordered from London a
hundredweight of good white sugar, the Muscovados sugar consigned to
him from Barbadoes having proved unfit for his use. For preserving,
the whitest powdered sugar was necessary. (See _Verney Letters_, iii.,
278.) In a pocket almanac of 1699 which belonged to Mr. Sitwell’s
grandson and namesake, there is a note that the latter has lent to Mrs.
Stringer his “wife’s two Receipts Bookes.” These have unfortunately
been lost, but the receipt-book of a neighbour, Mrs. Colepeper, amongst
the Colepeper MSS. in the British Museum, enables one to form some idea
of their contents.
[97] In the last six months of 1665 (leaving out one doubtful entry of
£1 5s.), £10 0s. 9d. was spent upon malt for brewing at Renishaw. Malt
in that year cost £1 3s. to £1 3s. 6d. a quarter, and these payments
will therefore indicate a yearly use of something over 17 quarters,
which, according to Markham’s _English Husbandman_ of 1613, would give
51 hogsheads of ordinary beer and afterwards 17 hogsheads of small
beer. Seventy hogsheads would allow nearly three quarts a day _per_
head to Mr. Sitwell and his son and a household of four men servants,
two footboys, and six women servants. They could not, of course, have
drunk so much, but the calculation makes no allowance for visitors. At
Barton, the seat of the Sacheverells, £16 was paid during the year 1685
for twenty quarters of barley for malting.
But though a country house, at least in regard to the common
necessaries of life, was supplied from the demesne, and did not as
now depend upon shops in the village and neighbouring town, it is
surprising to find how many small luxuries were ordered in London or
even imported from the Continent. The packhorses of Hemingway, the
Sheffield carrier, were constantly burdened with Westphalia hams at
tenpence the pound, capers at the same price, and currants for the
daily pudding; with newspapers and books, writing paper, French hats
for Mr. Sitwell’s grandchildren, bottles of cinnamon water, orange
flower water, strong water, and Rosa solis, and runlets of various
wines. From London Mr. Sitwell procured also his own dress and that of
his son, tobacco at eighteen shillings and sixpence a box, and silver
plate. As might have been expected from one of the older generation,
he was fond of good sack, which he ordered in London or on occasion
from the “Angel” Inn at Chesterfield; but he supplied himself also with
barrels of tent wine and malago from Spain, where one of his sons was
a merchant. From that country also chests of oranges and lemons, and
barrels of olives and of raisins, were forwarded to him. Sugar, on one
occasion, he imported from Barbadoes, but it proved to be too coarse
for his use. Chests and barrels too heavy for one horse to carry were
sent by Nottingham wagon, or by way of the Humber and Trent to Bawtry,
and thence by road to Renishaw. Letters from London to Renishaw were
posted on Tuesdays and Saturdays, and arrived in time to be answered
on Fridays and Tuesdays. The charge was threepence for postage, and
fourpence to the “foot-post” from Chesterfield, and if carried to the
posthouse they seldom failed.
I must not pass away from the subject of housekeeping without saying
something about the extraordinary cheapness of meat, and especially of
game, at this period. In the Renishaw “house-book” for 1671, a price
is set against all the articles supplied from the farm or bought in
the village. A veal is valued at ten to twelve shillings, a mutton
at six to ten, a lamb at five to six, a beef at £3 15s. to £4 4s., a
porket at ten to eleven shillings, and pigs at from 1s. 3d. to 1s.
6d. each. Chickens could be had for threepence and fourpence, pullets
at sixpence, ducks at fourpence to eightpence, geese, capons, and
turkeys at a shilling, pigeons at elevenpence or one shilling a dozen,
and rabbits at sixpence to 1s. 2d. a couple. Partridges and teal were
eightpence a brace, woodcock eightpence to a shilling, wild ducks a
shilling, plovers fourpence to sixpence, and snipe fourpence. Cheeses
were eightpence to tenpence each, and butter was fourpence a pound.
Household loaves, not of white bread, were a shilling each, and flour
for manchet or for the kitchen 1s. 3d. a peck.
[Illustration: Acquaintances Meeting in London.]
According to Macaulay, not one gentleman in a hundred travelled once
in seven years beyond the nearest market town; but the truth is that
the country squires were often upon the road, and few who lived within
five days’ journey of London failed to visit it occasionally. In
Derbyshire, from the end of November until the beginning of April, the
highways were impassable for wheels and very unpleasant for horsemen,
and even April is said in one of these letters to be “too soon, for
the ways will be bad.” Mr. Sitwell rode up to London every spring,
usually in the last-named month or in May, and he sometimes visited
it a second time in August. His plans were laid a month or six weeks
in advance, and a week or ten days before starting a box or trunk of
clothes was sent on by carrier. He left Renishaw at seven o’clock in
the morning, attired in a riding suit, top boots, a horseman’s cloak,
and a “mounteroe,” or Spanish travelling cap, of velvet. Pistols were
borne in the holsters, for Sherwood was a noted haunt of highwaymen,
and behind him rode a footman in livery, carrying his portmantle (it
contained clean linen, a nightdress, nightcap, and change of clothes)
and hatcase upon the saddle. The first night was spent at Nottingham,
after a ride of thirty miles through the forest; the second at
Harborough (twenty-eight miles); the third at Dunstable (thirty-five
miles); the fourth in London (thirty miles). The charges incurred by
himself, his man and horses, in riding up, amounted on one occasion to
£1 13s. 6d., and in returning to £1 1s. 6d., and one horse was killed
in the journey. In London, Mr. Sitwell frequented the “Greyhound” Inn
in Holborn, next door to “Furnival’s” Inn, and there he paid about
eight shillings and fourpence a week for chamber rent and washing, and
eighteen shillings and eightpence for hay and corn for his horses. Food
and minor expenses came to about £1 6s. 8d. a week. While in town, he
met his friends at the Royal Exchange, and dined with them at one of
the many taverns near it; strolled about in Gray’s Inn Walks; went
by water to Westminster—his cousin, Roger Allestry, was a Member of
Parliament; supplied himself with clothes, books, silver plate and
tobacco from the various shops; visited his son, the scapegrace John,
who was in the silk trade, being apprenticed to Nicholas Delves,
Esquire;[98] and on Sundays attended divine service at St. Andrew’s,
Holborn, or St. Paul’s. He had business also to attend to, for on one
occasion I find him paying a sum of £200 “att the Southe Porche of St.
Paule’s, London.” Sometimes, I suppose, he walked in Hyde Park, or
visited Whitehall, where the King and Queen dined in public; but there
is no evidence that he had any taste for the theatre, the cockpit,
or the coffee-houses. His stay in the “Metropolitan City” usually
lasted for a fortnight or three weeks, and the total cost of the visit
was about twelve pounds, though as much more was often laid out upon
various purchases.
[98] This Nicholas Delves is the person who put Titus Oates to school
as a free scholar at Merchant Taylors’ in 1664. See William Smith’s
_Intrigues of the Plot_, 1685, page 25.
Upon the ignorance and illiterateness of the country squires, Lord
Macaulay is never tired of dwelling. He tells us that their language
and pronunciation were “such as we should now expect to hear only from
the most ignorant clowns,” and that a gentleman “passed among his
neighbours for a great scholar if _Hudibras_ and _Baker’s Chronicle_,
_Tarlton’s Jests_, and the _Seven Champions of Christendom_ lay in his
hall window among the fishing rods and fowling pieces.”
Equally ill-founded, as far as I can judge, is the historian’s attack
upon the “gross uneducated country gentleman,” and his assertion that
in Charles the Second’s time a knight of the shire had seldom a library
as good as may now be found in a servants’ hall or a tradesman’s back
parlour. For the class of which he writes was at least well schooled,
and few country houses were without a little collection of books upon
the classics, divinity, law, and current politics. Mr. Sitwell had
received an excellent education, as is evidenced by a Latin manuscript
in his handwriting upon the art of logic, and several Greek and Latin
schoolbooks still preserved at Renishaw. In his will, he thought his
“printed books” equally worthy of mention with the pictures and maps,
the wainscot, ceiling, and glass in his house at Renishaw. From the
books still remaining there, and from an old catalogue taken in 1753,
it is possible to reconstruct his library, and to form an opinion upon
his tastes and the extent and limits of his reading. Upon the shelves
in the study cupboards, Homer and Aristotle, and most, if not all, of
the greater Latin writers, were represented. For divinity, there were
Fox’s _Acts and Monuments_; Usher’s _Chronology_, _Annals_, and _Body
of Divinity_; the Works of Tertullian, Polycarp, Eusebius, Ignatius,
Chrysostom, Justin Martyr, and St. Augustine; Leigh’s _Critica Sacra_;
Corneille’s _Livre de l’imitation de Jesus Christ_; _Meditationes
de vita Christi_, by Vincentius Brunus; the _Methoda Theologiæ_ of
Andreas Hyperius; Justus’ _Lipsius De Cruce_; Crellius’ _Of one God_;
Culverwell _On the Light of Nature_; Hakewell’s _Apology_; Jewel’s
_Apologia Ecclesiæ Anglicanæ_; Durell’s _View of the Reformed Church_;
_A Defence of the Catholic Faith_, by Grotius; Dr. Fenton’s _Six
Sermons against the Church of Rome_; Spencer _On Prodigies_; Hammond’s
_Fundamentals_, and his volume on _God’s Grace and Decrees_; a _History
of the Inquisition_; Whittaker’s _Controversial Tracts of 1588_;
Bilson’s _Anti-Christian Rebellion of 1585_; Wigand’s _Jack of both
Sides_, published in 1591; and Fuller’s _History of the Holy War_.
Law was represented by Coke’s _Institutes_; Pulton’s _Statutes_, and
his works on the _King’s Peace_ and on _Offences and Misdemeanours_;
Scobell’s _Acts of Parliament_; Rastell’s _Statutes_; the _Institutes
of Justinian_; an _Explicatio Juris inter Gentes_, and the _Civiles
Doctrinæ_ of Lipsius; History by Daniel’s _Wars of York and Lancaster_;
Rushworth’s _Historical Collections_; Sleidan’s _History of the Four
Empires of Antiquity_; and a _Historia Universale_, published at
Venice in 1605. Literature by Bacon’s _Essays_ and his _Latin Works_;
the _Colloquies_ and _Praise of Folly_ of Erasmus; the _Princeps
of Machiavelli_; Milton’s _Defensio Populi Anglicani_; and King
Charles’ _Works_. Other books worth mentioning were Boquet’s _Discours
execrable des Sorciers_, and his _Histoire de Faust_; a _Life of
Tycho Brahe_; Galen’s _Medicine_; Descartes’ _Philosophy_; Galileo’s
_Systema Cosmicum_; Harvey’s _De Generatione Animalium_ and _De Cordis
et Sanguinis Motu_; Burgersdijck’s _Philosophia Moralis_; Gassend’s
_Astronomy_; Alsted’s _Physica Harmonia_; Baker’s _Arithmetic of
1607_; Tacquet’s _Mathematics_; Oughtred’s _Trigonometry_; Butler’s
_Rethorick_; Keckerman’s _Logic_, and the _Logic of Molinæus_; Wright’s
_Theory of Navigation_; Bosse’s _L’Art de Perspective_; Mendez Pinto’s
_Voyages_, translated by Cogan; _Hornus de Originibus Americanis_;
Corderio’s _Colloquies_; an _Introduction to Geography_; a book on
the Art of Speaking, and another, published in 1639, on the Actions
of Gunnery. Tied up in parcels were a number of pamphlets relating to
the Civil War and Restoration, and including the Bishop of Worcester’s
_Sermon on the Coronation of Charles II._, Cotton’s _Panegyrick on
the King_, _A Noble Salutation to Charles Stewart_, and _A Plea for a
Limited Monarchy_, published in the same year. Dr. Gardiner’s _Assize
Sermon_ of 1653 must not be forgotten, in which he speaks of his
“honoured friend and patron,” Mr. Sitwell, as a “cordial friend to
Religion and Learning, Piety and Sobriety”; nor Evelyn’s _Sylva_, in
which the owner of Renishaw is once mentioned, for he had supplied the
author with information concerning the giant oaks of the Rivelin and
Sherwood. The library as a whole is that of a practical man who wished
to make the best of both worlds, and to whom the classics, divinity,
law, politics and science were the only subjects worthy of serious
attention. Milton had not yet published his _Paradise Lost_, and to the
country squire of that day literature meant the classics, and English
poetry and prose were a world unknown.
Though “noe politition nor statesman,” Mr. Sitwell took a keen
interest in home and foreign affairs. News books, papers of news,
letters diurnal, gazettes, royal declarations and speeches, and Acts
of Parliament, were constantly forwarded to him by his cousin, Ralph
Franceys, who resided in London. Franceys frequented the Exchange,
and the taverns and coffee-houses about it, and kept him informed of
“what is said in the City”; and, in addition to the items of news thus
supplied, Captain Mazine (well known by sight to all who have studied
the engravings in the Duke of Newcastle’s book on horsemanship), Peter
Pett, the naval commissioner, and other correspondents in London told
him what they heard, and he had occasionally a “particular relation” of
some important occurrence, a confirmation “by one who lives neare the
Court,” or a copy of “a letter to the Mayor of Hull which a friend of
myne saw.” He was thus better acquainted than most of his neighbours
with what was going on in the world, and it is curious to find that
in February, 1660–1, the loyal Marquess of Newcastle owed to him the
first intimation of the date of the elections. “His Excellency,” writes
Sir Francis Topp, the secretary, “hath commanded me to let you know
that he will not expect you until your own occasions may give you the
opportunity, and then you shall be very welcome. We presume you writt
about the choosinge of Knights and bourgesses, which we conceave is by
some directions of the Councell, for we have noe newes got here of y^e
writts.”
[Illustration: Guest Arriving on Horseback.]
The owner of the letter-book describes himself as “one of those fooles
of the world who love to be busie,” and, in spite of his age, led an
active and in many respects a useful life. His duty as a commissioner
for the royal subsidies took him frequently to Chesterfield and Derby,
and at the latter town, as became one who had served as Sheriff, he
attended the Assizes, and sometimes served upon the Grand Jury. He
often “waited,” either upon public or private business, or merely to
“tender his service,” upon the famous Duke of Newcastle at Welbeck,
the Earl of Devonshire at Hardwick, and Lord Scarsdale at Sutton, and
more rarely upon Lords Deincourt, Frecheville, and Byron. On Tuesdays,
when Sheffield market drew in the neighbouring gentry, he sometimes
met his acquaintances at the “Angel” Inn, near the Irish Cross; and on
Saturdays, as already explained, he dined at the eightpenny ordinary
at Chesterfield on fish, mutton, chicken, and ale, and when dinner was
over, joined his friends, Cornelius Clarke, of Norton Hall, Samuel
Clarke, of Ashgate, and Mr. Watkinson, of Brampton, in the enjoyment
of a game of shovel-board and a bottle of sack. He visited the fairs
at Sheffield, Rotherham, and Chesterfield; rode up to London at
least once a year; and at intervals paid visits of a few days to his
“son Revell,” at Ogston Hall; to Doncaster, where he stayed with his
daughter at Nether Hall, or with his wife’s brother, Mr. Childers, of
Carr House; and to Nottingham, whence I have no doubt he ran over to
see his “brother Sacheverell” at Barton. All these excursions were
on horseback, and a start was made from Renishaw as early as seven
o’clock in summer and eight in winter, as is shown by appointments to
be at Chesterfield “before eight oth’ clock” in June, and at Whitwell
“between eight and nine oth’ clock” in February. This hour, however,
was not too early for letters to be written before mounting, as may be
seen by one which concludes—“So breifly, for I am just putting foot
into stirrop, I remaine your freind to serve you.”
There was also much local business to be attended to in Eckington
and the neighbourhood. In April, 1661, just after the elections were
over, Mr. Sitwell was intrusted with the proceeds of the subsidy which
had been imposed upon the township for the buying of trophies, in
order that he might convey it to the Sessions. A little later, being
commanded upon the news of Lambert’s rising to march to Derby with
whatever force could be raised, he advanced money to honest poor men
his neighbours, who walked as far as Chesterfield before they learnt
that their services would not be required. At another time we find him
endeavouring to procure men and horses for Lord Ogle’s troop. In 1665,
the bridge at Renishaw being so decayed with age that any little flood
made it impassable, Mr. Sitwell applied to the Court at the Sessions
for money, as it was required for the work of repair. The bridge was
of stone, and approached at either end by a causeway supported upon
small arches; and he supervised the rebuilding of it from the very
foundations, and, partly at his own expense, made it “soe that for many
generations the country will not need to be att further charge.” There
is a letter to the jury in a local lawsuit, and two others, requesting
the Justices to discharge or bail prisoners before trial. In January,
1663–4, when a doubt has arisen as to the proper manner of collecting
hearth money in the parish, he writes to Sir Simon Degg, asking the
latter to direct the constable what he is to do therein; and in
December, 1665, a pauper who had been sent by warrant of two Justices
from Eckington to Treeton having been returned by Sir Francis Fane, a
letter is carried to Treeton by several persons who are ready to swear
that the unfortunate man had no settlement in Eckington.
The owner of the letter-book had a warm and somewhat arbitrary temper,
and when roused could “speak plaine English” (not, indeed, as Macaulay
would have led one to expect, in oaths, coarse jests, and scurrilous
terms of abuse, uttered in the broadest accent of his province, but
pure, nervous, incisive English) with force and directness. In other
respects, he was a good Christian, who believed that it was the “duty
of every man to be careful in the service of God,” but abhorred the
cloak and the mask of pretentious piety; supported the institution of
Bishops and the “decent, harmless ceremonies” of the Church of England,
but “meddled not with controverted points of faith.”
In disposition, the writer was a kind-hearted man, and in spite of
a great deal of public and private business, he found time to help
other people in their troubles. He twice redeems a debtor out of the
House of Correction at Chesterfield, and endeavours to assist him when
imprisoned there for the third time. He writes on behalf of “Whittles’
boy”—“a poore ffatherless and Motherless boy, an object of pitty to
move one, if not to releeve him, yet to helpe him to right from those
who would doe him wrong”—to the Rector of Aston and Sir Francis Fane,
begging them to hear and determine the differences between the lad and
his “knavish uncles”; provides him with clothes and other necessaries,
and finds money to release him from a cruel master and to keep him from
starving. He sets himself to help Mr. Leigh, of Coldwell Hall, who had
lately fallen into a sad condition of poverty; pays £4 in order to have
a son, Joseph Leigh, apprenticed to a tailor in Sheffield, and urges
another son in London to “write by the next post after this comes to
you, to hould up the hartt of the ould man.” Later on, he drafts a
petition on behalf of the father applying for a place in the Duke of
Norfolk’s Hospital or Almshouse, at Sheffield. He urges a spendthrift
husband to make a settlement of his property upon his wife, who had
brought him a little fortune in marriage, and was willing upon such
terms to free him from his debts and to maintain his children. He
endeavours to incline to mercy the creditors of a former maidservant
at Renishaw, who had married a man already deeply in debt, seeing that
she was willing, in her own phrase, “to part with all they had, quick
and dead, to pay theire debts, soe that they might have the freedome
to beginn the world new and to live by theire labor.” It was a common
practice at this time for litigants to avoid the cost and delay of a
lawsuit by referring their quarrel to some neighbouring gentleman for
his “doom and award,” and Mr. Sitwell, believing arbitration in such
cases to be a “very charitable good worke,” both rendered such services
himself, and made arrangements also on behalf of others. He was “shy
of his reputation” in Derbyshire, where he was “well known in his
country”; anxious to do his duty by his children, and not, as he puts
it, “to bringe trouble on those I leave behinde me”; and considered
the possession of a good estate carried with it “an ingagement thereby
to be regardfull of the welfare of one’s Country.” It may be inferred
from the use of certain phrases in the letter-book that then, as now,
public spirit, truthfulness, and courtesy were considered to be the
distinguishing marks of the class to which he belonged.
Such, in real life, were the Tory squires upon whose memory Lord
Macaulay has heaped the coarsest epithets of a not very refined
vocabulary, the falsest coin of a not very sterling rhetoric; for
I have no reason to believe that the owner of the letter-book was
otherwise than an average specimen of the class to which he belonged,
neither better nor worse than his neighbours who sat next him at the
market ordinary, discussed the Dutch War with him over a quart of sack
and a pipe of tobacco at the “Redd Lyon,” or rode over to a mid-day
dinner and a game of bowls at Renishaw. The impression left upon the
mind by such documents as the letter-book is not one of rudeness, but
rather of comfort, education, and refinement. Of the ignorance and
uncouthness, the drunkenness, the pig-handling, the low habits and
gross phrases, the oaths, coarse jests, and scurrilous terms of abuse,
the vulgar taste which aimed at ornament, but could produce nothing
but deformity, there is not a trace; and instead of meeting with “the
deportment, the vocabulary, and the accent of a carter,” and the
manners of “rustic millers or alehouse keepers,” we find a class of men
useful in their generation, public-spirited and intellectual, courteous
in their dealings with each other and compassionate towards the poor,
and better judges of taste in architecture and gardening than at least
one of their critics.
[Illustration: A Gentleman and his Servant on the Road.]
DERBYSHIRE FOLK-LORE
By S. O. Addy, M.A.
Every English county, one might almost say every English village,
has preserved some fragments of a vast body of traditional lore
which, before the age of printing, was common to the whole people.
Such fragments may still, like coins on the sites of Roman towns, be
picked up, some in better condition than others. Unfortunately, those
who have written on this subject have preferred for the most part
to limit their researches to old books. For instance, Brand, in his
_Observations on Popular Antiquities_, first published in 1777, has
given us a collection of scraps drawn from a thousand authors. It was
very entertaining, no doubt, but the work would have been more valuable
had its author collected from the lips of the people the ballads,
legends, tales, and other portions of belief and custom which in the
eighteenth century were far more abundant than they are to-day. It was
a great opportunity neglected. But in the eighteenth century there
was excuse for such neglect, because the value of such things was not
then understood. Nor was their importance seen until the publication
of such works as Scott’s _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_ in 1802,
and an English translation of Grimm’s _Popular Stories_ in 1823. Even
then English students did not begin to collect traditional remains
systematically.
Although in these days the word folk-lore has become part of the
common speech, and the subject is in some degree familiar to everybody,
little original research is done. Even the Folk-lore Society, instead
of collecting fresh material—and there is plenty to be had—has been
printing, under the name of _County Folk-lore_, a farrago of material
from local histories and guide-books, of which not one item in twenty
was worth reproducing. Far different is the work of such men as
Kristensen, whose labours in Denmark should have been taken as a model
of what should be done in England. Not every day could a man be found
to dine on potatoes or sleep on the table of a workman’s cottage, as
Kristensen has done, in order to secure a ballad or a tradition. But
at least it should be possible to make some effort to collect the lore
which is passing away from us for ever. The old books are not likely to
perish; the men and women who know the old tales are dying every year.
But where you have one man ready and willing to collect folk-lore or
dialect, you find a hundred who want to advance theories or to write
little grammars. The armchair of the study is so much more comfortable
than a rush-bottomed chair in a cottage.
In Derbyshire we have folk-lore which is common to other parts of Great
Britain, just as Great Britain has folk-lore which is common to other
parts of Europe. But every country has preserved items which are to
be found in no other, or which, if found elsewhere, appear in such
a modified shape that they contain much that is new. For folk-lore
has been compared to a mosaic which has been broken and scattered,
some fragments lying here and others there. In Derbyshire we have the
garland or ceremony of the May King, which is performed at Castleton
on the 29th of May—an ancient rite which seems to have survived in no
other part of Great Britain.[99] And then we have the Derby Ram or
Old Tup, which may occur in other counties, but which, at all events,
is so much associated with Derby as to have taken its name from that
town. It is remarkable that these ceremonies are connected with ancient
boroughs, for there were burgage tenements both in Castleton and Hope
in the thirteenth and fifteenth centuries.[100] In Castleton there was
Peak Castle, older than the Norman Conquest; in Hope there was the
Roman town of Burgh or Brough.
[99] First mentioned in literature by Dr. Cox, _Churches of
Derbyshire_, ii., 132; see _Folk-lore_, xii., p. 394 _seq._
[100] Jeayes, _Derbyshire Charters_, Nos. 560, 1429.
In giving the title “Hugh of Lincoln” to the Derbyshire version of
the ballad which follows, regard has been had to the precedent set by
others, for the ballad is usually so entitled. The Derbyshire version,
here first printed, is valuable not only for the literary beauty which
two or three of its lines display, but for the association of the story
of the Golden Ball with that of the Maid saved from the Gallows. I have
added the words “Or the Rain Charm” to the title, because I believe
that such is the subject of the ballad. But the reader will be able
to distinguish tradition from inference, and to form his own opinion.
I would add that a better version of the ballad may yet exist at
Wirksworth or in some other part of the county. We may regret that in
its present form it is corrupt; indeed, no two versions are alike. But
it is the duty of the collector to write down such things as he finds
them, without altering a syllable. He may conjecture, if he likes, that
such a phrase as “playing at ice and ball” requires emendation, but he
is not at liberty to alter the spoken words.
Hugh of Lincoln; or the Rain Charm
In the summer of 1901 the following fragment of a ballad was dictated
to me by Mrs. Johnston, then aged 55, the wife of the landlord of the
“Peak” Hotel at Castleton, in Derbyshire. Mrs. Johnston says that she
learnt it from her mother, Mrs. Fletcher, who resided at Wirksworth,
in the same county, when she was young, and died in 1904. Mrs. Johnston
does not remember that the ballad had any title, or was sung to any
tune:—
It rains, it rains in merry Scotland,
It rains both thick and small:
There were three little playfellows
Playing at ice and ball.
They threw it high, they threw it low,
They threw it rather too high,
They threw it into the Jew’s garden,
And there the ball must lie.
“Come in, come in, thou little palarp,[101]
And thou shalt have thy ball.”
“I won’t come in, I daren’t come in,
Without my playmates all.”
They showed him apples as green as grass,
They gave him sugar so sweet,
[101] My informant did not know the meaning of this word. It is
accented on the final syllable.
* * * * *
They put him on a dresser ta’
To stab him like a sheep.
* * * * *
“O hangman, hangman, stay thy hand,
A little before I die,
I think I see my father coming,
Hastening through yonder sty [path].
O father hast thou brought my ball,
Or hast thou bought me free,
Or art thou come to see me hung
Upon the gallows-tree?”
“I have not brought thy ball, my dear,
I have not bought thee free,
But I have come to see thee hung
Upon the gallows-tree.”
[The father and the mother then appear upon the “sty,” when the same
request is made to the hangman in respect of each of them, and when
they both declare that they have not brought the ball, etc. At last
comes the sweetheart, who says:—]
“I have brought thy ball, my dear,
And I have bought thee free,
And I have brought a coach and six
To take thee away with me.”
During the same summer, I heard in Castleton this fragment of a story:—
Once upon a time a little girl had a golden ball bought her. One day
her parents had gone away, and before going they told her if she lost
her ball the _magician_ who gave it her would hang her. After they had
gone she began playing with the ball, and, as it happened, it went
into a brook at the back of the _magician’s_ house. She cried till she
thought she would tell her father she had lost her golden ball. When
she met him she began saying:—
Father, father, have you brought my golden ball
Or have you come to _set me free_,
Or have you come to see me hung
Upon that gallant tree?”
[The same question is repeated to the mother, brother, and sister,
and cousins, and last of all to the sweetheart, who says that he has
not come to see her hung, and stoops down and kisses her. They were
married and happy ever after.][102]
[102] Told to me by Sarah Ellen Potter, aged 14, the daughter of Mr.
George Potter, of Castleton.
No fewer than eighteen other versions of the ballad here printed have
been published.[103] With one exception, these other versions omit the
lines about the hangman and the child’s escape from the gallows. But in
other respects they substantially agree in the story which they tell. A
number of children are playing at ball, when one of them accidentally
throws it into a Jew’s garden. The Jew’s daughter entices the boy to
come in and fetch the ball. He is then laid on a dressing-board, and
stabbed to the heart with a penknife, “like a swine,” or, as four of
the versions have it, “like a sheep.” His body is then encased in lead,
or in “a quire of tin,” and thrown into a draw-well. His mother goes
forth to seek him, when he answers from the well, and bids her make
his winding-sheet. The scene is variously laid in “merry Scotland,” in
the city of Lincoln, in “Mirryland town,” in “Maitland town,” and in
“Merrycock land.”[104] In version F of Prof. Child’s collection the
time is “a summer’s morning,” and in version N we are told that the
deed was done “on a May, on a Midsummer’s day.”
[103] In Prof. Child’s _English and Scottish Popular Ballads_, part v.,
p. 233 _seq._
[104] As regards “Mirryland town,” it appears that the soil of the
Morayland, in North-East Scotland, is gravelly, and much improved by
summer rains. Hence the distich:—
A misty May and a dropping June
Brings the bonny land of Moray aboon.
—Chambers, _Popular Rhymes of Scotland_, new ed., p. 269.
In a story called “The Three Golden Balls,” reported from Romsey, in
Hampshire,[105] three girls called Pepper, Salt, and Mustard have each
of them a golden ball. They play with the balls, and Pepper loses hers.
Her mother is angry, and Pepper is hung on the gallows-tree. Next day
her father goes to her, and she says:—
[105] _Folk-lore_, vol. vi., p. 306.
“Oh, father have you found my ball,
Or have you _paid my fee_,
Or have you come to take me down
From this old gallows tree?”
This Hampshire version is much degraded, but it mentions _three
girls_, and is also important as showing that the one who was chosen
for sacrifice might be ransomed, as in the Derbyshire version, and so
escape death, if her father or her sisters would pay the proper fee.
They refuse, however, and the girl is redeemed by her sweetheart. In
this respect the Hampshire story resembles the Derbyshire metrical
version, in which the child is at last “bought free.” I shall refer to
the subject of redemption further on.
The concluding part of the Derbyshire version appears at first sight
to be inconsistent with the first part, inasmuch as the child’s
death seems to have been caused both by stabbing with a knife and by
suspension on a gallows. The version, however, is quite consistent with
itself, for the child was first stabbed and then suspended with the
head downwards.
At the present day an English butcher who is about to kill a sheep
lays it on a trestle. He then sticks a knife into the jugular vein,
and leaves the sheep for a short time on the trestle until it is quite
dead. Afterwards he skins and dresses it, and then he passes a piece
of wood through the sinews of the hind legs. From this piece of wood
it is hung, by means of a hook, head downwards from a transverse bar.
In former times a transverse wooden bar appears to have been used
instead of an iron bar, and to have been called the “gallows-tree”
(the gallows being the two upright posts), just as the transverse bar
from which the cauldron was hung in the kitchens of old houses was
called the “galley-balk.” On turning to the word “gallows” in the _New
English Dictionary_, I find three quotations from modern books, in
which slaughtered sheep or cattle are described as being hung on the
gallows. The first is from Lady Barker’s _Station Life in New Zealand_,
1866 (x. 64), in which the gallows is described as “a high wooden frame
from which the carcasses of the butchered sheep dangle.” The third
is from Boldrewood’s _Colonial Reformer_, 1891, p. 350, where the
“gallows” of the colonists is described as “a rough, rude contrivance
consisting of two uprights and a cross-piece for elevating slaughtered
cattle.” One can hardly doubt that these colonists were adopting a
practice once followed in the mother country, and, accordingly, the
apparent inconsistency between the concluding part of the Derbyshire
version and the first part of that version disappears. The child was
first stabbed “like a sheep,” and then hung, as a sheep was, on a
gallows-tree or transverse piece of wood. This suspension was identical
with crucifixion on a Tau-cross, or _crux commissa_.
Amongst the versions of the ballad given by Prof. Child is a fragment,
numbered L, which was supplied to him by the late Canon Venables,
Precentor of Lincoln, and which came from Buckinghamshire. It was told
to Canon Venables about the year 1825. On this, Prof. Child remarks,
in a note, that “the singer tagged on to this fragment version C of
the Maid freed from the Gallows given at II., 352.” The portion of
the story which Prof. Child calls “the Maid freed from the Gallows”
can hardly have been “tagged on.” It is found in Derbyshire and
Buckinghamshire, and the metre of both portions is the same. And the
lost ball occurs in both.
It remains to show for what reason the child was sacrificed. Ten of
the versions published by Prof. Child begin by mentioning the falling
rain—a thing which at first sight appears to have nothing to do with
the matter. Thus in the Shropshire version we have:—
“It rains, it rains, in Merry-Cock land,
It hails, it rains both great and small.”[106]
[106] Child, _ut supra_, referring to Miss Burne’s _Shropshire
Folk-lore_, p. 539.
And in the copy taken by Prof. Child from Brydges’s _Restituta_, we
have:—
“It rains, it rains in merry Scotland,
It rains both great and small.”
The Derbyshire version, as we have seen, begins by saying that the rain
is falling “both thick and small.”
Now it is remarkable that seven of the versions given by Prof. Child
refer to the victim’s blood, as it flowed from the wound, as being both
thick and thin. Thus in the version taken from Percy’s _Reliques_, we
have:—
“And out and cam the thick, thick bluid,
And out and cam the thin.”
Obviously the falling rain, which seems at first sight to enter so
needlessly into numerous versions of the story, would have a great
deal to do with the matter if the shedding of the child’s blood
were intended to be an act of imitative magic simulating, and hence
producing, rain. In Central Australia men are bled with a sharp flint,
and “the blood is thought to represent rain.” And “in Java, when rain
is wanted, two men will sometimes thrash each other with supple rods
till the blood flows down their backs; the streaming blood represents
the rain, and no doubt is supposed to make it fall on the ground.”[107]
[107] Frazer’s _Golden Bough_, i., pp. 86, 88, and the authorities
there cited.
We know from other traditions that children were sacrificed, if not
in Great Britain, at least elsewhere, with the intention of once more
filling the dry beds of rivers. The Rev. Joseph Hunter (1783–1861) has
recorded these lines about the English river Dun, or Don:—
“The shelving, slimy, river Dun,
Each year a daughter or a son.”[108]
[108] Hunter’s MSS. in the British Museum.
The Rev. W. Gregor has told us that the Scottish river Spey “is spoken
of as ‘she,’ and bears the character of being ‘bloodthirsty.’ The
common belief is that ‘she’ must have at least one victim yearly.
“The rhyme about the [Scottish] rivers Dee and Don and their victims
is:—
“‘Bloodthirsty Dee,
Each year needs three;
But bonny Don,
She needs none.’”[109]
[109] _Folk-lore_, iii., 72.
There were German rivers which required their victim on Midsummer
Day,[110] and this, as we have seen, is the very day mentioned in
one of the versions of our ballad. In nine of the versions given by
Prof. Child, the body of the little victim is thrown into a draw-well,
after having been rolled, as some of the versions say, in a “case,” or
“cake,” of lead. The throwing of the body into a well was doubtless
intended as a further rain-charm, just as, to give a single example,
the man who gave the last stroke at threshing in the Tyrol was flung
into the river.[111] It appears from the _Annals of Waverley_,[112]
that the body of Hugh of Lincoln was first thrown into a running
stream, and ejected by the stream. It was afterwards thrown into a
drinking well.
[110] Frazer’s _Golden Bough_, 2nd edit., i., pp. 86, 88.
[111] Frazer’s _Golden Bough_, iii., 318. See also Hartland, _Legend of
Perseus_, iii., 73 _seq._ Mr. Hartland shows how widely spread was the
custom of offering sacrifice to water. As late as the beginning of the
nineteenth century firstborn children, according to Mr. Crooke, were
offered to the Ganges.
[112] Child, _ut supra_, citing _Annales Monastici_, ed. Luard, ii.,
346 _seq._
A few words must be said about the Jew, or Jew’s daughter, mentioned in
the different versions of the ballad and in the chronicles. We ought
not to overlook the fact that the Jews at an early period of their
history sacrificed, and at a later period redeemed, their first-born
children, as many passages in Exodus and Numbers plainly indicate.
But to say, as Matthew Paris does, that the Jews of Lincoln stole a
boy named Hugh, and scourged, crowned, and crucified him, as a parody
of the crucifixion of Jesus, is to make a very large demand on our
credulity. The Jews of Lincoln were not at all likely to have risked
their lives and property by such an act of wanton and hideous cruelty.
Nor is the evidence afforded by the different versions of the ballad
sufficient to establish the fact that the Jews sacrificed children in
Great Britain for any purpose or in any way. These different versions
seem to have all sprung from the same original, and the thing to be
tested is the credibility of that original. Its value as evidence
against the Jews in Britain is impaired by the different places in
which the deed is alleged to have been done, and, moreover, we have
seen that the prose version from Castleton speaks of a “magician,” not
a Jew. Still more is the evidence vitiated by the existence of that
well-known popular hatred of the Jews, which gave rise to all sorts of
libels and slanders. A good example of this hatred appeared in London
as late as 1758, when a man—
“published a sensational account of a cruel murder committed by
certain Jews said to have lately arrived from Portugal, and then
living near Broad Street. They were said to have burnt a woman and a
new-born babe, because its father was a Christian. Certain Jews who
had arrived from Portugal, and who then lived in Broad Street, were
attacked by the mob, barbarously treated, and their lives endangered.
A criminal information was granted, although it was objected that
it did not appear precisely who were the persons accused of the
murder.”[113]
[113] Odgers on _Libel_, 1896, p. 445.
What the evidence does suggest is the former existence of a custom of
sacrificing children to make rain. It is not even alleged that the Jews
sacrificed children to the Spey, the Dee, or the Don.
There is, however, a document of much greater evidential value than
ballads and chronicles, which declares that a boy was crucified by Jews
at Lincoln. In the _Hundred Rolls_ for 3 Edward I. (1274), a sworn jury
found that “certain land in the parish of St. Martin [in Lincoln],
which belonged to Leo the Jew, who was condemned for the death of a
crucified boy, and which land was then in the tenure of William Badde,
was forfeited to the King as from the year 1256.”[114]
[114] “Item dicunt quod quædam terra quæ fuit Leonis judei dampnati pro
morte pueri crucefixi quam Willelmus Badde tenet in parochia Sancti
Martini est eschaeta domini Regis ab anno regni R.R.R. xljo, et valet
xx_s_ per annum.—_Rotuli Hundredorum_, i., 322. There is a similar
entry a few lines below.
That Leo the Jew was condemned for the crucifixion of a boy will hardly
be doubted. That the sentence was just and founded on sufficient
evidence is quite another matter. There may have been as little
evidence against the Jews of Lincoln in 1256 as there was against the
Portuguese Jews in London in 1758.
Although the evidence against the Jews with reference to the subject
which we are considering cannot be admitted as valid, we must not
conceal the fact that this people at an early period of their history
sacrificed their firstborn children. The story of Abraham’s intended
sacrifice of his son Isaac should lead us to suspect the early
existence of this custom. Dr. Frazer says that “the god of the Hebrews
plainly regarded the firstborn of men and the firstlings of animals as
his own,” the firstborn of men being generally redeemed.[115] And he
asks the question: “If the firstborn of men and cattle were ransomed by
a money payment, has not this last provision the appearance of being a
later mitigation of an older and harsher custom which doomed firstborn
children to the altar or the fire?” He then discusses the Passover,
and suggests that “the slaughter of firstborn children was formerly
what the slaughter of firstborn cattle always continued to be, not an
isolated butchery, but a regular custom, which, with the growth of more
humane sentiments, was afterwards softened into the vicarious sacrifice
of a lamb and the payment of a ransom for each child.”
[115] See _Golden Bough_, ii., 45 _seq._, and especially the citations
from Numbers and Exodus on p. 46.
The evidence which we have been examining does not mention the
firstborn. But it tells us that the child devoted to sacrifice could be
redeemed on payment of a “fee.” It is probable that those versions of
our ballad which end by the throwing of the body into a well, represent
the actual custom of early times when no redemption was possible. The
father and mother may have regarded it as a duty that their child
should become a victim, on the ground that it was better that he should
die than that a whole tribe should perish of drought and famine.
No tale has been more popular among English children than that which is
usually called “The Golden Ball.” In some form or other every collector
has heard it.[116] However much this tale may have been worn down in
the course of ages, it is still repeated with emphasis. If ever there
was a time when the blood of little children was shed, or when their
dripping bodies hung from a gallows-tree, to make the rain fall, how
could the memory of such a horror, and of deliverance from such a
death, fail to be preserved in ballad or in story?
[116] A Yorkshire version, much debased, is given in the first edition
of Henderson’s _Notes on the Folk-lore of the Northern Counties of
England_, p. 333. It was collected by the Rev. S. Baring-Gould.
The Glass House[117]
[117] Told to me by Sarah Ellen Potter, aged 14, the daughter of Mr.
George Potter, of Castleton, Derbyshire, in 1901. Compare Grimm’s
_Kinder-und Haus Märchen_, No. 47, and Addy’s _Household Tales_, No. 10.
There was a little girl selling oranges, and she went to a lady’s
house, which was made of glass. It had glass doors, and everything was
glass. The girl asked her if she would purchase of her oranges, and
the lady said she would have them all if her mother would let her come
and be her little servant. So her mother let her go. One day she was
cleaning the glass window, when it broke. Then she broke the floor, and
when her mistress went to change her dress the little girl ran outside
to the gooseberry tree, and she said:—
“Gooseberry tree, gooseberry tree, hide me
For fear my mistress should find me,
For if she does she’ll break my bones,
And bury me under the marble stones.”
And the gooseberry tree said, “Go to the butcher’s.” And when she got
to the butcher’s, she said:—
“Butcher, butcher, hide me,” etc.
But the butcher said, “Go to the baker.” And when she got there, she
said:—
“Baker, baker, hide me,” etc.
And the baker said, “Get into this bread box.” And she got in, and he
nailed it up. While she was at the baker’s, her mistress had been to
the gooseberry tree, and it told her it had sent the little girl to
the butcher. When her mistress got to the butcher’s, he said he had
sent her to the baker’s. So she went to the baker’s, and he told her
to go away; but she said she would let his house be searched, and she
commenced. But when she came to the box that was nailed she shivered,
and she made him undo the nails, and out came the girl. So her mistress
took her with her, and as they were crossing a river the girl’s
mistress was leaning over a bridge, when the girl gave her a push, and
she fell over and was drowned. And the little girl went singing merrily
till she got to the glass house, and kept it as her own.
Peggy with the Wooden Leggy[118]
[118] Told to me by Florence Cooper, of the Peak Hotel, Castleton,
Derbyshire, in 1901. A much inferior version called “The Golden
Arm” was collected by the Rev. S. Baring-Gould in Devonshire. It is
printed in the first edition of Henderson’s _Folk-lore of the Northern
Counties_.
Once upon a time there lived together a very rich gentleman and his
wife, and they had a young and beautiful child—one of the fairest earth
had seen. She had bright golden hair. Her eyes were blue, and her
teeth like pearls from the ocean. Her parents loved her very dearly,
and if in their power would grant her every wish that she asked. But
Peggy fell down and broke her leg, and her father bought her a wooden
one. And with Peggy having a wooden leg, the children called her Peggy
Wooden Leg, and her father didn’t like that name. And at last, thinking
that something was wrong with her, he bought her a cork one, and then
they called her Peggy Cork Leg. And going into a shop one day, she
asked the shopman if he could change her leg for a golden one. At last
she was taken ill, and died, and the butler of her father’s house,
thinking it was a sin to let her be buried in her golden leg, stole it,
and hid it in his box. He was asleep one night, and he thought he heard
a knock, knock, knocking at the door. He said, “Now, bother me, what’s
that? No ghosts here.” On turning the bedclothes down he lay aghast,
for there at the foot of the bed stood the ghost of beautiful Peggy,
not as he had seen her the day before, beautiful as marble, but with
features without flesh, sockets without eyes, head without hair, and
mouth without teeth. He was terrified, but he thought he would speak to
her, and he says, “Peggy, is that you?” And she replied, “Yes; ’tis I.”
Then he says, “Peggy, where are those beautiful blue eyes of yours?”
She said, “They are worm-eaten and gone.”
And he said, “Where are those beautiful pearl teeth of yours?”
She said, “Worm-eaten and gone.”
And he said, “Where are those beautiful golden locks?”
And she said, “Worm-eaten and gone.”
Then he said, “Where is that beautiful golden leg of yours?”
And she said, “You—have—got it!!!” and vanished through the floor.[119]
[119] _Cf._ Pythagoras and his golden leg, referred to by Frazer,
_Golden Bough_, ii., 418; also the story about Isis, who, when she
collected the scattered limbs of Osiris, replaced the missing member
with one of wood.—Plutarch, _Isis et Osiris_, 18.
MISCELLANEOUS FOLK-LORE
A Skull as the Protector of a House
At Tunstead, between Chapel-en-le-Frith and Whaley Bridge, a skull in
three pieces has long been kept inside the window of a house. It is
known as Dicky Tunstead. If the skull is taken away, things will go
wrong in the house and on the land. When the house was being rebuilt
and new windows put in, they set Dicky on a couple beam in the barn,
and thought they had done with him, and would hear no more of him; but
at the rearing supper he made such a disturbance that they had to bring
him back into the house. Dicky appears in all kinds of shapes—sometimes
as a dog, and sometimes as a young lady in a silk dress. In whatever
form he appears, he will point to something amiss if you will follow
him. One of the “quarrels” of glass in the window where Dicky is is
always out, and if it is put in it is always found taken out again next
morning.[120]
[120] See _Laxdæla Saga_, 17 and 24. For another version of this story
see Mr. Le Blanc Smith’s article in the _Reliquary_ (new series), vol
xi., p. 228.
* * * * *
I was told that at Dunscar, a farmhouse in the parish of Castleton,
there is a human skull on the outside of a window sill. If it is
removed, the crops fare badly. I went to the farmhouse myself, and
found no skull there, and the tenant who had lived there many years had
never heard of such a thing.
Christmas Eve
In Bradwell Christmas Eve is known as Mischief Night. On that evening
gates are pulled off and hung in trees, and farmers’ carts are taken
away. They sometimes find them in the morning in a brook at the bottom
of the hill. On a certain Mischief Night a farmer was pushing a cart
down a steep hill into the brook with great eagerness, not knowing that
it was his own cart. He said to his companions, “layt it choiz,”[121]
_i.e._, let it down gently.
[121] I do not understand this word.
New Year
If you see the first new moon in the New Year through a glass there
will be a death in the family.
At Great Hucklow they say that if you put clothes out on New Year’s Day
there will be a death in the family before the end of the year.
Easter Observances
At Castleton and Bradwell, and in other villages of the High Peak,
Easter Monday is known as Unlousing Day, _i.e._, releasing day. When a
young woman came out of a house on the morning of that day the young
men used to say “kiss or cuck.” If the girls refused the kiss the young
men came in the evening and “cucked” them, _i.e._, tossed them up.
The young women at Castleton used to “cuck” the young men on Easter
Tuesday, and a tale is told there about a young man who was “cucked”
so often on Easter Tuesday that he fell on his knees and implored an
old woman who was driving a cow home not to “cuck” him. If the girl
accepted the proffered kiss she was released, _i.e._, she escaped being
tossed.
At Castleton the boys also kissed the girls on Valentine’s Day, and the
schoolmaster had to let the girls go home before the boys to prevent
the boys from kissing them.
“Cucking” was a very rough practice, and it sometimes led to charges
of assault being made before the magistrates. At Castleton it was
sometimes done by putting a “fork stale” or fork handle under the
girl’s legs and lifting her up. It required two young men to do this.
More frequently two men seized a girl by the arms and shoulders, tossed
her up, and caught her as she fell. It is said at Bradwell that more
girls were seen out on Unlousing Day than on any other day. The day is
sometimes known as Cucking Day.
At Bradwell and Castleton parents tell their children to put pins
into wells on Palm Sunday, or if they fail to do so they will break
their bottles on the following Easter Monday. The pins must be new and
straight, not crooked. I have talked to children who have done this,
and one of them, a girl about fourteen years old, said the children go
in great numbers on the afternoon of Palm Sunday to a well in Bradwell,
“behind Micklow.” She took me to the well herself in October, 1901. It
is divided into two parts by the boundary wall of a field, and is so
small that I should never have found it alone. The Bradwell children
used also to drop pins on this day into a well in Charlotte Lane, and
also into a pond between Bradwell and Brough. Mr. Robert Bradwell, of
Bradwell, aged 88, told me that on Palm Sunday “the children used to
put new pins into lady wells, and the lady of the well would not let
them have clean water unless they did that.” There is a lady well at
the back of the castle at Castleton, from which the children used to
fill their bottles at Easter, and there is another at Great Hucklow,
or Big Hucklow, as some call it, from which they filled their bottles.
Mr. Bradwell said the object of the children was “to get clean water
by the lady’s influence. They had to do what the lady required. It was
a fairy, or else an insect. On Easter Monday, a father or mother would
say to a child, ‘If tha’s put no new pin in, there’ll be no clean water
for thee.’” Mrs. Harriet Middleton, aged 83, once lost her slippers in
the snow when she was going to put a pin in the well near Micklow. She
and other young girls would have gone through snow or any weather to
put them in.
[Illustration: The Keep: Peverel Castle.]
[Illustration: Little Hucklow: Folk-Collector’s Summer House.]
At Castleton, Bradwell, and other places in the neighbourhood, Easter
Monday is known as Shakking Monday. At Bradwell the children get glass
bottles, such as medicine bottles, and fill them with water. They then
put in pieces of peppermint cakes of various colours, but generally
pink. These peppermint cakes are quite different from ordinary
peppermint lozenges. They are big things, two or three inches wide,
and are square or oblong in shape. The children break them up, put the
broken pieces into the bottles, shake the mixture, and drink it. Some
of the children tie the bottles round their necks. The sweetened water
lasts for many days, and they take a drink of it from time to time. At
Castleton and Aston the children put Spanish juice or “pink musks” into
the water.
They say at Bradwell that unless you wear something new on Easter
Sunday the birds will drop their excrement on you.
On Good Friday the lead-miners of Bradwell would on no account go into
the mines. They would do any other kind of work on that day.
Shrove Tuesday Custom
About Whaley, near Chapel-en-le-Frith, they used to bake pancakes
(which are eaten as soon as they are ready) on Pancake Day, _i.e._,
Shrove Tuesday. If a girl could not eat a pancake between the time when
the last pancake was done and a fresh pancake was ready, she was thrown
into a gooseberry bush or upon the ash midden. At Abney on this day
they called the one who was last in bed the “bed-churl” or “bed-churn,”
and they threw him or her on the ash-midden. It was a common thing in
the village to ask who had been the “bed-churl” that day.
Yule Loaf, Posset, and Candle
On Christmas Eve at Bradwell they have a large candle on the table and
a large bowl of posset, which is made of ale and milk. They all sit
round the table whilst the candle is burning, put their spoons into
the bowl, and sup from them. The grocers still give candles to their
regular customers for this purpose.
Mrs. George Middleton, of Smalldale, told me that the posset bowl used
on Christmas Eve in that hamlet is a pancheon or milk bowl. They sit
round the table, and put their spoons into the bowl. Any stranger who
happens to come in can also put his spoon in. Posset is made of milk,
which is warmed and spiced with nutmeg, ale being poured in until it
“breaks” or curds. The Yule loaf was baked all in one piece. It was
“like a round loaf put on the top of a four pound loaf.”
Robert Bradwell, of Bradwell, aged 88, said that the posset pot went
round the table from one to another. There was a bit of a figure on the
top of the Yule loaf to please the eye. The Yule candle was much longer
than an ordinary candle.
The last of the Cave-dwellers
Two old women, called Betty Blewit and Sall Waugh, lived in a hut
within the opening of the great cave at Castleton. It was one storey
high; it had a mud roof, and “a bit of a lead window in front.” The bed
was in one corner. These old women used to say that they “lived in a
house on which the sun never shone, or the rain ever fell.” They begged
of gentle people in the summer.[122] Writing of the cavern in 1720–31,
the Rev. Thomas Cox says: “Within the arch are several small buildings,
where the poorer sort of people inhabit, who are ready at all times
with lanterns and candles to attend such travellers as are curious to
enquire into these territories of Satan. These people resemble the
Troglydites, or cunicular men, who, as Dr. Brown describes them, lived
under the ground like rabbits.”[123]
[122] Information by Samuel Marrison, of Castleton, aged 88, in 1901.
[123] _Magna Britannia_ (Derbyshire), p. 442.
First Foot
At Castleton a dark-haired man “takes the New Year in” immediately
after twelve o’clock on New Year’s Eve. He must be a dark man, _i.e._,
“a man with a black head or black hair.” The parish clerk who had very
black hair took the New Year in to some houses in Castleton. When
the dark-haired man comes in “a glass of something good is given to
him.” I was told that young dark-haired lads “get a ruck o’ money” in
Castleton for taking the New Year in. Black or dark hair is obligatory
in the High Peak. Miss Barber, of Castleton, aged 76, said that the
black-haired man ought to be a stranger, and not a member of the family
visited. In Bradwell, as in Castleton, the New Year is brought in by a
dark-haired man.[124] The term “first foot” seems to be unknown in the
High Peak.
[124] Near Sheffield the man who brings the New Year in brings with him
a mince pie, a bit of coal, and something to drink, to cause good luck
to the house. At Bradwell they have what they call “lucky bags,” things
being put into them for good luck.
Curfew
At Castleton the curfew bell is known as the “curfer” bell, the accent
falling on the first syllable. It is said to have been rung as a
warning to people coming over the moors. It begins to ring on the 29th
of September, and ends on Shrove Tuesday. On the 29th of September it
rings at seven in the evening, and on the following nights at eight
o’clock. It does not ring on Sundays, or between Shrove Tuesday and
September 29th. Mr. Samuel Marrison, of Castleton, aged 88, said to
me that “people found their way across the hills by the sound of the
bells. There were no walls, and the sound of the bells was a guide.”
An old man in Castleton told me that “they ring curfer because a man
was lost on the hills. The parish clerk rings it on one bell.” I was
surprised to find how many people in Castleton knew the exact times at
which this bell is rung.
Good Times
In Bradwell they speak of “a good time as a wakes time.” One of the
lead-miner’s customary rules declared “that the bar-master, by the
consent of the jury, shall make a lawful dish between the buyers and
the sellers of lead ore; and against a good time (or festival) as
Christmas, Easter, and Whitsuntide, etc., shall give to the poor two
dishes, if need require.”[125]
[125] Hardy’s _Miner’s Guide_, Sheffield, 1748, p. 28.
Vows under the Shadow of a Hill
If lovers make vows to each other under the shadow of the castle hill
at Castleton, those vows must never be broken. If broken, their love
affairs will never prosper.
Thar-Cake Joinings
At Bradwell, on the fifth of November, they make a quantity of
thar-cake (in South Yorkshire called tharf-cake), and divide it among
the different members of the family, as the father, mother, brothers,
and sisters. This is called a thar-cake joining. One Bradwell man will
say to another, “Have you joined yet?” meaning “Have you made your
thar-cake?”
Another informant told me that a “thar-cake join” was a kind of
feast among children, and it used to be very common in Bradwell on
the fifth of November. The children asked somebody to make the cake,
and each of them paid his or her proportion towards the cost of the
ingredients—meal, treacle, etc. They had coffee, etc., with the
cake. The Primitive Methodists in Bradwell have now what they call a
“thar-cake supper.” It is held on the Saturday which is nearest to the
fifth of November.
Burial Customs
At Castleton burying cakes and warm ale were handed round at funerals.
Burying cakes, said one of my informants, were three-cornered, and
big enough to be carried under the arm. But another informant said
they were round, and seven or eight inches across. They cut them into
slices, and handed them round with warm ale.
At Castleton the funerals of poor people were known as “pay-buryings.”
The guests used to give something towards the expenses, and an old
woman with a white cap on used to sit in a chair in the corner, or in
an armchair by the fire, and receive the money.
At Bradwell an old farmer called Jacob Eyre was expected to attend all
funerals. A basket like a butter basket hung on one of his arms, and
with the other arm he used to “deal out” pieces of bread to children
standing round the door. Plenty of children gathered together at the
funerals for the sake of the bread. The pieces of bread were three or
four inches square, and they were either got from a bakehouse, or the
relatives made it themselves. The old man was “very complimentary” to
the children. He pleased them, joked, and made them laugh. What he said
was very pleasant and nice. It was a regular custom in Bradwell, but it
was not continued after Jacob Eyre’s death. He died many years ago.[126]
[126] Information by Robert Bradwell, of Bradwell, formerly a lead-mine
owner, aged 88, and given by him to me in 1901. Among the directions
which William Percy gave to his executors in 1344 was one which obliged
his executors, on peril of their souls, not to let a poor man depart
from his funeral without receiving a penny, or the equivalent of a
penny in bread.—_Testamenta Ebor._ (Surtees Society), i. p. 6.
Mrs. George Middleton, of Smalldale, widow, aged 45, said that her
mother used to dress coffins with flowers at Abney, where she lived.
But she did not put thyme on them, for she said “they had nothing to
do with time.” But she said that whenever one of the Twelve Oddfellows
at Bradwell dies, the survivors march before his coffin and sing, each
surviving oddfellow carrying a sprig of thyme in his hand, which he
drops on the coffin. Mrs. Middleton thought that one of their printed
rules provided for this being done, but I did not find it in them. Mrs.
Middleton said that her mother was present at all births and laying out
of corpses at Abney, not as part of her duty, but because she liked to
be there. “Funeral bread,” she said, “was made in a peculiar way.” Mrs.
Middleton said it was the custom at Abney to put thyme in a house after
a death and before the funeral, and also southern wood, old man, or
lad’s love, these being names for the same plant.
In Eyam there was a “custom of anointing deceased children with
May-dew.”[127]
[127] Bagshaw’s _History, Gazetteer, and Directory of Derbyshire_,
1846, p. 497.
Wakes
At Thornhill near Hope they have two barrels of ale at the wakes, and
they feast in a barn. They dance and sing.
Mr. Robert Bradwell, of Bradwell, aged 88, told me in 1901 that “every
day weakened the wake time. A few old women used to stand across the
road at Castleton at the end of the wake week with a rope to keep the
wakes in. There is only one road in Castleton—that leading from Hope.”
Mr. Bradwell said he had never seen a rope tied across the road to keep
the wakes in, and that it was a superstition by which they intended to
prolong the wakes. I put questions to many people in Castleton about
this, but found nobody who had heard of it.
At Bradwell wakes, which begin on the second Sunday in July, children
got their new clothes, and all sorts of cleaning and whitewashing were
done against that time. At Castleton also the children had new clothes,
and the houses were whitewashed. They “fettled and cleaned for the
wakes.”[128]
[128] Mrs. Johnston, of the Peak Hotel, Castleton, told me that at
Morley, near Leeds, any neighbour could come into a house on the Sunday
morning when the feast began and take a sop out of the pan. They walked
straight in and helped themselves. English wakes seem to correspond
to the festival of new fruits in other countries. On this subject see
Frazer, _Golden Bough_, ii., 326 _seq._
At Castleton on wakes even, _i.e._, on the Saturday night before the
feast begins, they pulled trees up in gardens, hung gates in trees, hid
the farmers’ carts, and took them anywhere.
Offerings to the Fairies
A Derbyshire man, aged about 55, said that his grandmother used to
tell him that if you made the hearth very tidy before you went to bed,
and put a little food on it, you would find the room swept and tidy
next morning. He remembers trying this experiment when a boy, and the
disappointment he felt when the desired result was not produced.
“Sweeping the Girl” on St. Valentine’s Day
“If the lass is not kissed, or does not get a visit from her
sweetheart on St. Valentine’s Day, she is said to be dusty, and the
villagers sweep her with a broom, or a wisp of straw. She is bound,
subsequently, to cast lots with other girls, and finally, if she has
good luck, draws the name of her future husband out of an old top
hat.”[129]
[129] From an article on “Superstitions in the Peak,” in the _Sheffield
Daily Telegraph_, 14th August, 1906. It was written by Mr. John
Pendleton, of Manchester, who has kindly allowed me to mention his name.
Mr. Pendleton tells me in a letter that the custom was observed on the
morning of St. Valentine’s Day in the middle of the last century.
JEDEDIAH STRUTT
By the Hon. Frederick Strutt
Jedediah Strutt, the second of three sons of William Strutt, a farmer
at South Normanton, Derbyshire, was born on July 26th, 1726. His mother
was Martha Statham, of Shottie, a hamlet in the parish of Duffield, at
which church she and William Strutt were married on February 11th, 1724.
Of his elder brother Joseph little is known, except that he went to
London, where he started in some commercial business, and that he
married a Miss Scott.[130]
[130] Joseph Strutt went to London early in life, and we believe
ultimately kept a shop there. He married in the year 1755 a Miss Scott,
and from this marriage the Strutts known as the Strutts of Tutbury
are descended. His two daughters married in succession Mr. Joseph
Chamberlain. From the second of these marriages is descended the Right
Hon. Joseph Chamberlain, late Secretary of State for the Colonies, etc.
Jedediah’s education can have been only that of a country school of
those days, though it is but fair to surmise that his father must have
been a man superior to the farmers and yeomen of his day, otherwise his
sons, Jedediah in particular, could not have been so successful in the
respective occupations of their after life.
Mr. Felkin[131] tells us that in very early years Jedediah’s thoughts
took an eminently practical turn, and that as a boy he occupied himself
in making toy water-mills on a small brook, in endeavouring even to
improve his father’s plough, and in other ingenious pastimes. The
writer of this memoir is unaware from what source Mr. Felkin obtained
his information as to the early tastes and occupations of Jedediah, but
as he (Mr. Felkin) was a friend of the first Lord Belper, the grandson
of Jedediah, the writer feels confident that nothing was inserted in
Mr. Felkin’s account that had not Lord Belper’s full knowledge and
approval.
[131] _A History of Machine-wrought Hosiery and Lace Manufacture_, by
W. Felkin, 1867.
It is at all events clear that at fourteen years of age Jedediah had
shown a greater taste for mechanics than for husbandry, for he was
then apprenticed by his father to a Mr. Ralph Massey, a wheelwright of
Findern, a village about five miles from Derby, and twenty miles from
his paternal home. It was to this apprenticeship, and to this life at
Findern, that Jedediah Strutt owed a great part of his success in after
life, and it is interesting to know that the document of the original
indenture, of which a _facsimile_ is given, is in the hands of and
prized by his great-grandson, the second Lord Belper.
At Findern, Jedediah was put to lodge with a family of the name
of Woollatt, who were what were called hosiers (_i.e._, hosiery
manufacturers in a small way); it was, as we shall see, from his
intimacy with this family that a great deal of his success in after
life emanated.
It may be presumed that William Strutt’s family were not members of
the Church of England, but belonged to the Presbyterian, or, as it was
called in later years, Unitarian persuasion. Whether that was so or
not, the Woollatts at all events belonged to that sect, and sat under a
Dr. Ebenezer Latham, who was a scholar of some repute, and had chapels
both at Findern and at Caldwell.
Jedediah Strutt, we know, served the full time of his apprenticeship at
Findern, and after that was in service or employment at Leicester, or
at Belgrave, near that town, for a period of about seven years.
[Illustration: Apprenticeship Indenture of Jedediah Strutt, 1740.]
It must have been about the year 1754, when he was twenty-eight
years of age, that an uncle, who was a farmer at Blackwell, the
parish next to South Normanton, died; he left his stock on the farm
to Jedediah, with the idea, we suppose, that he would succeed him as
tenant. This legacy seems to have been sufficient to induce Jedediah
to give up his employment, whatever it was, near Leicester, and return
to the land or to husbandry. It served also as a reason for thinking
he was in a position to marry. We find him, therefore, almost at once,
after settling at Blackwell, writing to Elizabeth Woollatt, with whom
he had been ever since his residence at Findern, now more than eight
years before, on terms of intimacy if not of affection. Miss Woollatt
had during that time been very little at home, but had been out in
service, and at the time of Jedediah’s proposal was acting as servant
or housekeeper to a Dr. Benson, an eminent Presbyterian divine in the
east of London, who had written several works on divinity, and who has
in more recent days been deemed worthy of a place in the _Dictionary of
National Biography_.
The characteristic letter containing Jedediah’s proposal to Elizabeth
Woollatt, which we are about to give, is a long one, but it is rather
typical of the writer, and is also worth inserting as a proof of how
well he, who was little above a working man in position, had managed to
educate himself.
“J. Strutt to Elizabeth Woollatt.
“Blackwell
“Feby 3^{rd} 1755
“Dear Betty,
“Since our first acquaintance, which is now many years ago, I have
often wrote to you but never in a strain like this; nor did I think I
ever should for though we were then more intimately acquainted than
since and though then I thought you had some degree of kindness for
me, yet as my conduct and behaviour to you has been such as could
neither raise nor continnue your regard, together with the years that
have passed since then, (for time often puts a period to love as well
as all other events) I did not think you could remember me with the
least pleasure or satisfaction but rather the contrary; but when I
was at London and had the opportunity of seeing you something or
other told me (though perhaps nothing more than the last glance of
your eye when I bade you farewell) that you looked on me with an eye
of tenderness nay, one is so apt to speak as they wish I had liked
to have said love; and if so that one generous instance of truth and
constancey has made a greater and more lasting impression on my mind
than all the united claims of beauty wit and fortune of your sex so
far as I have had opportunity of conversing, were ever able to make;
therefore it is upon this foundation I promise to tell you that from a
wandering inconstant and roving swain I am become entirely yours!
“I am ready to become all that you could wish me to be if you loved me
and which is all I wish your husband. But suppose I should have gone
too far in this declaration, and my fond observation prove a mistake,
how will you wish, nay rather how impossible would it then be for you
to wish even to call me by that tender name. But let me still suppose
it is not so.... Yet what argument can I use to induce you to leave
London with all the delights it affords, or how persuade you to leave
so good a master who I know values you and whom you both esteem and
love. Here I am at a loss and if you should be indifferent with regard
to me it will be impossible to say anything that will be sufficient.
And indeed I am not inclined to flatter nor to fill your imagination
with fine words only; and this is one of all the realities I can think
of, that it is not impossible but that you may be happy here even tho’
it is true you cannot behold the splendour and the gaiety of a great
city nor the noise and hurry of its inhabitants; yet the London air
is not half so sweet, nor the pleasures half so lasting and sincere.
Here inocense and health more frequently reside; here the beauties
of nature are ever presenting themselves both to our senses and
imaganations; here you may view the rising and the setting sun which
many in London are strangers to; here it is that you may have the
morning and the evening song of many warbling larks and linnets and as
Milton expresses it ‘The shrill matin song of birds on everry bough.’
As to myself fortune has not placed me among the number of the rich
and great and so not subjected me to the many temptations and follies
that attend great men some of which perhaps I should not have been
able to withstand, and others that I should have been loth to bear;
yet by the blessing of heaven I have more then enough for happiness,
and by that means at this season of the year I enjoy many leisure
hours (and all the blessings of leisure and retirement) some of which
I spend in reading and meditation, the rest I dedicate to love and you.
“But I shall forget myself and learn to do a thing I never loved that
is to write long letters, and yet methinks I have a thousand things to
say; but as I had rather you wished I had said more than less nay if
I could have told you all my heart in one word, I should not now have
troubled you with so many; but I have no apology to make, only my
sincerity, and if you read with candour and with the same simplicity
with which I write you will certainly find it sincere. I hope that
will recomment it to your kind reception and obtain if possible an
answer of kindness.
“I saw your brother as I passed through Derby but I did not take
him the books you desired me. I heard from my brother last week and
rejoyce to hear he has been abroad (i e out of the house).
“My father often talks of the Doctor and you and withall knows that I
love you, nay he himself loves you and will be glad to see you here;
and now if ever you had any kindness for me, if ever I did or said
anything to give you either delight or pleasure, let it not be in vain
that I now ask, nor torture me with silence and suspense; by so doing
you will lay the highest obligations on one who is in every sense of
the word
“Your sincere lover
“J Strutt.”
This proposal elicited the following equally characteristic reply:—
“Elizabeth Woollatt to Jedediah Strutt.
“addressed to
“M^r Jedediah Strutt at Blackwell
“to be left at the Bull Inn, Mansfield
“London Feby 15^{th}
“1755
“Yours of the third came safe, which I would have answered before
but had not presence of mind enough for some time to lay it before
my master; at length a favourable opportunity offering itself, my
resolution got the better of my fear, and, after a short introduction
gave him your letter which he said showed you to be a man of sense
and he thought of honour and honesty; but as to himself he was so
surprised, disconcerted and uneasy as I never saw him, and for some
time would say nothing more to me. At length he became able to talk
freely on that head, bid me consult my own happiness and not think
what he suffered. He then offered to make me independent, that so
after his death, I might live where I pleased, not at all intending
that as a dissuasive from accepting your generous offer, but as a
means to prevent my being influenced by any other motive than that
alone which is essential to the most lasting, most perfect happiness.
“Such, such is the behaviour of this god-like man; may he meet all the
reward that such beneficence deserves in both worlds.
“As to myself was I possessed of any desirable qualification, and had
I enjoyed the greatest affluence, I should not then hesitate a moment,
but comply with whatever you will desire; but my consciousness of my
own inferiority in points of fortune as well as anything else, makes
me extremely fearful that you should find cause to repent, when it is
too late; if this should be the case, what I must suffer from what in
me is the least occasion of pain to you, is not for me to say; but be
this as it will, you are and ever will be entitled to the best wishes
of your most humble servant
“E. Woollat.
“My service to your father I wish I better deserved his good opinion.”
Many letters afterwards pass between the happy pair; but their course
of true love runs very smoothly until all is made ready. At the
beginning of September, we find Miss Woollatt coming down from London
to Blackwell to be married. It would certainly have seemed more natural
that she should be married from her father’s house, but that did not
seem to be either possible or advisable under changed circumstances,
as her father had married again, and the step-mother, as is often the
case, seemed to stand rather in the way of the children being at home.
We now, therefore, see Jedediah Strutt happily settled at Blackwell,
apparently ready to remain steadfast to farming, and married to the
excellent and most industrious woman of his affections. It must have
been, however, about the time his first child, William, was born, that
a change came over the scene, and that Jedediah’s strong taste for
mechanics obliged him to think of other things besides his farm.
His brother-in-law, William Woollatt, who had been assisting his father
in the hosiery trade, and till the second marriage had been living at
Findern, knowing Strutt’s bent for mechanics, desired his assistance in
connection with an object which he had at heart, viz., the invention of
a machine for making ribbed hose.
It will be best and most fitting here to give Mr. Felkin’s account of
this invention.[132]
[132] _History of Machine-wrought Hosiery_, by W. Felkin, p. 88.
“Mr. William Woollatt was at that time, 1750, a hosier in Derby.
His attention was directed to the question of how these ribbed hose
could be made, and he brought under the special attention of his
brother-in-law, Mr. Jedediah Strutt, who, though an agriculturist,
had he knew been from his youth engaged in mechanical pursuits as
an occupation of his mind and hands during his leisure time. The
reference thus made proved to be a most successful one. The important
results could not have been at first anticipated, nor even during the
lifetime of Mr. Strutt were they fully understood. But they have been
such as to have given him a just prominence amongst the inventors of
that age, and to require the more extended personal account about to
be given. The very simplicity of the plan he devised and of the mode
of its application to the machine of Lee 170 years after its invention
added to the fact that no historian of the trade wrote during the
next fifty years preclude any very minute details of the obstacles
he encountered. Such an account now would be very interesting, if it
had been forthcoming. Great difficulties there must have been, for
the constructive powers of mechanics in the stocking trade had not a
hundred years ago been employed as they have been since; mainly as
the effect of this effort of Strutt’s genius.... It was now that he,
by Mr. Woollatt’s representations of the difficulty and importance of
the matter then occupying the frame-work knitting world, was induced
to make himself practically acquainted with the principles and the
movements of a stocking frame; probably the most if not the only very
complex machine he had ever seen; and this with the idea no doubt at
first but a remote one of so dealing with it as to cause it to produce
what had hitherto been thought to be beyond its powers. A clergyman
had invented it, why should not a farmer increase its capacity for
usefulness? After much labour, time, and expense, he succeeded
admirably in this by making an addition to it, or rather placing in
front of it so as to work in unison and harmony with it a distinct
apparatus or machine; thus between them to produce the ribbed web of
looped fabric; and not as popularly stated by finding out the defects
of Lee’s frame and devoting himself to its improvement.
... The principle of Strutt’s Derby rib machine remains unaltered;
its operation has been simplified, however, by its subordination to
automatic movement, as will be at once seen on examination of power
hosiery frames lately constructed.”
From this time, though he did not leave his farm at Blackwell at once,
Strutt’s mind was evidently entirely occupied with his invention, and
with the consideration of the best way of making use of it. Strutt’s
means were, we can imagine, very small, and therefore his only plan
was to try and get some other manufacturer of hosiery to take him as a
partner, and share the advantage of his mechanical skill and invention.
We believe there are no letters of Strutt’s to be found relating to
his invention of the Derby rib machine, but in 1757 he was evidently
making great efforts to start in a hosiery business.
Early in that year, Mrs. Strutt went up to London to see her kind old
master, and to inquire whether he could be persuaded to advance them or
lend them some of the necessary capital for starting in business. She
was, we believe, successful in this object, and we know that the next
child was christened George _Benson_. The account of her journey up to
town gives a rather good idea of the difficulty of travelling in those
days, especially for the humbler classes, who could not afford the
coach, but had to go by the waggon.
Jedediah Strutt took his wife to Derby, evidently on a pillion behind
him on horseback, and from there she proceeded in the stage waggon. In
this their progress must have been very slow, as she writes about the
journey that at Glyn, six miles from Leicester, “I was so sick I was
not able to travel further, but staid behind the waggon more than an
hour, and then walked five miles before I came up with it.”
In this and the following year the necessary patents were taken
out, and a great many of the leading hosiery manufacturers in the
neighbourhood of Nottingham were approached, and several visits to
London had to be paid. The first business Jedediah Strutt started was
with hosiers of the name of Bloodworth and Herford. This arrangement,
though terminated happily by all parties, did not last long, and the
two brothers-in-law ultimately persuaded Mr. Need, a most respectable
hosier, to join them, the firm being styled Need, Strutt and Woollatt.
They had works both at Derby and Nottingham. It can be readily
understood that immersed as he was in this business, Strutt had found
it impossible to continue to reside on the farm at Blackwell, which
place he must have left about 1759, when he took his family to reside
in Derby.
Before we leave the village of Blackwell, it ought to be mentioned that
the farmhouse where Strutt resided is still known, and that when one
of his great-grandsons visited the place only a few years ago, he was
at once taken up to a long, low garret in the roof, where it is the
current tradition of the place his great-grandfather had 150 years ago
worked his hosiery frame and invented the Derby rib machine.
It may also be of a little interest to some of our readers to be told
that one of the Strutt family was able to acquire quite recently a
cradle made by Jedediah for his first child, William. This cradle, it
appears, had been acquired or bought when Strutt left Blackwell by his
friend Haslam, the blacksmith at Tibshelf (a neighbouring village), who
had probably assisted Strutt in making his machine. It has since that
time rocked four generations of the Haslam family. The cradle is of
oak, and it is needless to say, like many other works of Strutt’s, of
very strong and solid construction.
The hosiery manufacture of Need, Strutt and Woollatt must have been
very successful, or they would not in such a few years have been able
to gain the position they did. Strutt must have been the manager or
moving spirit of the establishments both in Derby and Nottingham. It
is interesting to learn that in the latter town, in which we believe
he never resided, he received in the year 1762 the compliment of being
made a freeman.
It was, we believe, in or about the year 1770 that Richard Arkwright,
knowing, of course, what the demand for cotton yarn was for hosiery
making in Derby and Nottingham, came to Nottingham in the hope of
finding someone to help him in starting cotton mills, by which he
could reap the fruits of his recent invention, the Spinning Jenny.
Messrs. Wright, the bankers, not being prepared to find all the
necessary capital, advised Arkwright to apply to the successful hosiery
manufacturers, Messrs. Need, Strutt and Woollatt. This advice was at
once acted on, and in a very short time the firm of Messrs. Arkwright,
Strutt and Need was formed.
Cotton mills, driven by horse power, were at once started at
Nottingham, and a few years later mills were built at Cromford, where
advantage was taken of the fine water power of the river Derwent.
Strutt was now a very busy man, as he was not only part proprietor of
large hosiery works and of large cotton spinning works, but he was also
starting in Derby calico or weaving works. It was he, we are told, who
was the first person to start the manufacture of calico all of cotton,
that is to say, not of linen warp and cotton weft. This change, though
it may seem to us a small one, created a revolution in the calico
trade, and all the Lancashire manufacturers were up in arms against it.
In the end an Act of Parliament, after much trouble had been taken, was
passed, by which certain prohibitions and discriminating duties were
repealed, and the new process declared to be both lawful and laudable.
The following letter from Lord Howe,[133] the celebrated admiral, who
had no doubt been helping to steer this measure through the House of
Commons, is perhaps of sufficient interest to insert:—
[133] Lord Howe was not created an English peer until after this date.
“Grafton Street
“August 16th 1785
“Lord Howe presents his compliments with many thanks for the piece of
the new manufacture he has received from Messrs. Need & Strutt. He is
very much flattered by that instance of their gallantry to Lady Howe
who accepts it with equal acknowledgment, as he deems it an evidence
of their obliging prejudice in his favour, tho’ conscious at the same
time that the success of their application to Parliament was solely
ascribable to the reasonableness and justice of their pretensions.
Lady Howe will have a particular satisfaction in making the
circumstances known, hoping that the elegance of the pattern and the
perfection of the work will incite all her acquaintance to encourage
so great an improvement in the British manufactures.”
In the year 1780, Strutt and Arkwright severed their business
connection, Arkwright retaining the works at Cromford, and Strutt
building works at Belper and at Milford on land that had been recently
acquired. These works, as well as those at Cromford, continue to be
carried on as cotton mills in spite of the enormous development of the
cotton trade in Lancashire.
It is interesting, too, to know that Samuel Sclater, known in America
as the “father” of the cotton spinning industry in that country, came
from Belper, and was actually apprenticed for seven years to Jedediah
Strutt while he was living at Milford. Samuel Sclater’s life was
written in America nearly eighty years ago, and contains a view of
the Belper mills, and the portrait and one or two interesting little
anecdotes of his old master, Jedediah Strutt.
We must now say a few words about Strutt’s domestic and family life in
the latter part of his career. In 1773 he had the misfortune to lose
his wife, a loss that was irreparable to him, as she had been not only
a devoted helpmate and companion to him, but a most excellent mother to
their children. She died while with him on one of his many journeys to
London which he made about this time. She is buried in Bunhill Fields.
We give here an extract from one of Jedediah’s letters to his children
after their mother’s death:—
“At present I feel so bewildered and so lost so wanting, some how or
other so but half myself that I can scarce believe things to be in
the manner they are indeed it is impossible for me to describe or
you to imagine how I feel. I doubt not every repetition of this kind
will affect you but it will wear off especially in minds young as
yours are. Other objects will make their impressions but you I trust
will never forget your dear mother who loved you so well I hope you
will always retain much of her goodness of temper disposition and
affection; that you will imitate the example she has set you of virtue
of goodness of benevolence and kindness for they are most amiable
virtues and that you will study the same sentiments of sobriety
temperance diligence frugality industry and economy that you observed
in her. Your own recollection will bring to your minds so many things
that were to be found in her worth your attention that I need not here
enumerate them.”
The bereaved husband, owing to his business in London, and perhaps
also to his own feelings, did not return to his family till November.
The children, of whom William, the eldest, was only seventeen years of
age, by their letters at any rate show how well they had been brought
up. Having only one servant, a great deal of the work in the house had
to be done by them, and we have proof also that both William and his
sisters were making themselves of use in some of the office work of
their father’s business. It is interesting, too, to find how careful
their parents were in impressing upon them the importance of learning
French, and to note even in their letters what trouble they took to
obtain proficiency in that language.
In the letter to his son, from which we are about to make a few
extracts, we can see how Jedediah felt the disadvantage of the rather
humble and imperfect education and of the illiterate society he had
had in early life, and was determined if possible to do his utmost to
prevent his children suffering in the way he had suffered.
“London August 4th 1774
“My dear Billy
“Some time ago I happened to see some of the letters wrote by the Earl
of Chesterfield to his son which pleased me so much that I determined
to buy the book and on perusing it find it so full of good sense,
good language and just observations that I am charmed with it. The
late Lord Chesterfield was a nobleman of the first rank, had all the
advantages of a learned and polite education joined to a ready wit and
good understanding. He had seen and conversed and been employed in
most of the countries in Europe; indeed he had spent a life of many
years in the most polished and refined company that were anywhere
to be met with; to all of which great advantages he added the most
diligent the most careful and most just observation.”
[Illustration: Jedediah Strutt.
(_From Original Painting by Joseph Wright, c. 1785._)]
After explaining Lord Chesterfield’s and his son’s position in the
world, Jedediah Strutt continues:—
“I need not tell you that you are not to be a nobleman, nor prime
minister, but you may possibly be a tradesman of some eminence and
as such you will necessarily have connection with mankind and with
the world and that will make it absolutely necessary to know them
both and you may be assured if you add to the little learning and
improvement you have hitherto had, the manners, the air, the genteel
address and polite behaviour of a gentleman you will abundantly find
your account in it in all and every transaction of your future
life when you come to do business in the world.... You may believe
me in this for I now feel the want of them (accomplishments) by dear
experience. If I would I could describe the awkward figure one makes,
the confusion and the embarrassment one is thrown into on certain
occasions from the want of not knowing how to behave and the want of
assurance to put what one does know into practice. I look on it now
as a real misfortune that in the beginning of my life I had not sense
nor judgment enough of my own nor any friend that was able or kind
enough to point out to me the necessity of an easy agreeable or polite
behaviour. Indeed so foolish was I that I looked on dancing and dress
the knowing how to sit or attend or move gracefully and properly as
trifles not worthy the least expense of time or money and much below
the notice of a wise man. I observe in you a good deal of the same
temper and disposition with regard to these things that I myself had
when I was your age but if you will believe me as the best friend you
have in the world they are wrong notions and must be eradicated and
changed for those of a different nature if ever you mean to shine in
any character in life whatever.”
After reading this letter of advice of the father to his son, it is
interesting to know that the son, if he did not occupy any public
position, did shine as an eminent scientific man, who numbered amongst
his friends all the greatest scientists and philanthropists of his day,
and was himself a member of the Royal Society.
Very little more remains to be told of Jedediah Strutt’s life. He
married a second time about the year 1780 or 1781, Anne, the widow
of George Daniels, of Belper, and daughter of George Cantrell, of
Kniveton. This marriage, we learn from one or two letters, did not give
satisfaction to his daughters and other members of his family, nearly
all of whom were, however, married about that time or a little later.
Jedediah Strutt passed the end of his life at Milford House, which he
had himself built. He did not die there, but at Exeter House, Derby, in
the year 1797. He lies buried in the Unitarian Chapel at Belper.
We may perhaps be excused here for quoting what Mr. Felkin says about
Mr. Strutt:—
“An intellect singularly clear and cool was combined in him with the
faculty of devising inventions and improvements which he carried
into effect with unwearied energy of mind and purpose, impressing
themselves on the entire conduct of his establishments as they
increased in magnitude. His tenacity of principle and moral fortitude
resulted from his confidence that his determinations were founded upon
truth. His convictions in regard to general views of society were
equally strong. His political and religious opinions were adopted
because he thought them sound and conclusive to the happiness of
mankind.”
Mr. Strutt seems to have been singularly void of ambition for worldly
distinction; he was only ambitious of the blessing that follows duty
done.
Although the practice of writing your own epitaph cannot be exactly
commended, the writer of this brief memoir may perhaps be excused
for inserting in it the words found a few years ago amongst Jedediah
Strutt’s papers, and in his own handwriting:—
“Here rests in peace J. S—— who without fortune family or friends
raised to himself a fortune family and name in the world; without
having wit, had a good share of plain common sense; without
much genius, enjoyed the more substantial blessing of a sound
understanding; with but little personal pride, despised a mean or base
action; with no ostentation for religious tenets and ceremonies, he
led a life of honesty and virtue, not knowing what would befall him
after death, he died resigned in full confidence that if there be a
future state of retribution it will be to reward the virtuous and the
good.
“This I think my true character.
“J. Strutt.”
INDEX
_Abbey Square Sketch Book, The_, 212
Abbot’s Chair, The, 301
Abney Common, 197
—— James, 30
—— Manor, 183, 199
—— Moor, 50, 80, 304
Addy, S. O., 242
—— on Derbyshire Folk-Lore, 346–70
—— on Offerton Hall, 192–9
Addy’s _Household Tales_, 358
Ælfritha, 115
Æthelbald, 114, 115
Agincourt, Battle of, 14, 103
Aldulph, 116
Aldwark, 113
Alfred the Great, 5, 76, 117.
Algar, Earl of Mercia, 121
Alkmonton Hospital Chapel, 212, 251
Allestree, 214, 215, 249, 251
Allestry, Roger, 330, 337;
William, 330
Almayne Rivettes, 18
Alselin, Ralph, 7
_Anastatic Drawing Society’s Volume_, 256, 271
Andrew, W. J., 70
—— Prebendary, 214, 278, 279
_Anglo-Saxon Chronicle_, 4, 114
_Annals of Hyde_, 174
Anne of Denmark, 180
Arbor Low Stone Circle, 74, 75–8, 79, 80, 81, 86, 87
_Archæological Journal, The_, 119
Archers, 13
Archery, 323
Arkwright, Richard, 379, 380
—— Strutt and Need, Messrs., 379
Armada, The, 21
Armfield, 297, 298
Armfield, Robert, 297
Arrows, 18
Arrow-heads, 46, 47
Ash, Edward, 190
Ashbourne, 11, 34–5, 208–9, 210, 212, 232, 234–9, 249, 251–2
_Ashbourne, History of_, 326
Ashmole, Elias, 106
Ashover, 219–20, 226, 232, 248, 250, 252–3
Ashton, Isabella, 171;
Peter, 171
Assize of Arms, 18
Aston, 232
Athelstan, 6
_Athenæum, The_, 296
Auby, Thomas, 169
Avebury, 87
Babington, Anthony, 20, 152, 154;
Roland, 17;
Thomas, 253
Badow, 122
Bagshawe, Henry, 282
Bagshaw’s _Gazetteer of Derbyshire_, 368
Baine, Ralph, Bishop of Lichfield, 126
Bakelow Barrow, 59
Bakewell, 6, 97, 101, 104–7, 208, 210, 212, 215–16, 231–2, 236–8, 248,
253–4, 299
Ballidon Moor, 60
Balliol, John, 12
Bamford Moor, 80
Bar Brook, The, 80, 82
Barber, Miss, 365
—— Mr., 175
Bardolf, William de, 12
Baring-Gould, Rev. S., 357, 359
Barlborough, 139, 141–2, 316, 317, 324
Barley, Robert, 16
Barnack, 118
Barons, Rising of the, 8, 9
Barrows, 41
Barrow-upon-Trent, 232
Basingwork, The Abbot of, 301
Baslow Moor, 50, 82
Bassano, Francis, 120, 211, 270, 277
Bateman, Thomas, 44–5, 54, 59, 78, 109, 216
Beamont, Edward, 94
Beauchief Abbey, 16, 202
“Bed-churl,” 364
Bede, 4, 77
Beeston, 249
Beighton, 249
Belers, Thomas, 147
Belper, 254, 380, 381
Belvoir MSS., 22
Bemrose, Sir Henry, 327
Bennett, Gervase, 129;
Robert, 129
Beresford, James, 268;
Thomas, 15, 268
Berfurt, 116
Bernake, Gervase de, 100
Bertulph, 116
Bess of Hardwick, 23
Bigsby’s _History of Repton_, 122
Bills, 18
Birch, Walter de Gray, 116
Birgwurd Cross, The, 301
Birley Hill, 317
Black Edge, The, 165
Blackwell, 373, 376, 377
Blanc-Smith, G. le, 360
—— Wingfield Manor House, 146–63
Blore, Mr., 104, 105, 149, 161
Bodley, Mr., 257, 263
_Boldon Buke_, 193
Bolehill, 45
Bolsover, 250, 254, 324;
Castle, 8, 25, 27, 133, 136–9, 316
Bonnell, Mrs., 178
Bothe, William, 241
Bourbon, John, Duke of, 15
Bow Stone, 299
Bowden, 167, 168
Bower, Margaret de, 103;
Sir Thurston de, 103
Bowles, C. E. B., Bradshaw and the Bradshawes, 164–91
Boyleston, 29
Brackenfield, 254–5
Bradbourne, Humphrey, 19
Bradburne, John, 16
Bradshaw and the Bradshawes, 164–91
Bradshaw Hall, 133, 164–91, 294;
John, 332;
the Regicide, 31, 174
Bradshaw Family, 164–91
Bradwell, 361, 362, 365–369
—— Mr. Robert, 362–364, 368, 369
Brailsford, 7, 249
—— Henry de, 11
Brampton, York, 190
Brandreth, James, 36
Brand’s _Observations on Popular Antiquities_, 346
Brassington Moor Stone Circle, 80
Breadsall, 218, 219, 226, 232, 236, 240, 256–7
Brede Place, Sussex, 226
Bretby, 121, 122
Bretton, 182
Brewster, Thomas, 127
Brigstock, 118
_British Barrows_, 54, 55, 69
Brixworth Crypt, 119
Broad Marshes, The, 166
Bronze Age, The, 42
—— Barrows, 48–64
Bronze Implements, 56–8
Brough, 2
Brounker, Sir Henry, 23
Broxhill, 317, 323
Brydges’ _Restituta_, 353
Buckingham, Duke of, 23
Bull Ring Stone Circle, The, 75, 78–80, 88
Bullock, William, 129
Bunhill Fields, 381
Bupton Manor, 6
Burdett, Sir Francis, 30, 129;
Sir Robert, 130
Burgh, The Roman Town, 348
Burial Customs, 367–8
—— Mounds, 39, 41, 42
“Buries, The,” 117
Burton Bridge, 90, 94
Burton-on-Trent, Abbot of, 6
Butler, Humphrey, 16
Buxton, 1, 2, 20
Cadster Stone Circle, 82, 85
Cairns, 40, 41, 49
Calke, 121, 122, 144
—— Canons of, 121
Camps, 39
“Candle-rents,” 239
Cantrell, George, 383
Canute, 116
Carnarvon, Earl, 126
Cassy, Sir John, 292
Castleton, 2, 8, 243, 283, 285, 347, 348, 350, 362–3, 365, 367, 369
Cattermole, George, 211
Cave-dwellers, 364
Cave-remains, 39
Cavendish Family, 31–3, 137, 138, 199, 315
Chaddesden, 205, 206, 226, 232, 257–8
Chamberlain, The Right Hon. Joseph, 371
Chambers’s _Popular Rhymes of Scotland_, 351
Champion Cross, The, 303
Chapel-en-le-Frith, 82, 286–7
Charles I., 24–26, 289
Charles, Invasion of Derbyshire in 1745 by Prince, 31, 33–5
Charlesworth, 301
Charnells, Thomas, 129
Chatsworth, 6, 20, 27, 32, 133, 139, 150
Chaworth, Sir Thomas de, 202;
Sir William, 15
Chelmorton, 45, 205, 212, 213, 215, 291
Cheshire, John, 33
Chester, 4
Chesterfield, 2, 9, 21, 27, 97, 208, 210, 212, 218, 221, 222, 223,
231, 236, 240, 245, 249, 258–62
—— Lord, 30
—— Philipp, Earl of, 129, 131
Childers, of Carr House, 341
Child’s _English and Scottish Popular Ballads_, 350–4
Chinley, 181
“Christmas Eve,” 361
_Chronicon Abbatiæ de Evesham_, 116
_Chronicles of All Saints’_, 225
Church Broughton, 212, 262
_Church Notes_, 120
Cinerary Urns, 52, 55–6, 61, 62, 64
Civil War, The, 26–31
Clarke, Lettice, 189, 190
Clayton, Margaret, 173
Clulow, 299
Cock and Pynot, The, 33
Codnor Castle, 12
Cokayne Chapel, The, 251
Cokayne, Francis, 17;
John, 15;
Robert, 16;
Sir Aston, 30;
Sir Thomas, 16
Coke, Sir Edward, 30
Cold Eaton Barrow, 68
Coldwell Hall, 343
Colepeper MSS., 332
Colepepper, Colonel, 32
Columbell, Roger, 240
Commissioners of Array, 13
Cooper, Florence, 359
Cooper, Roger, 166
Copley, Lionel, 332
Cornere, John de la, 11
_Corpus Christi College, History of_, 327
Corselets, 18
_Country Folk-Lore_, 347
Cox, Arthur, 280
—— F. Walker, 257
—— Rev. Thomas, 365
—— Rev. Dr., on _Derbyshire Churches_, 97, 102, 105, 178, 269, 273,
275, 280, 347
—— Derbyshire Monuments to the Family of Foljambe, 97–113
—— Historic Derbyshire, 1–38
—— Plans of the Peak Forest, 281–306
—— _Three Centuries of Derbyshire Annals_, 97, 112, 183, 193
Crawford, Major-General, 156
Crecy, Battle of, 13
Creswell Caves, 1
—— Manor, 12
Crich, 205, 210, 211, 262
Cromford, 380
Cromwell, Oliver, 158;
Ralph, Lord, 137, 146, 147–8;
Thomas, 122, 123
Crosslow, 53
Croxall, 122
“Crucks,” 192, 193
“Cucking,” 361–2
Cumberford, Edward, 16
Curfew, 366
Curzon Family, 15;
John, 16, 26, 180, 315;
Francis, 19;
Richard, 9;
Sir Nathaniel, 34
Dacre, Leonard, 152
Dalby, Colonel, 157
Dale Abbey, 16, 121, 201–2, 225, 236
Danes, Invasion of the, 4–6
Daniels, Anne, 383
Darley Abbey, 16, 202, 236, 242
—— Dale, 212, 214–15
Davenport, Barbara, 183;
Sir John, 183
Davy, Thomas, 91
De Bower Chapel, 279
Deepdale, 121
Degg, Sir Simon, 342
Deincourt, Edward, 12;
Lord, 30, 318
Delves, Nicholas, 337
Demi-lances, 18
Denby, 263
Denman, The Hon. George, 131
Derby, 5, 6, 8, 12, 14, 23, 26, 27, 33–35
—— All Hallows’, 207, 212, 236, 237, 240, 245, 248
—— All Saints’, 35, 94, 207, 245, 249
—— St. Alkmund’s, 212, 263
—— St. Michael’s, 232, 263
—— St. Peter’s, 210, 211, 262, 263
“Derby Ram, The,” 347
_Derbyshire Charters_, 197-9, 348
—— _Churches_, 97, 102, 105, 178, 269, 273, 275, 280, 347
—— _Folk-Lore_, 346–70
—— Lyson’s, 328
Derwent Moor Barrow, 45, 46
Dethick, 152, 154
—— Robert, 11
Dickson, Nicholas, 169
_Dictionary of National Biography_, 373
Dilke, Sir Thomas, 189
Diuma, Bishop, 115
_Domesday Survey_, 6, 114, 117, 324
Dove Holes, 78, 295, 304
Dover, 23
Doveridge, 263
“Drinking Cups,” 55–6, 61–63
“Druidical” Circles, 50
Duffield, 175, 178, 249;
Fortress, 8, 9;
Forest, 100;
Frith, 12, 175
Dugdale’s _Monasticon_, 115, 122
Dunscar, Castleton, 361
Durdent, Walter, 122
Eadburgh, 116
_Early Renaissance Architecture in England_, 111
Earthen Vessels, 55–6
“Easter Observances,” 361–3
Ecclesbourne Valley, 5
Eccles Pike, 164, 167, 184
—— Samuel, 278
Edale, 281, 282, 285
—— Head Cross, 303
Edensor, 235
Edgar the Peaceable, 117
Edmund, Earl of Lancaster, 9
Edward I., 11, 12
—— II., 6, 12
—— III., 12
—— the Confessor, 6
—— the Elder, 5
Edwin, King, 77
Elfleda, 116
Elizabeth, Death of Queen, 22–3
Elvaston, 205–6, 209, 212, 219, 221, 231, 263–6
Emmett Carr, 324
_English and Scottish Popular Ballads_, 350, 351
Ethelbald, 4
Ethelfleda, 5
Ethelfrith, 4
Etwall, 126–7, 205, 249
Evans’ _Bronze Implements_, 69
Every, Sir Henry, 30
Evesham Abbey, 116
Exeter House, Derby, 383
Eyam, 6, 50, 78, 133, 144, 182–3, 190, 199, 249, 368
Eyre Family, 18;
Anthony, 190;
Arthur, 16;
Colonel, 29;
Dorothy, 190;
George, 30;
Jacob, 367;
Robert, 30;
Rowland, 30;
Thomas, 16, 292;
William, 101
Fairfax, General, 155, 309
Fairfield, 286, 288
“Fairy Offerings,” 369
Farr Over Close, 194
Fea, Allan, 185
Felix of Croyland, 115, 116
Felkin’s _History of Hosiery and Lace Manufacture_, 371–2, 376, 383
Fenny Bentley, 15, 209, 212, 219, 226, 267–8
Fernilee, 299
Ferrers Family, 9–12;
Henry, 7–8;
Sir Humphrey, 21;
John, 30;
Robert, 7, 9–11;
William, 9–12
Findern, 372, 376
“First Foot,” 365
Fitzherbert Family, 15, 18;
Sir Anthony, 126;
Dorothy, 126;
Henry, 11;
Sir John, 24, 155;
Nicholas, 16;
William, 30
FitzHubert, Ralph, 324
Fitzwilliam, Alice, 110;
Thomas, 110
Five Burghs, The, 5, 6
—— Wells, 43–6, 48, 60
Flagg, 291
Fletcher, J. M. J., _Tideswell Church_, 103
—— Richard, 180
Flint Arrow-heads, 46–7
—— Implements, 56
Foljambe, Monuments to Family, 97–113;
Anne, 238;
Chapel, 261;
Cicely, 168;
Sir Edward, 15;
Sir Godfrey, 17, 238;
Thomas, 11, 168
_Folk-Lore Society, The_, 347
Food-vases, 55–6, 61–2, 64
Foolow, 182
Ford, Stone Circle, 74, 80, 82–3
Foremark, 120, 122, 144
Forster’s _Alumni Oxonienses_, 175
Fox, Rev. Samuel, 225, 273
Foxbrook Furnace, 321
Foxton Wood, 325
Frances, John, 19
Franceys, Ralph, 331, 340
Francis, Sir Robert, 122
Frazer’s _Golden Bough_, 354, 356, 360, 369
Frecheville, Anker de, 13, 101;
Lord, 314, 318, 324, 330;
Robert de, 11
Friar’s Heel, The, 72, 73, 84, 86
Froggatt Edge, 80, 82
Furnival, Gerard de, 101
“Galley-balk,” The, 352
Gardiner, Dr., 326, 329
Garner House, 194
Gaveston, Piers, 12
Gell, Sir John, 26, 28, 30, 94, 155–7, 163, 292, 303
_Gentleman’s Magazine_, 111, 327
“George Inn,” Derby, 34
Gerard, Lord, 126;
Sir John, 131;
Sir Thomas, 126
Gernon Manor, 103
—— William de, 101
Gib Hill, 74–5, 78, 86–7
Giffard, Sir Thomas, 126–7
Gilbert, Henry, 30
Gill, John, 194
Glass House, The, 358–9
Glossop, 6, 282–3
—— John, 197;
Ralph, 195;
Robert, 197
Glynne, Sir Stephen, 258, 274, 277
Godstow Nunnery, 225
Golden Ball, The, 357
_Golden Bough_, 354, 356, 360, 369
Gorsey Close Barrow, 65
Gotch, J. A., The Old Homes of the County, 133–45
—— _Early Renaissance Architecture in England_, 111
Gowland, Professor, 86
Grave, William, 91
Gray Cop Barrow, 59
Great Hucklow, 361, 363
“Greavy Croft, The,” 165, 170
Greenhill, 202
Greenlow, 45–6
Greenwell, Rev. Dr., 53, 55
Grendon, Serlo de, 121
Gresley, Sir George, 27;
John, 16;
Sir William, 16
Grey, Henry de, 12;
Mr. St. George, 78;
Richard, 12, 14;
Sir John, 15
Grimm’s _Popular Stories_, 346
Grindall, Edmund, 244
Grinlow Barrow, 49
Gunson, Mr., 184
Haddon Hall, 133, 134–6, 138–9, 144, 146, 211, 224
Hadrian, 3
_Hall of Waltheof_, The, 242
Halton Family, 158, 160, 163;
Imanuel, 157
Hamilton, Duke of, 28
Harborough Rocks, 43–8
Hardwick, Bess of, 137, 139–41, 150;
Hall, 139–41, 324
Hardy’s _Miners’ Guide_, 366
Harpur, Sir John, 25, 30;
Richard, 127
Harrington, Earl of, 265
Hartington Manor, 11
Hartle Moor, 52, 59, 77
Haslam Family, 379
Hastings, George, Earl of Huntingdon, 126, 131
Hathersage, 268
Hault Hucknall, 268–9
Haverfield, Dr., 3
Hayfield, 228, 245, 248, 282–4
Hayton, Rev. E. J., 268
Heanor, 248
Heays, Mrs., 328
Henderson’s _Northern Folk-lore_, 357, 359
Henry II., 7, 18
—— III., 8, 9, 11
—— IV., 13
—— V., 14
—— VI., 131
Heriz, Mathilda de, 147
High Lane, 194
Highlow Hall, 133, 143
Hipkins, Rev. F. C., Repton: Its Abbey, Church, Priory, and School,
114–32
Historic Derbyshire, 1–38
Hob Hollin, 165
—— Hurst’s House, 50
—— Marsh, 165
Hofnerton, Eustace de, 198
Hole, William, 238
Hollington Manor, 12
Holman Hunt, 250
“Honey Spots,” 242
Hope, 242, 269, 285–6
—— Rev. W., 210–11
—— W. H. St. John, 123, 127, 203, 225
Horsley, 212, 269;
Castle, 8
Horton, Christopher, 30
Howe, Earl, 131, 380;
Margaret, 180;
Roger, 180
Hugh of Lincoln, or the Rain Charm, 348–57
Hunloke, Sir Henry, 30
Hunter, Rev. Joseph, 354
Hutchinson, Rev. Michael, 208, 224, 269
—— Colonel, 155
Ilkeston, 212, 215
Incense Cups, 55–6, 61, 68
Ingleby, 93, 122
Ingram, Sir Arthur, 113
Ireton, John, 16, 31
Isherwood, Bradshawe, 173
Jackson, John, 191
James I., 23
—— II., 31, 32
Jeayes’ _Derbyshire Charters_, 97, 197–99, 348
Jewitt, Llewellynn, 295
John, King, 8
Jordanwall Nook, 298
_Journal of Derbyshire Archæological Society_, 44, 121, 123, 127,
164–5, 175, 181–2, 184, 186–188, 195, 197, 199, 203, 278, 280
Kalc, Canons of, 121
Kedleston House, 144
Kerry, Rev. C., 175
Killamarsh, 249
Kinder Scout, 145
King’s Sterndale, 52
King Stone, The, 82
Kirk Ireton, 189, 236, 249
—— Langley, 210, 212, 216, 217, 221, 232, 269–70
Kniveton, Henry, 11;
Matthew, 17;
Nicholas, 239
Lambert’s Rising, 342
“Lampholme,” 239
Langwith, 250
“Lantern Chimney,” 197
Latham, Dr. Ebenezer, 372
Layton, Richard, 123
Leach, Sir Edward, 30;
Philip, 15;
Ralph, 16
Lead Mining, 2–3, 5, 9
Lea Hurst, 37
Lee, Thomas, 282
Leeke, Sir John, 16;
John, 109;
Nicholas, 30;
Thomas, 16, 30
Leigh, Dr. Thomas, 123
—— Family, 343–4
Leland’s _Collectania_, 115
Leo, the Jew, 356
Leofric of Mercia, Earl, 6
Lewes, Battle of, 10, 11
Lichfield, 28, 125–6, 169, 245
Lidlow, 59
Little Chester, 2
Littleover, 250
Liverpool, Earl of, 97, 102–3, 108, 110, 113
Locko Gardens, 145
Lockyer, Sir Norman, 84, 86
Lomas, Nicholas, 190
Longbows, 18
Longdendale, 281, 282
Long Eaton, 6, 193, 249, 270–1
Longford, 212, 271
—— Nicholas de, 13
Longstone, 212, 271
Loudham Arms, 108–9;
Margaret, 106–7;
Sir John, 106
Loudoun, Earl, 126
“Lovers’ Vows,” 366
“Low,” A, 42
Lowe, John, 190;
Robert, 191
Ludlam, Isaac, 36
Ludworth Moor, 298
Lund, Dr. Troels, 195
Lynaker, Robert, 16
Lysons’ _Derbyshire_, 328
Macaulay, 311–12, 335, 337, 344
Machell, Colonel, 158
Mackworth, 249–50, 271
“Maiden Stones, The,” 298
Maidstonfeld, 282
Makeney, Ralph de, 11
Malcolm, King, of Scotland, 7
Manners, John, 20
Marleberge, Thomas de, 116
Marple Hall Estate, 172–4
Marston Montgomery, 249
Marston-on-Dove, 248
Martin Side, 304
Mary, Queen of Scots, 20, 140–1, 149–55, 161
Massey, Mr. Ralph, 372
Matilda, 121
Matlock, 249
“May King, The,” 347
Measham, 122
Melandra Castle, 2
Melbourne, 8, 15, 91, 133, 145, 151, 208, 271–2
—— Adam de, 92;
John de, 92
Mellor, 249, 284, 285, 293, 298
_Memorials of St. Guthlac, The_, 116
Meynell, Chantrey, 270;
Rev. Frank, 270;
Giles de, 11
Mickleover, 6, 205, 272
Micklethwaite, Mr., 119
Middleton, Mrs. George, 364, 368;
Thomas, 174
Milford, 381
—— House, 383
Militia, The, 18, 23
Milton, 122
Mininglow, 43–6, 48, 60, 67
“Mischief Night,” 361
Molineux, Colonel Roger, 157
Monasteries, Suppression of, 16, 17
Monksbridge, 2
Monks Dale, 214, 215
Montgomery, Nicholas, 15
Monyash, 232, 273
Morewood, Anthony, 30
Morions, 18
Morley, 208, 236, 237, 249, 273
Mosborough Hall, 316
Mountjoy, Lord, 231, 251, 265
Mower, Arthur, 232
Mugginton, 212, 220, 249, 273–4
Mundy, John, 30
Musard, John de, 12
Musca, Thomas de, 121
Need, Strutt & Woollatt, Messrs., 379
Neolithic Barrows, 43–8
Nether Offerton, 198
Netherthorpe Hall, 324
Newark, 28, 93, 217
Newcastle, Duke of, 315, 324, 330, 341
Newton, Robert, 198
—— Solney, 122
Nichols’ _Collect. Topogr. et Geneal._, 97
Nightingale, Florence, 37–8;
William, 37
Nine Ladies, The, 80, 82
Norbury, 205, 206, 208, 212, 220, 226, 274
North Lees, 133, 143
North Wingfield, 133, 141, 232, 249
Northworthy, 5
Norton, 208
Nottingham Bridge, 94
Oates, Titus, 337
Ockbrook, 274
Offerton Hall, 133, 143, 192–9
—— Moor Stone Circle, 74
Oldcotes House, 139
Old Country Life in the Seventeenth Century, 307–45
Oldeffeld, William, 238
“Old Tup, The,” 347
Osmaston, 7, 248, 274
Oswin, 115
Over Haddon, 198
Over Offerton, 198
Overton, Prior, 131
Owlcotes, 324
Oxford, Brasenose College, 126
Palmer, George, 16
Pancakes, 364
Parcelly Hay, 59
Park Hall, 324
Parker, Archbishop, 244;
John, 16
Park Gate Stone Circle, 74, 80, 82
Parwich, 220, 230–1, 242, 247, 249
Peak Castle, 7, 8, 11, 133–4, 283, 285, 348
—— Forest, 9–11, 98
Peak Forest, Plans of the, 281–306
Pears, Dr., 131
Peasants, Revolt of the, 13
Pedlars, 317
Pegge, Dr., 245
Peggy with the Wooden Leggy, 359–60
Pendleton, Mr., 370
Pentrich, Insurrection of 1817, 31, 35–37
Percy’s _Reliques_, 353
Percys, Revolt of the, 14
Pett, Peter, 340
Peverel, William, 7
Pierpoint, Sir Henry, 147
_Pipe Rolls_, 7, 8, 100
Plotting Parlour, The, 33
Pole, Francis, 202;
Jervase, 30;
Peter, 170;
Richard, 19
Pontefract, 28
_Popular Antiquities_, 346
Porte, Henry, 126;
Sir John, 126–8
Posset, 364
Postage in Charles II.’s Time, 335
Potsherds, 66–7
Potter, Sarah Ellen, 350, 358
Prehistoric Barrows, Late, 64–9
Prehistoric Burials in Derbyshire, 39–69
Prehistoric Stone Circles, 70–88
Priestcliffe, 291
Prior, Dr., 120, 130
Pulpitum, The, 200–1, 205
“Pym’s Chair,” 303
Querns, 67
Radbourne Church, 202, 212, 275
Randulph, 121
Ravensdale Forest Lodge, 12, 14
Rawlins, Rev. R. R., 269, 272
Rayner, S., 211
Redfern, Emmott, 166
—— Will, 166
_Reliquary, The_, 59, 97, 175–6, 180, 182, 280, 295, 360
Renishaw, 307–345
Repton, 4, 6, 16, 91–3, 114–132, 203–5, 232, 236, 275
Repton: Its Abbey, Church, Priory, and School, 114–132
Revell, Will., 330, 331, 341
Revolution Inn, 33
—— of 1688, 31–3
Reynolds, J., 211
Richard I., 8
—— II., 13
Ridge Hall, The, 293–4
Ringhamlow, 45, 46
Risley, 223
Roadnook Hall, 330
Robin Hood’s Cross, 304
Robin Hood Picking Rods, 299
Rocester, 2
Rodes, Sir Francis, 26, 30, 142
Rodmarton, 47
Rolleston, Roger, 16;
Thomas, 16
Roman Roads and Stations, 2
Roods, Screens, and Lofts in Derbyshire Churches, 200–280
Ryknield Street, 2
Sacheverell, Sir Henry, 16, 17;
William, 331
Sadleir, Sir Ralph, 151–3
St. Guthlac, 115–16, 123
St. Valentine’s Day, 370
St. Wilfred’s Needle, Ripon, 76
St. Wystan, 116–17, 121–2
Salt, Mr., 43, 60
Sandiacre, 275
Saunders, Major, 29
Sawley, 6, 205, 209, 212, 229–30, 249, 275–6
_Saxon Chronicle_, 117
Sclater, Samuel, 381
Scott’s _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, 346
Scott, Sir Gilbert, 259, 272
Seckington, 114
_Secret Chambers and Hiding places_, 185
Segrave, Nicholas de, 12
“Shakking Monday,” 363
Shallcrosse, Leonard, 182
Shaw, R. Norman, 280
Shawcross, Anthony, 181;
Emma, 181
Shawe, H. Cunliffe, 198
Ship-writs, 25
Shirley, Sir Ralph, 15
Shottle, 371
Shrewsbury, Battle of, 14
—— Countess of (Bess of Hardwick), 23
—— Earls of: George, 15, 281;
Gilbert, 138
_Shropshire Folk-Lore_, 353
Shrove Tuesday Custom, 364
Shuttlestone, 52
Simpson, William, 331
Sitwell, Francis, 326, 327;
George, 30, 313–15, 322, 325–6, 328, 338–9;
Robert, 324
—— Sir George Reresby, Old Country Life in the Seventeenth Century,
307–45
Skeat, Professor, 114
Skulls, 54–5
Sleath, Dr., 120
Sleigh, Sir Samuel, 30, 129
Smalley, 249, 276–7
Smerrill, 45
Smithard, William, Swarkeston Bridge, 89
Smith’s _Intrigues of the Plot_, 337
Smisby, 122
_Snitterton Hall_, 133, 143
Solney, Alured de, 122
“Solomon’s Temple,” 50
Somersal Herbert Hall, 133
South Normanton, 250, 371
Spateman, John, 330
Spinning Jenny, The, 379
Spondon, 205, 208, 249, 277
Stadon Stone Circle, 74, 80––1
Stafford, 5
—— Anne, 182;
Humphrey, 182
Stag-hunting, 329, 330
Standard, Battle of the, 7
“Standing Stones, The,” 301
Stanhope, Sir John, 25, 30, 188;
Sir Thomas, 126
Stanley, 248–9
Stanton, 90
—— Moor Stone Circle, 52, 58, 82, 87
—— Robert de, 91
Statham, Martha, 371
_Station Life in New Zealand_, 352
Staveley, 27, 235, 245, 277, 318, 324, 330
—— Elys, 172;
Katherine, 172
Stebbing Shaw, 114, 120, 122
Stennis Stone Circle, 76
Steveton, 113
Stonehenge, 70–3, 76, 84, 86–7
Stoneylow, 45–6
Stony Middleton, 6
Strelley, 217
—— Family, 15
Stretton, Robert de, 122
Strutt, The Hon. Frederick, on Jedediah Strutt, 371–84
—— Joseph, 371;
William, 371
Strype _Memorials_, 126
Stuart, Lady Arabella, 23
Sudbury, 139, 263, 277
Sutton, 27
Swarkeston Bridge, 35, 89–96
—— House, 139
—— Richard de, 91
Swillington, Margaret de, 147
Taddington, 205, 246, 249, 291
Talbot, Francis, Earl of Shrewsbury, 148–9;
Sir Gylbert, 16;
George, Earl of Shrewsbury, 149–55;
John, Earl of Shrewsbury, 148
Tamworth, 5
Tanner’s _Notitia_, 115
Tau-cross, 352
_Ten Years’ Diggings_, 44–5, 50, 52, 59–60, 67
Thacker, Gilbert, 19, 124, 128–30, 203;
Thomas, 124, 202–3
Thirkelow Barrow, 50
Thornehill, George, 282
Thornhill, 368
Thornsett, 298
_Three Centuries of Derbyshire Annals_, 97, 112, 183, 193
“Three Golden Balls, The,” 351
Throckmorton, Sir Nicholas, 149
Throwley Barrow, 67
Thurnam, Dr., 49
Tibshelf Church, 324
Tickenhall, 122, 249
Tideswell, 11, 14, 97–113, 212, 214, 232, 235, 243, 246, 249, 277–9,
286, 288
_Tideswell Church_, 103
Tisbury, 197
Tissington, 27, 133
_Topographer, The_, 114, 120, 122, 158
Topp, Sir Francis, 340
Treeton, 343
Trustram, Mr., 74, 79
Tumuli, 41
Tunstead, 360
—— Dicky, 360
“Turncrofts, The,” 165–6, 168
Turner, William, 36
Tutbury, 7, 23–4, 27–8, 150, 154
Twyford, 243, 270
—— John de, 13;
Thomas, 16
Tyrwhitt, Troth, 110
“Unlousing Day,” 361
Urn, The, 52
Vallance, Aymer, on Roods, Screens, and Lofts in Derbyshire Churches,
200–80
Vaughan, Dr., 131
Venables, Canon, 352
_Verney Letters_, 332
Vernon, Chapel, 253;
Dorothy, 136, 139;
Sir Edward, 24;
George, 19;
Sir George, 138;
Henry, 19;
Sir Henry, 231, 238;
William, 16
_Vestiges of the Antiquities of Derbyshire_, 44, 46, 52–3, 59, 65
_Victoria History of Derbyshire_, 2, 3, 6, 98
Wakebridge, William de, 210
Wakes, 368–9
Walpole, Horace, 135
Walsyngham, Sir Francis, 151, 154
Walton, 6, 106, 107, 113
Ward, Dr. Jeremy, 195
—— John, F.S.A., Prehistoric Burials in Derbyshire, 39–69
—— Thomas, 180
Wardlow Barrow, 45, 46
Watson, Daniel, 129
Waverley, Annals of, 354
Welbeck, 23, 27
Weston Museum, Sheffield, 216
Weston-on-Trent, 212, 279
Wet Withens, Stone Circle, 74, 75, 78–80
Wetton, 47
Whaley Bridge, 82
Whitaker’s _Craven_, 197
Whitaker, Mr. H. W., 257
Whitehall Field, 167
Whittington Moor, 33
Whittle, 298
“Whyte Maiden, The,” 299
Wigfall Family, 326, 327
Wiglaf, 116
Wigstone, Mr. Thomas, 190
Wilfrid, 296
William of Orange, 31–3
William the Conqueror, 6
Willington, 122
Willoughby, Battle of, 28
Willoughby, Sir John, 223;
Richard, 15
Wilmot, Dr. Edward, 26;
Robert, 30
Wilne, 223, 232, 249, 279
Wimund, 116
Wing Crypt, 119
Wingerworth, 226-8, 232, 235, 249
Wingfield Manor House, 20, 27, 29, 133, 137–8, 146–63
Winwadfield Battle, 115
Wirksworth, 1, 2, 8, 27, 238
Wistanstowe, 116
Wolves, 100
Woollatt Family, 372;
Elizabeth, 373–6;
William, 376
Wormhill, 98–113, 286
Wormleighton, 217, 218
Wright, Thomas, 190
Wulphere, 115
Wybersley, 174
Wyston, _see_ St. Wystan
Yonge, Prior John, 123
_Yorkshire Coiners, The_, 193
Youlgreave, 212, 279–80
Yule-loaf, 364
Zouch, Dave and Sir John, 16
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MEMORIALS OF OLD OXFORDSHIRE.
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MEMORIALS OF OLD DEVONSHIRE.
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MEMORIALS OF OLD HEREFORDSHIRE.
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MEMORIALS OF OLD HERTFORDSHIRE.
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MEMORIALS OF OLD WILTSHIRE.
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MEMORIALS OF OLD SHROPSHIRE.
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MEMORIALS OF OLD KENT.
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MEMORIALS OF OLD DERBYSHIRE.
Edited by Rev. J. Charles Cox, LL.D., F.S.A. Dedicated by kind
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The late Earl of Liverpool, Rev. F. C. Hipkins, M.A., F.S.A., J. Alfred
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Andrews, F.R.I.B.A.
MEMORIALS OF OLD NORFOLK.
Edited by H. J. Dukinfield Astley, M.A., Litt.D., F.R.Hist.S. Dedicated
by kind permission to the Right Hon. Viscount Coke, C.M.G., C.V.O.,
Lord-Lieutenant of Norfolk. The contributors to the volume are: H. J.
Dukinfield Astley, M.A., Rev. W. Hudson, F.S.A., Dr. Bensly, F.S.A.,
E. Alfred Jones, Rev. R. Nightingale, Philip Sidney, F.R.Hist.S., H.
J. Hillen, Rev. Dr. Cox, F.S.A., R. J. E. Ferrier, W. G. Clarke, C.
E. Keyser, F.S.A., Rev. G. W. Minns, F.S.A., Jas. Hooper, Rev. E. C.
Hopper, R. J. W. Purdy, Miss Longe.
_The following volumes are in preparation_:—
Price to subscribers before publication, =10/6= each net.
=MEMORIALS OF OLD ESSEX.= Edited by A. Clifton Kelway.
=MEMORIALS OF OLD YORKSHIRE.= Edited by T. M. Fallow, M.A., F.S.A.
=MEMORIALS OF OLD LONDON.= Two vols. Edited by P. H. Ditchfield, M.A.,
F.S.A.
=MEMORIALS OF OLD GLOUCESTERSHIRE.= Edited by P. W. P. Phillimore,
M.A., B.C.L.
=MEMORIALS OF OLD LINCOLNSHIRE.= Edited by Canon Hudson, M.A.
=MEMORIALS OF OLD NOTTINGHAMSHIRE.= Edited by P. W. P. Phillimore,
M.A., B.C.L.
=MEMORIALS OF OLD SUSSEX.= Edited by Percy D. Mundy.
=MEMORIALS OF NORTH WALES.= Edited by E. Alfred Jones.
=MEMORIALS OF OLD MANXLAND.= Edited by John Quine, M.A.
=MEMORIALS OF OLD SUFFOLK.= Edited by Vincent B. Redstone.
=MEMORIALS OF SOUTH WALES.= Edited by E. Alfred Jones.
=MEMORIALS OF OLD STAFFORDSHIRE.= Edited by W. Beresford.
=MEMORIALS OF OLD MONMOUTHSHIRE.= Edited by Colonel Bradney, F.S.A.,
and J. Kyrle Fletcher.
OLD ENGLISH GOLD PLATE.
By E. Alfred Jones. With numerous Illustrations of existing specimens
of Old English Gold Plate, which by reason of their great rarity and
historic value deserve publication in book form. The examples are
from the collections of Plate belonging to His Majesty the King, the
Dukes of Devonshire, Newcastle, Norfolk, Portland, and Rutland, the
Marquis of Ormonde, the Earls of Craven, Derby, and Yarborough, Earl
Spencer, Lord Fitzhardinge, Lord Waleran, Mr. Leopold de Rothschild,
the Colleges of Oxford and Cambridge, &c. Royal 4to, buckram, gilt top.
Price =21/-= net.
“Pictures, descriptions, and introduction make a book that must rank
high in the estimation of students of its subject, and of the few
who are well off enough to be collectors in this Corinthian field of
luxury.”—_Scotsman._
LONGTON HALL PORCELAIN.
Being further information relating to this interesting fabrique, by
William Bemrose, F.S.A., author of “Bow, Chelsea and Derby Porcelain.”
Illustrated with 27 Coloured Art Plates, 21 Collotype Plates, and
numerous line and half-tone Illustrations in the text. Bound in
handsome “Longton-blue” cloth cover, suitably designed. Price =42/-=
net.
“This magnificent work on the famous Longton Hall ware will be
indispensable to the collector.”—_Bookman._
“The collector will find Mr. Bemrose’s explanations of the technical
features which characterize the Longton Hall pottery of great
assistance in identifying specimens, and he will be aided thereto by
the many well-selected illustrations.”—_Athenæum._
THE VALUES OF OLD ENGLISH SILVER & SHEFFIELD PLATE. FROM THE FIFTEENTH
TO THE NINETEENTH CENTURIES.
By J. W. Caldicott. Edited by J. Starkie Gardner, F.S.A. 3,000 Selected
Auction Sale Records; 1,600 Separate Valuations; 660 Articles.
Illustrated with 87 Collotype Plates. 300 pages. Royal 4to Cloth. Price
=42/-= net.
“A most comprehensive and abundantly illustrated volume.... Enables
even the most inexperienced to form a fair opinion of the value
either of a single article or a collection, while as a reference and
reminder it must prove of great value to an advanced student.”—_Daily
Telegraph._
HISTORY OF OLD ENGLISH PORCELAIN AND ITS MANUFACTURES.
With an Artistic, Industrial and Critical Appreciation of their
Productions. By M. L. Solon, the well-known Potter-Artist and
Collector. In one handsome volume. Royal 8vo, well printed in clear
type on good paper, and beautifully illustrated with 20 full-page
Coloured Collotype and Photo-Chromotype Plates and 48 Collotype Plates
on Tint. Artistically bound. Price =52/6= net.
“Mr. Solon writes not only with the authority of the master of
technique, but likewise with that of the accomplished artist, whose
exquisite creations command the admiration of the connoisseurs of
to-day.”—_Athenæum._
MANX CROSSES; or The Inscribed and Sculptured Monuments of the Isle of
Man, from about the end of the Fifth to the beginning of the Thirteenth
Century.
By P. M. C. Kermode, F.S.A.Scot., &c. The illustrations are from
drawings specially prepared by the Author, founded upon rubbings, and
carefully compared with photographs and with the stones themselves.
In one handsome Quarto Volume 11-1/8 in. by 8-5/8in., printed on Van
Gelder hand-made paper, bound in full buckram, gilt top, with special
design on the side. Price =63/-= net. The edition is limited to 400
copies.
“We have now a complete account of the subject in this very handsome
volume, which Manx patriotism, assisted by the appreciation of the
public in general, will, we hope, make a success.”—_Spectator._
DERBYSHIRE CHARTERS IN PUBLIC AND PRIVATE LIBRARIES AND MUNIMENT ROOMS.
Compiled, with Preface and Indexes, for Sir Henry Howe Bemrose, Kt.,
by Isaac Herbert Jeayes, Assistant Keeper in the Department of MSS.,
British Museum. Royal 8vo, cloth, gilt top. Price =42/-= net.
“The book must always prove of high value to investigators in its own
recondite field of research, and would form a suitable addition to any
historical library.”—_Scotsman._
SOME DORSET MANOR HOUSES, WITH THEIR LITERARY HISTORICAL ASSOCIATIONS.
By Sidney Heath, with a fore-word by R. Bosworth Smith, of Bingham’s
Melcombe. Illustrated with forty drawings by the Author, in addition
to numerous rubbings of Sepulchral Brasses by W. de C. Prideaux,
reproduced by permission of the Dorset Natural History and Antiquarian
Field Club. Dedicated by kind permission to the most Hon. the Marquis
of Salisbury. Royal 4to, cloth, bevelled edges. Price =30/-= net.
“Dorset is rich in old-world manor houses; and in this large,
attractive volume twenty are dealt with in pleasant, descriptive and
antiquarian chapters, fully illustrated with pen-and-ink drawings by
Mr. Heath and rubbings from brasses by W. de C. Prideaux.”—_Times._
THE CHURCH PLATE OF THE DIOCESE OF BANGOR.
By E. Alfred Jones. With Illustrations of about one hundred pieces
of Old Plate, including a pre-Reformation Silver Chalice, hitherto
unknown; a Mazer Bowl, a fine Elizabethan Domestic Cup and Cover, a
Tazza of the same period, several Elizabethan Chalices, and other
important Plate from James I. to Queen Anne. Demy 4to, buckram. Price
=21/-= net.
“This handsome volume is the most interesting book on Church Plate
hitherto issued.”—_Athenæum._
THE OLD CHURCH PLATE OF THE ISLE OF MAN.
By E. Alfred Jones. With many illustrations, including a
pre-Reformation Silver Chalice and Paten, an Elizabethan Beaker, and
other important pieces of Old Silver Plate and Pewter. Crown 4to,
buckram. Price =10/6= net.
“A beautifully illustrated descriptive account of the many specimens
of Ecclesiastical Plate to be found in the Island.”—_Manchester
Courier._
GARDEN CITIES IN THEORY AND PRACTICE.
By A. R. Sennett, A.M.I.C.E., &c. Large Crown 8vo. Two vols.,
attractively bound in cloth, with 400 Plates, Plans, and Illustrations.
Price =21/-= net.
“... What Mr. Sennett has to say here deserves, and will no doubt
command, the careful consideration of those who govern the future
fortunes of the Garden City.”—_Bookseller._
DERBY: ITS RISE AND PROGRESS.
By A. W. Davison, illustrated with 12 plates and two maps. Crown 8vo,
cloth. Price =5/-=.
“A volume with which Derby and its people should be well
satisfied.”—_Scotsman._
THE CORPORATION PLATE AND INSIGNIA OF OFFICE OF THE CITIES AND TOWNS OF
ENGLAND AND WALES.
By the late Llewellynn Jewitt, F.S.A. Edited and completed with large
additions by W. H. St. John Hope, M.A. Fully illustrated, 2 vols.,
Crown 4to, buckram, =84/-= net. Large paper, 2 vols., Royal 4to,
=105/-= net.
“It is difficult to praise too highly the careful research
and accurate information throughout these two handsome
quartos.”—_Athenæum._
THE RELIQUARY: AN ILLUSTRATED MAGAZINE FOR ANTIQUARIES, ARTISTS, AND
COLLECTORS.
A Quarterly Journal and Review devoted to the study of primitive
industries, mediæval handicrafts, the evolution of ornament, religious
symbolism, survival of the past in the present, and ancient art
generally. Edited by the Rev. J. Charles Cox, LL.D., F.S.A. New Series.
Vols. 1 to 13. Super Royal 8vo, buckram, price =12/-= each net. Special
terms for sets.
“Of permanent interest to all who take an interest in the many and
wide branches of which it furnishes not only information and research,
but also illumination in pictorial form.”—_Scotsman._
London: Bemrose & Sons Ltd., 4 Snow Hill, E.C.; and Derby.
Transcriber’s notes:
In the text version, italics are represented by _underscores_, and bold
and black letter text by =equals= symbols. Inconsistent hyphenation
and spellings have been left as printed except as noted below. Small
punctuation errors have been silently corrected.
Superscripts are represented by ^{} and subscripts by _{}
[=a]represents a with a line above and [~p] represents p with a tilde
above
In the majority of cases, spelling has been left as printed but a small
number of errors which obscure the meaning for the reader have been
corrected.
Both uncorrected and corrected spellings are noted below.
Some incorrect puntuation has been silently corrected
p14 acordance left as printed.
p70 betwen left as printed.
p165,166 The variable spellings of Bradshaw(e) have been left
as printed.
p170 The footnote on this page has no anchor, so it is assumed
that it refers to preceding paragraph.
p180 A very wide genealogie chart has been rewritten with keys
to fit in page width restrictions. The original may be seem
as an illustration.
The following notes relate to this.
Willm. The l's have crossbars
Humph. T H's have crossbars.
fftafford. ff represent long s's.
co-heires left as printed.
p196 Jahrhunderts (footnote 65)left as printed.
p258 -- added after Chesterfield section title.
p265 stall-ends changed to stall ends.
p330 blackmith (footnote 89) left as printed.
p373 continnue left as printed.
p374 everry left as printed.
p391 Secret Chambers and Hiding places, hyphenation removed to
match text.
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