Chapter V: Part 5

It must not be thought that Lord Milton’s “fine quarter-deck high-handedness” aroused no outcry. The parishioners regarded his action as a cruel piece of tyranny, and they resisted it with stubborn and obstinate opposition.[45] For over twenty years his lordship was involved in considerable trouble and expense while gradually getting all the houses into his possession, in order that he might raze them to the ground. Mr. Harrison, a resident solicitor, refused to sell his lease, although he was offered three times its value; so Lord Milton let the water from the “Abbot’s Pond” (a small pond which then lay just below the Abbey Church) creep around the premises. Mr. Harrison at once entered an action against his lordship for flooding his house, and the lawyer won the case. A few days afterwards Lord Milton went to London, and on his way to Blandford he heard the Abbey bells ringing. This he interpreted as a sign of parochial joy at his defeat and departure; and nothing would satisfy him but the sale of the offending bells. The bells were really ringing to commemorate Guy Fawkes’ Day: it was November 5th. But the bells had to go: “the autocrat” had spoken. And his friend, the Dean of Norwich, had said that “bell-ringing caused much idleness and drinking.” There is a record that, when the parishioners saw their bells carted away, they stood at their house-doors weeping, even though two of the bells were saved for the new Church of St. James.

In pulling down the old town Lord Milton preserved the Abbey Church, and employed James Wyatt to restore it. Much havoc was then wrought in the interior, but at the same time the vast building underwent a thorough repair, which it needed very badly. There is a tradition that this restoration cost Lord Milton no less than £60,000; but this seems a fabulous sum.

With the materials from the demolished buildings of the old town Lord Milton built the present village of Milton (he also built some ecclesiastical-looking sham “ruins” in the park, which are still standing);[46] and the stone and timber from the old Abbey tithe-barn were used to construct a new church in the new village. The few interesting things in this church, which is dedicated to St. James the Great, were originally possessions of the Abbey—two bells of the fourteenth and sixteenth centuries respectively, a thirteenth century Purbeck marble octagonal font, an old pulpit, two pewter plates, two oak coffin-stools, and three elaborately-bound volumes, in black letter, of Fox’s _Acts and Monuments of the Christian Martyrs_ (1632), which aforetime were chained in the Abbey to a desk covered with “red shagg” and studded with 200 brass nails.

But although St. James’ Church suffers loss by comparison with the other more ancient churches in the parish, its churchyard is remarkable in that it is higher than the church itself. The dead are buried not below the level of the church, but above the level of its roof. This is certainly unusual.

Yet it may be regarded as a fitting _finale_ for the inhabitants of a parish that has been described truly as “a curiosity, surprising, and remarkable.”

WIMBORNE MINSTER

BY THE REV. THOMAS PERKINS, M.A.

Wimborne Minster, as it is called to distinguish it from the village of Wimborne St. Giles and Monkton-up-Wimborne, is at the present day a bright, clean, prosperous-looking little market town, showing few remains of olden times save in its church. There is no doubt that its name is connected with the little river or “bourne” on which it stands, for the two villages mentioned above, bearing names of which Wimborne forms a part, stand on the same stream, which, like some other Dorset rivers—the Var or Frome, the Piddle or Trent—bears two names, the Wim or the Allen.

And yet it is an ancient place. Here, early in the eighth century, Cudburh, or Cuthberga, sister of Ine, the famous King of the West Saxons, whose laws were the foundation of the liberties of his subjects, and show a spirit of tolerance hitherto unknown towards the conquered Celts, founded a nunnery. Here, in 851, the then Earl of Devon is said to have defeated the Danes; here Æthelred, the brother and immediate predecessor of Ælfred on the West Saxon throne, having died of a wound received in battle with the Danes, we know not where, was buried in 871. Hither came the Danes again, plundering the town and destroying the convent. Hither, too, after the death of Ælfred, in 901, came Æthelwold, the Ætheling (son of Ælfred’s brother, Æthelred, who had been passed over as too young to rule when his father died) rebelling against the new King, Ælfred’s son, Eadward the Unconquered, and possessed himself of Wimborne. Eadward marched from the south against him, and encamped within the rampart of Badbury Rings, a few miles to the west of Wimborne; hence he sent a message to Æthelwold, bidding him surrender. To this Æthelwold returned stout answer that he would either live or die in Wimborne. But after the messenger had gone back he took counsel with himself, and decided that as the first alternative was impossible, and the second unpleasant, he would see if a third course were not open to him—namely, to live elsewhere. So he fled to Normandy, and thence to Northumberland, which was then under Danish rule, and, throwing in his lot with the enemies of Wessex, he collected a band of freebooters from beyond the sea, and received some assistance from the East Anglian Danes. But all to no purpose, for the “Unconquered” King overthrew him and his Danish allies in many fights, and recovered all the booty they had carried off.

But it is the church that is the centre of interest of Wimborne. Ine, King of the West Saxons, had two sisters, perhaps more, but only two are connected with Wimborne. Cuthberga was betrothed to the Northumbrian King, Æcgfred, or Osric, as he is often called, but when she met him she found his rough northern manners and his intemperate habits little in harmony with her more refined disposition and mode of life. Therefore, she persuaded him to allow her to devote herself to a religious life, and retired to the nunnery at Barking; and afterwards, at what exact date we do not know, but probably not later than 705, she founded a nunnery at Wimborne, her sister being associated with her in the work. Both of these royal ladies were buried within the precincts, and in due time canonised as St. Cuthberga and St. Cwenberga; the former was commemorated as a virgin on August 31st. A special service appointed for the day may still be read in a Missal kept in the Cathedral Library at Salisbury.

The convent of Wimborne can boast of another illustrious lady among those who took the veil within its walls—St. Walburga, or Walpurgis. Somewhere about the end of the seventh or beginning of the eighth century, she was born in Sussex, and was educated at the newly-founded nunnery at Wimborne, and became in due course a nun; here she stayed for yet another twenty-seven years. Then, by the desire of her uncle, St. Boniface, and her brother Wilibald, she set out with thirty other nuns to found religious houses in Germany. She first settled at Bischofsheim, in the diocese of Maintz, and in 754 became Abbess of the Benedictine house at Heidenheim, which was situated within the diocese of Eichstädt, in Bavaria, of which her brother, Wilibald, was Bishop. Another brother, Winebald, was head of the Benedictine monastery in the same place; and when he died, in 760, Walburga received the charge of this house in addition to her own, and continued to rule both until her death in 779. She was buried in a hollow rock at Eichstädt, from which a bituminous oil, afterwards called Walpurgis’ oil, exuded. This was supposed to possess miraculous powers of healing, so that her grave was much visited by pilgrims, and a church was built over it. She is commemorated at different times in different places, but chiefly on May 1st, a day originally celebrated with heathen ceremonies, emblematical of the birth of Summer. Hence some of the heathen rites still lingered on, just as certain of our Christmas customs are of heathen origin. The readers of Göethe’s _Faust_ cannot help remembering the revels of the witches on the Brocken on Walpurgis’ night.

The nunnery at Wimborne perished in some plundering raid of the Danes some time during the ninth century. Whether Ælfred did anything to restore it we do not know, but a king of the name of Eadward, either Ælfred’s son, the “Unconquered,” or the Confessor, founded a college of secular priests at Wimborne. Again, we know not whether the church of this college occupied the site of the old convent church or not. The names of the deans from 1224 until the Dissolution, in 1547, have come down to us. The only one of these whose name is known in history is the last but one—Cardinal Pole, who held this position from 1517 till 1537, being only seventeen years of age at the time of his appointment. When the deanery was abolished, Wimborne Minster became a Royal Peculiar, under the administration of three priest-vicars. The arrangement was a somewhat unusual one; each of the three was responsible for the services for one week, one of the other two acted as his curate in the Minster, and the other took charge of the chapelry of Holt. The next week they changed places; and so on continually. This curious arrangement continued in force till 1876, when one vicar retired on a pension, another removed to Holt, where a parsonage had been built for him, and the third became sole vicar of the Minster and the parish attached to it.

The history of the church is best read in its stones; written records are scanty. The central part, all in Norman style, the work of the twelfth century, is the oldest; from this the building gradually extended north, south, east, and west, as well as upwards, in the course of the next three centuries; but the builders who enlarged did not wantonly destroy the work of their predecessors. Probably the chief cause of this was lack of funds; there was no shrine of saint, nor tomb of martyr, nor wonder-waking relic to attract pilgrims, whose alms, had they come, would have enriched the church, as many another church was enriched, and had to pay the penalty of over-much wealth in the form of demolition and reconstruction. Wimborne Minster was simply enlarged; the outer walls, of course, had sometimes to be pulled down. Thus in the thirteenth century the Norman east end, which was probably apsidal, had to be demolished to afford space for eastward extension, and the date of this extension is determined by the character of the east window; the windows of the aisles proclaim themselves to be of fourteenth century date; the western tower is a century later. The church is one of the few that possess two towers, set tandem fashion, one at the crossing, the other at the west end. It is not a very satisfactory arrangement from an artistic point of view, and has in the few instances in which it has been introduced been unfortunate. Hereford had two towers thus placed, but the western one fell; Wymondham, in Norfolk, has two still standing, but the east end of the church is a ruin; Wimborne central tower was once surmounted by a spire, but this fell. Exeter and Ottery have two towers, but these are placed in a different manner, their bases forming the north and south ends of the transept.

The central tower at Wimborne is the older. It is supported on four massive Norman piers; the east and west arches beneath it are wider than the other two; to bring the capitals from which they spring all into one horizontal plane and the crowns of the four arches all into another horizontal plane, the builders made the wider arches segments of a circle less than semi-circles, and the narrower ones segments greater than semi-circles, giving them the shape of horse-shoes. Above this lower stage are three others—the triforium stage, with a gallery in the thickness of the wall; above this comes the clerestory, added later; and above it another stage, still later, because here, in place of the simple arches seen on the outside of the lower stages, we find interesting arches forming lancet-headed openings; above this is a heavy, ugly parapet and set of pinnacles, erected in 1608 after the fall of the central spire. The western tower is higher than the central one, contains the bells, and, just outside the easternmost window, on the north side of the belfry stage, there stands the wooden figure of a soldier, who strikes the quarter-hours on two bells, one on each side of him, and is known as the “Quarter Jack.”

Inside this western tower, on the face of the south wall, is a curious clock made by Peter Lightfoot, a monk of Glastonbury, in the early part of the fourteenth century. It tells not only the time of day, but the day of the month and the age of the moon. The earth is represented by a globe in the centre; the sun by a ball on a disc, which travels round it in twenty-four hours, showing the time of day; the moon as a globe on another disc, which revolves once in a lunar month. Half of this globe is painted black, the other half is gilt, and the age of the moon is indicated by the respective proportions of black and gilt shown, for the ball itself rotates on its axis; when the moon is full the gilt half is entirely visible; when new, the black half. The clock is still in working order. A screen separates the lower stage of the tower from the nave, and forms a baptistry, in which stands an octagonal font of Norman character, large enough for baptising an infant by immersion.

From the west end, the church presents a very imposing appearance. The nearer pillars, it is true, are rather mean; they are of fourteenth century date, and very plain. It has been, with some probability, conjectured that they were brought from some other church which had been pulled down just before the time when this church was extended westward, possibly when the western tower was built. The pillars of the original nave are cylindrical and massive, the arches of the main arcading resting upon them are pointed; above is a plain wall; the division between the original and the added work is shown by the different character of the mouldings of the arches, and of the string-course above them, and by the fact that to the east there are the original Norman clerestory windows, while the walls to the west are not broken by any openings whatever.

The floor of the presbytery is raised considerably above that of the choir, and this is itself higher than the floor of the nave, so that the altar stands at a considerable elevation. One peculiarity is noteworthy—there are no altar rails, but their place is taken by three massive oaken benches, covered at all times with the “houseling linen,” fair white cloths—the use of which goes back to very early times. The benches which now stand across the presbytery floor, close to the topmost of the flight of steps leading up to it, are the remains of ten such benches, which were made in Puritan times for communicants to sit on as they received the sacred elements. When the custom of kneeling was revived, these benches were placed on the steps; and on “Sacrament Sundays,” the clerk, after morning prayer, went to the lectern and bade those who were prepared to receive the Holy Communion to draw near, whereupon intending communicants left the nave and knelt at the benches, or in the choir stalls, until the officiating clergy brought them the sacramental bread and wine. In 1852, when sundry changes were being made in the arrangements of the church, all these benches except three were removed—the three which were in use as altar-rails.

The beautiful triplet of windows, over the altar, end the long vista seen from the west. Beneath the presbytery floor is a vaulted crypt. This is not, as many crypts are, dark and gloomy, but well lit by triangular windows, which from the outside are seen to be just above the level of the churchyard. This crypt does not retain its original altar, but its place is marked by a piscina on the southern side; two arches open out into the choir aisles, through which those kneeling in the aisles might look down on the priest officiating at the altar of the crypt.

There are several monuments worthy of notice, but by far the most interesting is the Beaufort altar-tomb on the south side of the presbytery. This was erected, to the memory of her father and mother, by the Lady Margaret, foundress of Christ’s and St. John’s Colleges, at Cambridge, well known for her many benefactions, and from the fact that she was the mother of Henry VII. As the history of this family—the Beauforts—is interesting, and its details little touched on by the writers of English history, it may not be out of place, especially as they were connected with Wimborne, to give an outline of it here. Everyone knows that John of Gaunt was the third son of Edward III. and the father of Henry IV., but many know only in a general way that the House of Tudor traced through him their claim to the English crown. John of Gaunt married Blanche, great-granddaughter of Edmund Crouchback, second son of Henry III., who was created Earl of Lancaster in 1257. Her father, on account of his valour in the French wars of Edward III., had been made a Duke—a new title as far as England was concerned, for the only English Duke that had been previously created was the Duke of Cornwall, better known as the Black Prince. Through Blanche, his wife, John of Gaunt succeeded to the estates of the Duke of Lancaster, among them to the Castle of Beaufort, in Anjou. He was himself in 1362 created Duke of Lancaster. Among Blanche’s maids of honour was one Kate, daughter of Sir Payne Roet, and widow of Sir Owen Swynford. When Blanche died, John married Constance of Castile, but took unto himself Kate Swynford as his mistress; by her he became the father of four children, all born at Beaufort Castle. As they were illegitimate, they took the name of their birthplace as a surname. The eldest of these was John de Beaufort, and the second, Henry, the celebrated Cardinal Beaufort. When Constance died, these four children were legitimatised by a Bull of Urban VI., then by Richard II., then by Act of Parliament. The Duke then married Kate. On January 13th, 1396, John de Beaufort was created Earl of Somerset. He died in 1410, leaving four sons and two daughters; the eldest, Henry, did not long survive his father, and his title and estates passed to his next brother, John. He greatly distinguished himself in the French wars, and was made Duke of Somerset, Earl of Kendale, Lieutenant of the Duchy of Aquitaine and Captain-General of the whole realm of France and Normandy. In 1436 the Duke of Bedford, the Regent, died, and as the King, Henry VI., was still a minor, another regent had to be appointed. The Duke of Lancaster thought he should have obtained this important post, but it was conferred on the Duke of York, and Lancaster therefore retired from active service, and in 1440 married Margaret, widow of Oliver St. John, and daughter of John, Lord Beauchamp, of Bletsoe Manor, Bedfordshire. This John, Duke of Somerset, and Margaret, his wife, are they whose figures lie side by side in alabaster on their altar-tomb at Wimborne. Their right hands are clasped together; angels guard their heads; his feet rest on a dog, hers on an antelope; he is clad in complete armour, the face and right hand alone bare; the left hand holds the right-hand gauntlet, which he has taken off before taking the lady’s hand. On the apex of the arch, above the tomb, hangs the helm which he, during his life, used to wear in tournaments. Their only child was born in 1441—Margaret, of whom mention has been made. Her father died in 1444, aged thirty-nine years, and the Duchy of Somerset became extinct in the Beaufort family. His death took place at Kingston Lacy, an estate close to Wimborne, belonging to the Beaufort family. His widow and daughter went to live on the Bedfordshire property. In about four years time, the widow married her third husband, Lord Welles. Young Margaret, when only nine years of age, was sought by the Duke of Suffolk as a wife for his son, John de la Pole, and by King Henry VI. as wife for his half-brother, Edmund Tudor, Earl of Richmond, son of Catherine, the Queen of Henry V., by her second husband, Sir Owen Tudor. Margaret was a clever girl, well educated, knowing even then Latin and French; but sorely distraught was she to know which of the two suitors to choose: so she consulted an old gentlewoman, who advised her to commit the matter to St. Nicholas. She took the advice, prayed to the saint, and fell asleep, and about four o’clock next morning, whether sleeping or waking she could not tell, saw one standing in her room, habited in a bishop’s robes, who bade her accept Edmund Tudor as a husband. She told her mother, and she was betrothed to the Earl of Richmond, and they were married in 1455, when she was fourteen years of age and he twenty-four. They lived at Pembroke Castle, which belonged to Jasper Tudor, Earl of Pembroke. In 1456 her only son, Henry, afterwards Henry VII., was born, and shortly after this her husband died. He was buried at Caermarthen Abbey, and when the monastery was suppressed, his body was removed to the Cathedral Church at St. David’s. His mother, anxious to keep quite aloof from party strife (for the War of the Roses had already broken out), lived on at Pembroke, educating her son. In 1459 she married her second husband, Sir Humphrey Stafford; widowhood, for one of exalted rank, not being a desirable condition in those times of war and turmoil. It has been seen that her mother was thrice married, and Margaret followed her example, for when Sir Humphrey died in 1481, she, at the end of a year, being then about forty years of age, married Thomas, Lord Stanley. After fifteen years she separated from him with his consent, in order to devote herself to a religious life, and retired to the convent at Woking, in Surrey. It must not be supposed that she had a peaceful or happy life. Her thoughts were centred on her only son, and many were the years of separation from this son that his mother had to endure. The story of his wanderings, his dangers, his detention in Brittany, are too long to be told here—suffice it to say that Richard III. became so odious to the chief nobles that at last it was arranged that Henry Tudor, Earl of Richmond, Margaret’s son, should be recognised by the Lancastrian party as their leader, and should claim the throne; and that in order to gain the adherence of those members of the Yorkist party who were opposed to Richard, a marriage should take place between Henry and Elizabeth, the daughter of Edward IV. Both the mothers agreed to the union: but the first attempt at invasion by Richmond was a failure, and Richard seemed free from all danger; and with a view to win over his Yorkist opponents, he made up his mind to marry Elizabeth himself, although she was his own brother’s child. This step led to a fresh invasion—this time a successful one—and the death of Richard on Bosworth field virtually placed the crown on Henry’s head (1485). So at last the Lady Margaret’s troubles were at an end, and she saw her son crowned and wedded, and the red and white roses twined together. It remains only to speak of her benefactions. Those at Cambridge are well known; and the writer of this chapter, who once held at Christ’s College one of the scholarships she founded, cherishes the memory of the royal and pious lady with all due gratitude. But it is of her benefactions at Wimborne that mention must now be made. About 1498 she built the beautiful monument to her father and mother in the Minster; founded a chantry, where, for her own soul, and for those of her son, her parents, and ancestors, Mass was to be duly said. She founded and endowed the Grammar School, though, as its endowments were greatly added to by Queen Elizabeth, its name was afterwards changed from the Lady Margaret’s to that of Queen Elizabeth’s Free Grammar School.

The Lady Margaret just outlived her son; both died in the same year, 1509, but she rather later than he.

Of the other monuments space forbids mention of any, save that of Anthony Etricke, if it can be called a monument, for it is really the sarcophagus that contains the body of this eccentric magistrate, who lived at Holt, and was recorder of Poole. He desired, for some reason, to be buried neither above the ground nor under it, neither within the church nor outside of it; and in order to carry out this strange wish, he got permission to cut a niche in the south wall, partly below the level of the surface of the churchyard, and in it fixed a slate sarcophagus. In this he ordered his coffin to be deposited when he died; and he made all the preparations he could beforehand, even to the painting of the date of his death on the side of the slate coffin. He had a presentiment that he should die in 1691, but he lived till 1703, so that the real date of his death had to be placed on the coffin. The other date was not obliterated, but the new one was painted on the other, and the two may be seen there to-day. The arms of his family are painted on the lid, and, as he left twenty shillings per annum to keep coffin and niche in good repair, the sarcophagus is bright and smart as paint, gilding, and varnish can make it.

The chained library, as it is called, is placed in a chamber above the vestry, rebuilt when the church was restored. It was formed by the Rev. William Stone, Principal of New Inn Hall, Oxford, afterwards one of the “three vicars” of the church. By his will he left some land to St. Margaret’s Hospital, and his collection of books to the Minster. These were brought from Oxford in 1686, and placed in what was then known as the Treasury. They were chiefly the writings of the Fathers, with certain other theological books, and were intended for the free use of the people of Wimborne. In these days few would care to pore over these dry and heavy tomes, or make use of the library, for it does not contain any novels, standard or ephemeral; but there were days when it was used for study. In 1725 a catalogue was made, and the number of the books was then two hundred; when next catalogued, about one hundred and fifty years later, the number had dropped to one hundred and eighty-five, despite the fact that ten books not mentioned in the former catalogue were on the shelves. There is but one MS., bearing date 1343, “Regimen Animarum,” written on vellum, and containing some illuminated initials. The majority of the books were printed between 1520 and 1710. The most interesting are: a Polyglot Bible (1657), a Breeches’ Bible (1595), and Sir Walter Ralegh’s _History of the World_ (1614). No less than one hundred and four pages of this _History_ have had a hole burnt through them. Tradition says that Matthew Prior, the poet, was reading this book by candle light, and fell asleep; when he awoke he found that some snuff from his candle had fallen on the book and done the mischief. He stuck small pieces of parchment over the hole in every page, and inserted the missing letters or words with pen and ink. But the interesting tradition has been controverted in modern times.

The books were originally chained to the shelves, one end of the chain being fastened to the edge of the binding, the other to a ring which would slide along a rod. Many of the books had got loose in the course of years, and lay dusty and uncared for; but at the restoration, new rods were fastened along the new shelves, and the old chains repaired and put to their former use.

In two oaken chests in this room many deeds relating to the Collegiate Church (the earliest dating from the time of Henry III., the latest from that of Henry VIII.) are preserved. Among them is the deed founding the Chantry and Grammar School, drawn up by the executors of the Lady Margaret’s will; and also the charter granted by Charles I. to the Governors of the church, from which they derive the powers of appointing clergy, choristers, clerk, vergers, etc., which powers they use to-day.

There is one other ancient ecclesiastical foundation in the neighbourhood of Wimborne, about a quarter of a mile from the town on the road to Blandford. It is now an almshouse, where three poor married couples, three poor single men, and the same number of unmarried women, are maintained; but its original purpose was to relieve only such of the poor as were suffering from leprosy. It is generally said to have been founded by John of Gaunt, and so to have been another connection between that family and Wimborne. There is, it may be said, an old kitchen at Canford which is still called “John of Gaunt’s Kitchen”; whether he had anything to do with the building of the kitchen or the endowment of the Lazar-house we do not know, but it is certain that he did not found the latter, for, in the reign of King John, Hugo of Lingiveria gave to it an acre of land, and in 1282 the Bishop of Exeter gave an indulgence to any who would contribute to its support. A deed of the date of Henry VIII. refers to a Bull of Innocent IV., dated 1245, in which this hospital is mentioned. Various gifts of land, vestments, plate, etc., were bestowed on the hospital, to which a small chapel dedicated to St. Margaret and St. Anthony is attached. A chantry was founded here by one John Redcoddes, in order that a priest might daily say masses for his soul’s welfare. The chapel, the architecture of which shows that it was originally built in the thirteenth century, still stands, and is fitted up for service. Hither once a week one of the clergy comes from the Minster to conduct a service, which the almshouse people attend.

Other than the buildings already mentioned, there is little mediæval work to be seen in Wimborne. The old Free Grammar School buildings have given place to modern ones erected in 1851, and the school is now managed by a governing body appointed under a scheme drawn up by the Charity Commissioners. So “the old order changeth, giving place to the new”; but, seen from far or near, the two-towered Minster, with its parti-coloured walls of deep red and drab stone, rises grand and old amid its modern surroundings—a noble memorial of the mediæval builder’s art.

FORD ABBEY

BY SIDNEY HEATH

Various authorities agree with Camden in stating that Ford Abbey (originally in Devon, but now included in the county of Dorset), near Chard, was founded in the year 1140, for Cistercian monks, by Adeliza, daughter of Baldwin de Brioniis, and a grand-niece of William the Conqueror. The circumstances of its origin are interesting and romantic. It appears that Adeliza’s brother, Richard of Okehampton, had given, in 1133, certain lands at Brightley, within his barony, to an Abbey of the Cistercian Order, and had secured twelve monks to dwell therein from Gilbert, Abbot of Waverley, in Surrey. This small community remained at Brightley for five years, when they, “by reason of great want and barrenness, could abide there no longer,” and commenced a return journey to their original home in Surrey. On their way they passed through Thorncombe, the parish wherein Ford is situated, where they encountered Adeliza, who, hearing with great regret of the failure of her brother’s enterprise, exclaimed: “Behold my manor where you now are, which is very fruitful and well wooded, which I give you for ever in exchange for your barren lands at Brightley, together with the mansion-house and other houses. Stay there until a more convenient monastery may be built for you upon some other part of the estate.” The site selected by the monks for the erection of the Abbey was in a valley, on the left bank of the river Axe, at a place called, according to Leland, “Hertbath” (_balneum cervorum_), and which, from its nearness to a ford crossing the river at this spot, subsequently became known as _Ford_.

Such is the accepted origin of the splendid pile of buildings which sprang up in this fertile and sequestered valley in 1148, and which still, notwithstanding the pillage at its dissolution, and its many structural alterations, commands our admiration and our attention; although, if we except some small portion of what is known as “the chapel,” at the eastern end of the south front, nothing now remains of the original foundation erected by the pious Adeliza.

The original purpose of this ancient part of the building, known as “the chapel,” is somewhat obscure. It has been commonly regarded as that portion of the religious house which its name indicates, and as being the burial-place of its founder and other benefactors. Dr. Oliver, however, in the supplement to his _Monasticon_, speaks of it as the “Chapter House”—a likely suggestion. In his _Memoir of Thomas Chard, D.D._, Dr. J. H. Pring writes:

That except in the deed of surrender, and a short reference made to it by Hearne, I have not been able to discover the slightest notice of “the Church of the Blessed Virgin Mary of Ford” in any of the numerous accounts which have been given of the abbey; though when we read of frequent interments, some on the north, others on the south side of the choir—others, such as that of Robert Courtenay, who, we are told, was buried on the 28th July, 1242, in the chancel, before the high altar, under a stately monument exhibiting the figure of an armed knight—there can be little doubt, I think, that these took place, not in what is now known as the Chapel, but in the Abbey Church, which stood at the east end of the abbey, about two hundred feet above the chapel.

This portion of the edifice, whose original uses are conjectural, shows, both inside and out, considerable vestiges which appear to suggest a Norman origin, and which we may assume were possibly erected under the immediate auspices, if not under the personal superintendence, of the Lady Adeliza. The exterior angles of the eastern end exhibit the quoins so characteristic of the Norman style of building, and the interior has many fine examples of Anglo-Norman work, in the pillars, the groined stone roof, the arches at either end, of a slightly pointed character, with the well-known zig-zag or chevron moulding. The eastern window is of much later date, being Perpendicular in style, and it is believed to have been inserted by Thomas Chard, the last Abbot, as the upper panel of the left-hand side depicts a stag’s head, whilst the companion panel, parallel to it, contains faint traces of the oft-repeated monogram, T. C.

The next feature in point of antiquity is what is now termed the “Monks’ Walk,” a range of ivy-clad buildings running back for nearly four hundred feet from the eastern end of the Abbey in a northerly direction, and it is thought that a similar range ran parallel to it. The remaining wing is on the eastern side, and consists of two storeys, the lower of which possesses some beautiful Early English work, and the upper one was probably the monks’ dormitory. In the centre is an archway of fourteenth century date, and along the entire length of the wing is a series of lancet windows, almost perfect on the western side, but destroyed or built up on the eastern. Hearne thus notices this wing:

But now, though one of the chief uses of the cloisters was for walking, yet in Religious Houses they had sometime galleries for the same end. We have an instance of it in Ford Abbey in Devonshire, which is one of the most entire abbeys in England; in the east front whereof, which is the oldest of the two fronts (though the south front be the chiefest), there is a gallery called the Monks’ Walk, with small cells on the right hand, and little narrow windows on the left.

Great as is the antiquarian interest of these fragments of what we may reasonably presume to have formed part of the original foundation, the greater part of the existing fabric is the work of Abbot Chard, of whom we shall have something to say later. The best view of the building is obtained from the front, where nearly all that meets the eye affords a striking instance of the consummate taste and devoted perseverance of this remarkable man under circumstances that may well have discouraged the boldest. The storm which culminated in the dissolution of the monastic houses was gathering; but instead of being filled with dismay, as were so many of his fellow-churchmen, Thomas Chard spared no effort to beautify his beloved abbey, perhaps that the very glamour of her loveliness might enchant the eyes of the spoilers and turn them from their purpose of ruthless spoliation. To a great extent, his work was preserved, for, although the abbey did suffer, and that grievously, yet it escaped the wanton wreckage by which most of these foundations throughout the land were devastated.

The first portion of Chard’s building to claim attention is the cloister, late Perpendicular in style, with mullions and window tracery which present an appearance at once good and bold, and show no signs of the debasement and formality that are so characteristic of the late buildings of this period. Above the windows a frieze of stonework depicts on shields the arms of various benefactors to the Abbey—as those of Courtenay quartering Rivers, Poulett, the Bishop of Exeter, etc.; and on many shields appear either the monogram or the name of Thomas Chard.

An excellent account of the cloister—and, indeed, of the whole Abbey—is contained in a very rare little volume, entitled, a _History of Ford Abbey_, written anonymously many years ago, but acknowledged by ecclesiologists to be the work of one who for a long period must have resided there, and who thus, by daily associations with the fabric, became more familiar with its minute architectural details than could possibly be the case with anyone who had not enjoyed a similar privilege. As this volume is rare, as well as interesting and accurate in regard to its architectural information, no apology is needed for quoting certain passages from it here. In reference to the cloister we learn that:

The cloister is divided by a suite of rooms and arcade from the grand porch-tower, so conspicuous for its architectural beauty, and which in days gone by was no doubt the original entrance. It is richly ornamented with first-rate sculpture, some of it obviously unfinished; the central boss in the vaulting uncut; and the blank shield in the centre, below the basement window, encircled by the garter, was doubtless intended for the royal arms. The uncut shield on the sinister side, having the pelican and dolphin for supporters, was for Courtenay. The two small shields cut are charged with a lion rampant for De Redvers, and cheeky two bars for Baldwin de Brioniis. Immediately over the arch of the door is a large scroll shield of a more modern date, bearing the arms of Prideaux, impaling those of his second wife, Ivery. On the upper part of this elegant specimen of Dr. Chard’s taste, in the centre shield, are his initials, T.C., with the crosier and _mitre_ (Dr. Chard was a Suffragan Bishop); and the two smaller shields, with the T.C., crosier, and abbot’s cap, alternate with the stag’s head cabossed—supposed to be the bearing of the then Bishop of Exeter; and just below the battlement of the tower is the following inscription:—

AN̄’O D’N̄I MILLESIMO QUINGESIMO VIC^{MO} OCTA^O. A D’N̄O
FACTUM EST THOMA CHARD, ABB.

Now, while there is no doubt that Chard united in his own person the offices of Abbot and Suffragan Bishop, the above account is at fault in attributing “the stag’s head cabossed” to the then Bishop of Exeter, for it formed no part of the armorial bearings either of Bishop Oldham or of his successor, Veysey. In a letter from Dr. Chard to Cardinal Wolsey “the stag’s head cabossed” is used as the _seal_, and is expressly referred to in the body of the letter as “_sigillum meum_,” and we find the same device associated with his name or monogram in various parts of the Abbey buildings; the most probable solution being that it relates to the ancient cognizance of the Abbey, or the site whereon it stands, which, as we have already seen, was Hertbath (_balneum cervorum_).

Further confirmation of Dr. Chard’s double office of Bishop and Abbot is found in a remarkable panel in the frieze (_see illustration_), which appears to have been designed for the purpose of attesting this fact, if not in actual words, yet in unmistakable and appropriate symbolism. The small top corner shields of this panel contain the letters T. C., and the lower ones an abbot’s and a bishop’s staff, respectively; whilst on the hatchment-shaped panel in the centre occurs the stag’s head and bishop’s staff, the name “Tho. Chard” on a scroll entwined round an abbot’s staff; and above these, as a fitting termination to the whole, appears the abbot’s cap, surmounted by the bishop’s mitre.

The entrance porch contains a fine west window of the same character as those of the adjoining great hall, which in their turn correspond with those of the cloister, and above them is a frieze of grotesque animals. To quote once more from the book already referred to:

This part of the building has been shorn of its length, as, on minute inspection, will appear. The royal arms are not in the centre, as they no doubt originally were. They consist of a rose crowned, encircled with a garter, and supported by a dragon and greyhound, the badges of Henry VII.... Although the remaining portion of this wing has been altered, it was built by Thomas Chard, the battlements corresponding with the tower and chapel; and as a more decisive proof that it was so, there is, at the western end of the building, but hid by ivy, the portcullis cut in stone, another of the badges of Henry VII.; and to the north, or back side, are the initials T. C., with the crosier and cap.

The ancient guest-chamber, so integral a part of these old foundations, appears to have been at right angles to the great hall, as it was noticed some years ago on the collapse of portions of the ceiling that the ancient timber roof was still _in situ_. We shall have a little to say later about the alteration and adaptation of the interior for the purposes of a modern mansion, when, happily, much of Dr. Chard’s work was not disturbed; but we have, unfortunately, no record of the condition of the fabric prior to the restorations of the above prelate, and his task seems to have been little less than the rebuilding of the greater part of the edifice. The antiquary Leland, visiting the Abbey during Dr. Chard’s alterations, writes: “_Cœnobium nunc sumptibus plane non credendis abbas magnificentissime restaurat_.”[47] This beautiful structure had scarcely had its delicate stonework mellowed by the soft winds from the Devonshire moors, when the Dissolution, long impending, burst in fury upon the larger religious houses, and on March 8th, 1539, Thomas Chard was induced to sign the surrender of his beloved Abbey of Ford, which was endeared to him by many sacred associations, and on which he had lavished his own private fortune and the artistic genius of a master mind. The following is a translation (according to Dr. Pring) of the document of surrender, the wording of which, we may be sure, accorded ill with the reluctant hands that attached the names and seals:—

To all the faithful in Christ, to whom this present writing shall come: Thomas Chard, abbot of the monastery or abbey, and of the Church of the Blessed Virgin Mary, of Ford, in the county of Devon, of the Cistercian order, and the same place and convent, everlasting salvation in the Lord.

[Sidenote:

Per me Thomā abbem
Willūs Rede, prior
John Cosen
Robte Yetminster.
Johēs Newman.
Johēs Bridgwat^{r}.
Thomas Stafford.
Johēs Ffawell.
W. Winsor.
Elizeus Oliscomb.
William Keynston.
William Dynyngton.
Richard Kingesbury.
]

Know ye that we, the aforesaid abbot and convent, by our unanimous assent and consent, with our deliberate minds, right, knowledge, and mere motion, from certain just and reasonable causes especially moving our minds and consciences have freely, and of our own accord given and granted, and by these presents do give, grant, and surrender and confirm to our illustrious prince, Henry VIII., by the grace of God, king of England, lord of Ireland, supreme head of the Church of England in this land, all our said monastery or abbacy of Ford aforesaid. And also all and singular manors, lordships, messuages, etc. In testimony whereof, we, the aforesaid abbot and convent, have caused our common seal to be affixed to these presents. Given at our Chapter House of Ford aforesaid, on the 8th day of the month of March, and in the thirtieth year of the reign of King Henry aforesaid. Before me, William Petre, one of the clerks, etc., the day and year above written.

By me, Willm̄n Petre.

No sooner had the document been signed than the work of pillage commenced; but one is inclined to agree with the Devonshire historian Prince, that, “by what lucky chance he knew not, Ford Abbey escaped better than its fellows, and continueth for the greatest part standing to this day.” At the same time, there is little doubt that much havoc took place, although, perhaps, not to the extent recorded by Risdon, who says it now merely “somewhat showeth of what magnificence once it was.”

It is just possible that Thomas Chard’s beautiful work softened the hearts of the spoilers, and its very wealth of ornament caused it to be retained as too valuable a prize to be utterly demolished; but, whether standing entire or razed to the ground, it appears to have been an encumbrance, for on October 28th, in the year of its surrender, it was granted by the King, “with all and singular its manors, lordships, and messuages, etc.,” to Richard Pollard, Esq.

At the time of its dissolution the annual revenues of the Abbey were computed at £374 10s. 6¼d. by Dugdale, and at £381 10s. 6d. by Speed, and the net revenue was, no doubt, somewhere between these two sums.

Born probably at Tracy, near Awliscombe, Honiton, about the year 1470, Thomas Chard was one of the most distinguished ecclesiastics of his day, and evidently, as his works attest, an accomplished architect and a most munificent man. The highly ornamental façade of the institution over which he presided as last abbot is considered to be the finest example of its kind in the West of England. On entering holy orders, Chard appears to have held several livings in Somerset, Devon, and Cornwall, and was elected Abbot of Ford about 1520. Previous to this, in 1508, he was appointed Suffragan to Bishop Oldham by the title “Episcopus Solubricencis,” in 1513 Warden of the College of Lady St. Mary, at Ottery, and in 1515 Prior of the Benedictine or Cluniac Priory of Montacute. It has been suggested that as Dr. Chard was Warden of Ottery College about the time that the beautiful Dorset Chapel was built (1513-18)—one of the most lovely pieces of Perpendicular building we possess—the inspiration of this eminent architect may have done much to influence the splendid design of this portion of the Church of Lady St. Mary at Ottery.

It was Bishop Chard who officiated for Bishop Veysey, of Exeter, at the noble obsequies of Katherine Courtenay, daughter of Edward IV., and widow of William Courtenay, Earl of Devon, buried at Tiverton in 1527. It is thought that his choice for this office was determined by his headship of the Monastery of Ford, of which foundation the Courtenays had always been great patrons and benefactors.

The burial place of Thomas Chard is unknown, but may possibly be in the chapel of the Hospital of St. Margaret, near Honiton. Dr. Oliver, who visited this chapel many years ago, writes: “The west door is secured by a large sepulchral slab, to which was formerly affixed a brass plate.” This has long since disappeared, but many writers agree that there is little doubt that this slab covered the dust of the Abbot-Bishop.

The old abbey seal,[48] which had eluded the research of many antiquaries, including the editors of Dugdale’s _Monasticon_, was discovered by Mr. Davidson, of Sector, near Axminster. It is of oval form, the usual shape for monastic seals, and is divided into three compartments, in the uppermost of which is a bell suspended in a steeple, and in the canopy beneath we see the Blessed Virgin with the Divine Infant on her knee. On one side is the shield of Courtenay, bearing—_or_, three torteaux, with a label of three points. On the other side is the shield of Beaumont—barry of six, _vair_ and _gules_. The lowest compartment occupies rather more than half the seal inside the inscription, and shows an abbot standing, in his right hand a pastoral staff, and holding in his left hand a book; and at his feet are three monks kneeling, with their hands together in supplication.