Chapter VIII: Part 8

A very noticeable feature of Tattershall Castle is the covered gallery, well supplied with loopholes, which runs from turret to turret, partly projecting over the machicolations of the walls, having had above a parapeted and embattled platform. These galleries upon the machicolations are not uncommon in the châteaux of France. Visitors to the region of the Loire will remember good instances of this feature in Langeais, Azay-le-Rideau, and de L’Islette. A small staircase in the thickness of the wall of the south-eastern turret continues from the large circular staircase to the top of the turret. The turrets are battlemented, and have brick-arched machicolations. They were in Buck’s time apparently all roofed in with conical spirelets, terminating in fleurs-de-lys. All these roofs now are gone. In these turrets are fireplaces, for, no doubt, partly, the warder’s comfort, but also, possibly, for providing a prompt supply of boiling oil or lead “or something humorous” wherewith to discomfort the adversary beneath. And both in turrets and elsewhere in the buildings the necessary garde-robes may be found. The chimney stacks, on the east side particularly, must have added to the appearance of the tower, as they were originally considerably higher than they are now. Excepting the lightning stroke few modern events connected with the castle have been more interesting than the fall of a lad of nine years old, on June the 2nd, 1879, from the top wall of the keep to the floor inside, a distance of 76 feet. He came off with a dislocated hip and other bruises; but, like Joan of Arc’s 60 feet leap from Beaurevoir, “by some miracle broke no bone in (his) body.”

It might be mentioned that the fireplaces, which have been rather minutely described, are believed to have been carefully studied by Pugin when he was engaged in designing the internal decoration and fittings of the Houses of Parliament. About four miles north of Tattershall are the remains of another tower—Tower-le-Moor—of the same date, construction, and materials as Tattershall Castle. It was probably built by Lord Cromwell as a hunting-box, and was about 60 feet high. Only one angle of it exists now; considerably more is seen in Buck’s print of it in 1727.

Since this article was written, the property has been sold to Mr. Albert Ball, J.P., of Nottingham, who is, I believe, quite sensible of the great value to the nation of his new possession.

TATTERSHALL CHURCH

There are no indications existing at Tattershall of any earlier church than the present one, at least above ground—for foundations have been discovered beneath the south transept floor, which have no apparent connection with the church as it now is—except perhaps the font, which, as far as its base and stem is concerned, is of Decorated (_i.e._ fourteenth century) date. That there was an earlier church is certain for the following reasons. In 1323 Joan de Driby wished to assign, amongst other items, “the advowsons of the Church of the said Manor of Tatreshale, &c., to Gilbert de Bernak, parson of the Church of Tatishale,” &c. “The said church is worth twenty marks by the year.” Also on the choir steps is the brass of a former steward of Ralph, Lord Cromwell, _i.e._ Hugh de Gondeby, who died in 1411. And in the will of the founder, Ralph, Lord Cromwell (of whom there has been much to say in recording the history of the castle), dated 1451, it is directed that he was to be buried in the middle of the choir of Tattershall Collegiate Church, until the said church is rebuilt, and then to be removed and buried in the middle of the new church, but so that no impediment be placed in the way of going in or going out to those ministering around the divine offices in the aforesaid choir. And in Bishop Alnwick’s visitation of his cathedral in 1440[95] there is mention made of the erection of the parish church into a collegiate one by the Treasurer of England. The present building was, in part at least, erected by Ralph, third Lord Cromwell, as a collegiate church dedicated in honour of the Holy Trinity. He obtained a licence from the Crown in 1439 to endow it for the support of seven priests, one of whom was to be the warden, six secular clerks, and six choristers, and he also founded almshouses for thirteen poor persons of either sex, to be under the supervision of the warden of the college. The chaplains were to maintain divine service perpetually, to pray for the King, alive or dead, and for the souls of the founder, and of his grandmother, Dame Matilda Cromwell.

In 1519 Bishop Atwater visited Tattershall, and remarked that the choristers were only taught to sing, whereas they ought also to be instructed in grammar, and he noticed that the chaplains were in the habit of dressing like laymen, so he ordered them in future to dress as priests, according to their statutes. The seal of the college represented the Trinity in a canopied niche, beneath being a shield of arms, Cromwell and Tattershall quarterly. The college was dissolved in 1545, and was granted to Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, the King’s brother-in-law, to whom the adjacent castle and manor had come in 1520. The buildings of this college, which were on the south side of the church, have disappeared. The almshouses, on the north side of the church, are probably on their original site.

The church, which is situated about eighty yards east of the castle, is a large and very spacious cruciform structure of stone (probably Ancaster, which has weathered well, and looks in many places as though it had been worked a year or two ago), consisting of nave, with aisles, choir, north and south transepts, a north porch, doorways in the west and north aisle of nave, south transept, and door in choir, and western tower. There have been cloisters on the south side of the choir to which this door gives entrance, and two porches corresponding to that existing on the north side, and the other at the south end of the south transept.

It is 180 feet long, the transepts together are 100 feet in length, the nave 60 feet wide, the chancel 26 feet, and the transepts 20 feet. Over the entrance to the north porch is a niche for a statue, below a handsome cross, and above a shield, with the coat of arms of William of Wainfleet, Bishop of Winchester, to whom some part of the architectural design of the castle has been attributed (he is supposed to have finished this church after the founder’s death), _i.e._ fusilly ermine and sable, and on a chief sable, three lilies slipped. Over the south porch was a similar shield according to Holles; in the windows above both porches was the inscription: “Orate pro anima Radulphi nuper domini de Cromwell et Tateshall, Thesaurarii Anglie et fundatoris hujus Collegii.” On the west side of the door of the north porch is a holy water stoup. Over the east window of the choir is another niche, probably for the Holy Trinity. The tower has a fine square-headed western doorway beneath a band of panels containing blank shields, a five-light window above, then a small square-headed light, and three-light belfry windows. The parapet is now plain, with crocketed angle pinnacles, which end, below the parapet, in double angular buttresses, a feature not uncommon in Perpendicular towers, but not much to be admired—especially here, as it makes the tower look rather low and squat. There is a staircase in the south-west angle of the tower, leading also on to the aisle roof. At the junction of the choir and south transept is a circular turret, in which is a staircase from the pulpitum or choir screen, up to the transept and nave roofs: it has been higher, and probably was used, as in so many other Lincolnshire churches, as a Sanctus bell-turret. The first great impression gained on entering the chancel is its exceeding lightsomeness, the window surface is very extensive, compared with the wall space, and unfortunately, except in the east window, all the coloured glass is gone. This came about in 1759, from the then Lord Fortescue giving the then Earl of Exeter the glass from the windows to put in St. Martin’s Church, Stamford,[96] on condition that the Tattershall windows should be glazed with plain glass. This condition was not observed for many years, and the interior of the church, particularly of the choir, suffered terribly from exposure and neglect. The windows of the nave and transepts, of four bays, are of good design, as is the clerestory range over nave and transepts, of three lights, but the north and south transept end windows are very fine, and of almost identical pattern with those in King’s College Chapel, Cambridge, except that the latter have five bays, and Tattershall six, and at Tattershall, throughout all the windows, there is a complete absence of cusps.

The small amount of painted glass that was left has been collected together in the east window of the choir, where can be recognised the Treasurer’s badge, and the shield of Tattershall, &c. A few remains exist of the stalls, which were dated 1424, in an inscription on them, and their stone quatrefoiled base (similar to that of the stalls in Lincoln Minster) is now placed in the nave. There are fine sedilia and a piscina in the south wall of the choir, and angels on the corbels of its roof, holding shields with instruments of the Passion on them. There are two interesting wooden pulpits, and a portion of a cornice of wood along the top of the wall in the nave above the south aisle windows. In the north transept are now carefully fixed the series of fine monumental brasses—one to Ralph, Lord Treasurer Cromwell (the founder of the church), and his wife; to William Moor, second Provost of the College; to Joan, Lady Cromwell; to Matilda, Lady Willoughby de Eresby; to another Provost of the College, possibly John Gyger; to William Symson, chaplain of Edward Hevyn, who was steward to the Countess of Richmond, and who founded a chantry in this transept, where is a piscina (as there is also in the south transept). A small brass to the memory of Hugh de Gondeby, 1411, is in the centre of the choir pavement. The fine and interesting choir screen and loft (pulpitum) is dealt with at length in another chapter by the writer.

THE SEPULCHRAL BRASSES OF LINCOLNSHIRE

BY THE REV. G.E. JEANS, M.A., F.S.A.

I propose in this paper to establish the point that Lincolnshire has not hitherto been given sufficient credit among antiquaries in general for its share in the great national treasure of monumental brasses. Brasses are in themselves among the most beautiful and the most durable of monumental records. They can reproduce details of armour and costume with a delicacy which is scarcely possible in the most sumptuous stone or marble monuments. The great majority are of such convenient size that they can be rubbed on a single large sheet of paper; and, unlike altar-tombs, can be studied all at once. And furthermore, for these and other reasons, brasses have long attracted a special body of devotees among antiquaries, some of whom will rub and record a brass with loving zeal, while they will hardly look at the church which contains it, or at any of its other records in tomb or window. Thus it may be that our brasses have been better examined and figured than any other form of monumental effigy.

Nevertheless, I may claim to have shown in my list of Lincolnshire brasses, republished from _Lincolnshire Notes and Queries_, that a good deal still remained unexplored in this and, therefore, probably in other counties. Brass-lovers (no convenient single name has yet been invented) have naturally turned to the counties where brasses are to be found in almost every church, such as Norfolk, Suffolk, and Kent, or the northern and eastern ring of London; and the best of these have been splendidly illustrated in different forms by J.S. Cotman, the artist (1819), Mr. E.M. Beloe, the Rev. E. Farrer, W.D. Belcher, and others. None but casual single illustrations of the Lincolnshire brasses have been published. But I should think that none of those who saw Mr. William Scorer’s magnificent collection of rubbings of them, at the meeting of the Archæological Institute at Lincoln in July 1909, could doubt the claim of Lincolnshire to a much higher place than has been generally granted hitherto among the counties of brasses. The great long series in Boston Church, and the glorious, though fearfully maltreated, one in Tattershall Church were seen on that occasion _in situ_, and there is another great display in the county at All Saints’, Stamford, besides the many instances of one noble brass, or sometimes two, as at Spilsby and Gunby St. Peter’s. One of the most learned and accurate brass-lovers I have ever met, the late Rev. C. G. R. Birch, told me that in his opinion Lincolnshire, in the proportion of _valuable_ brasses to the whole number remaining, stood perhaps first among the counties.

* * * * *

I will now place the brasses under different categories to show how well Lincolnshire would come out in a County Championship in almost every class.

First would come the _series_, say of not less than six, in a single church. These are of course rare everywhere. Even in a county so overflowing with brasses as Norfolk, only about half-a-dozen churches would be able to qualify. Lincolnshire, as I have just said, has three. That in Tattershall Church is beyond all doubt one of the finest series in England, in spite of its heartrending maltreatment. There are seven brasses here, of which no less than four are of the first rank, namely, the great one of Lord Treasurer Cromwell, those of his two nieces—Joan, Lady Cromwell, and Matilda, Lady Willoughby d’Eresby—and the brass of a Provost of the College. Besides these there are two interesting brasses of priests and one of a civilian, 1411. Every brass in this noble set deserves study.

Next comes Boston, which, as being almost the greatest of English ports in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, having a special connection with the Low Countries, and being one of the great centres of merchant guilds, must at one time have been among the richest in England in this kind of memorial. Here there are no less than seventeen brasses, including what are little more than fragments, ten of which are effigies or the remains of figure brasses. Two of these, those of Walter Pescod and his wife and the unnamed priest of about 1400, are of the first rank, and exceedingly valuable for the figures of saints in the canopy shafts of the former and the orphreys of the latter.

All Saints’, Stamford, has eight brasses, six of which are with effigies, one very fine and all interesting.

We turn now to the _earliest_ brasses, which are of course very valuable. The first period in most books is taken to be the reigns of the first two Edwards, 1272-1327; and of this period there are only nineteen or perhaps twenty in all England, of which Lincolnshire has two, at Buslingthorpe and Croft. Everybody knows that the premier brass is Sir John d’Aubernoun’s at Stoke d’Abernon, Surrey, because that is dated 1277. But the extremely interesting half effigy of Sir Richard de Boselyngthorp, unfortunately not dated, is certainly not much later than Sir John d’Aubernoun, and, as I suggested and Mr. Macklin agrees, may be even a little earlier. Buslingthorpe is a very remote church, and there is no rectory house near, so it is to be hoped that some special care is taken about this precious monument. The one at Croft is somewhat similar, but is generally regarded as from ten to twenty years later.

Taking now the classes of people who are represented in effigies, we may regard them as mainly coming under five heads—knights or noblemen in armour, priests, ladies, merchants, or judges. How does the county come out in these?

In _Knights_ there is a fairly representative sequence. Beginning with the Buslingthorpe and Croft brasses just mentioned, we have then Sir Henry Redford at Broughton, and Sir Andrew Luttrell at Irnham (fourteenth century); Lord Willoughby at Spilsby; and others at Laughton, Gunby, Covenham St. Bartholomew, South Kelsey, and Holbeach (early fifteenth); Robert Hayton at Theddlethorpe (1424); the grand brass of Lord Cromwell at Tattershall (1455); Henry Rochforth at Stoke Rochford (1470); Sir William Skypwyth at South Ormsby (1482); and several of the sixteenth century, as at Norton Disney, Ashby Puerorum (two), Horncastle, Harrington, and Hainton (a tabard).

In _Priests_ the list is only moderate, but it is headed by the fine one at Boston in the sacrarium (_c._ 1400), and the grand late one of a Provost at Tattershall, whom I take to be John Gyger (_c._ 1510). There are two other priests at Tattershall—William Moor (1456) and William Symson (1519). Another interesting brass of a priest is that of William de Lound (_c._ 1370) at Althorpe in the Isle of Axholme. This was covered up by coats of paint daubed over the altar-tomb on which it was set, so that it was only discovered at the restoration of the church. The brass of a priest in cope (_c._ 1490), at Fiskerton, is interesting as having been lost, but fortunately re-discovered by Bishop Trollope in a shop at Lincoln. The rest are unimportant.

In _Ladies_ the county would claim high rank if it were only for the beautiful brasses of Lord Cromwell’s nieces and co-heiresses, Joan, Lady Cromwell, and Matilda, Lady Willoughby d’Eresby. Lady Cromwell’s effigy, with long flowing hair kept back by a jewelled bandeau (which looks as if the brass had been engraved before she was married), I regard as the most graceful figure on a brass in all England. Both are fine studies of dress. Their date cannot be accurately fixed, since they are certainly earlier than 1497, the year of Lady Willoughby’s death; but in my list, in _Lincolnshire Notes and Queries_, I have given reasons for believing that they were engraved between 1460 and 1480. The next finest is of another Lady Willoughby, Margery, who died in 1391; it is in the Willoughby Aisle, now kept locked, in Spilsby Church. There is another effigy of a lady with flowing hair, Elizabeth FitzWilliam, 1522, at Mablethorpe. A fine figure of a lady, _c._ 1400, was discovered at Gedney in 1890. She was probably of the Roos family, who held the manor. She wears the nebular head-dress, with hair flowing from under it. The only other lady with costume of much interest is one, probably a Skypwyth, at South Ormsby. Ladies represented with their husbands are seldom very elaborately treated as to their costume. About 1480 they had the “butterfly” head-dress, which one would suppose must have been as annoying to their husbands and brothers as the modern lady’s gigantic hat.

Turning now to _Civilians_, Lincolnshire has several brasses of great merchants, though more might be expected in what was in the Middle Ages one of the chief trading counties with the Continent. The finest of these probably was the great brass of Walter Pescod, 1398, now in the sacrarium of Boston Church, though it has lost the wife’s effigy altogether, the feet of the merchant himself, the inscription (happily recorded by Gervase Holles), and part of the superb canopy. For a study of saints in the smaller figures it is, though out of its true place, now happily placed for comparison with the contemporary priest on the other side of the altar. The next important brass of a merchant is that of William Browne, the founder of the great hospital at Stamford, in All Saints’ Church there, where there are others of the same family also. Simon Seman the vintner, standing on two wine-casks, in St. Mary’s, Barton-on-Humber; and the two Lyndewodes, father and brother of the author of _Provinciale_, at Lynwode. And if judges are to be counted with civilians, the interesting brass of William de Lodyngton, Justice of the King’s Bench of Common Pleas, in the rebuilt church of Gunby, close to Burgh station, must not be omitted.

Now let us turn our attention to peculiar types of brasses, and see how we stand in these. I will take three interesting types—cross brasses, palimpsests, and brasses of local workmanship.

The _Cross_ is not, I should say, a type that one would wish to be largely extended, as it seems to sacrifice the main object of the brass; but that it is capable of much grace is shown by the beautiful though mutilated cross at Grainthorpe, which stands on a rock in the sea, with carefully drawn fishes of five kinds swimming round it.

Of _Palimpsests_, or brasses used a second time, there is one of the most interesting in England at Norton Disney. This brass of the Disney family is notable as a very late instance (_c._ 1580) of armour. The reverse is the larger part of a plate with a long Dutch inscription relating to the founding of a chantry with daily mass in a now destroyed church at Middelburg in 1518. No doubt the brass was soon stolen, together with the endowment of the mass, in the Reformation. But the interest does not end here. Not many years ago it was found that the whole of this brass is in England, the smaller portion having been used again for one of the Dauntesay family, also _c._ 1580, at West Lavington in Wiltshire. There are several others, including one at Boston, with a lady on each face, and one of Sir Lionel Dymoke at Horncastle, which has a Flemish inscription on the reverse.

_Provincial workmanship_ needs, of course, a good deal of technical knowledge to detect. The immense majority of English brasses were made by London artists, and the only provincial schools seem to have been in Lincolnshire and Yorkshire. One small mark usually found in provincial work is mentioned by Haines, namely, that the hands are held apart, one on each side of the breast, as in Lord Willoughby’s brass at Spilsby.

I must here mention two very singular brasses to be found in the county. I do not know of any instance of bodily infirmity commemorated except in the curious brass of William Palmer, 1520, at Ingoldmells. He has beside him a “stilt” or crutch, and in the inscription he is called, “William Palmer wyth yᵉ stylt.”

The brass at Edenham is—or rather was, for it is now taken into the church for safety—quite startling, being formerly on the west face of the tower, forty feet from the ground. It is of an archbishop, and when the Lincolnshire Architectural Society went to Edenham in 1888, and the brass was there described by Bishop Trollope, I remember that much amusement was caused by the episcopal figure looking so much like a rough portrait of the good bishop himself. It may, however, be taken as certain that this is not a sepulchral brass, but part of a representation of the giver of the tower, _c._ 1500, since the rivets of another brass, the donor kneeling, can be detected on the other side of the west window lower down. It must then be of a saint, and so may be assumed to be St. Thomas of Canterbury. It is, however, well worth mention here.

Lastly, I turn to the inscriptions. There are many rather curious ones dotted about the county, but they are mostly too long to be worth transcribing in full. I will give, therefore, two only, from Wrangle and Lusby.

At Wrangle, on the tomb of John Reed, a merchant of the Staple of Calais, and his wife, is a marginal inscription running round a large slab, which has been broken in parts, but was copied by Marratt. The introduction of the verse part is curiously abrupt, and seems to need some link. It runs: “_They for man when yᵉ [winde blows make the mill grin]de. and ev. on thy own soule have thou [a minde. that thou givest w]yth thy hande that shalt thou finde. and yᵗ thou levys thy executors comys far behinde. do for your slefe whill yᵉ have space. to pray ihu of m̅cy and grace i̅ heuen to haue a place._”

In the tiny church of Lusby, close to the battlefield of Winceby, there is a small brass plate on a slab which bears, as far as I can make it out, the date 1555. It has a pretty little inscription in verse as a dialogue between a wife and a husband. It runs:

“_My flesh in hope doth rest and slepe_
_In earth here to remayne._
_My spirit to Christ I gyve to kepe_
_Till I do rise agayne._”

“_And I wyth you in hope agre,_
_Though I yet here abyde._
_In full purpose if Goddes will be_
_To ly down by your syde._”

I hope now that I have sufficiently proved my point as to the great value and interest of the Lincolnshire brasses. Mr. Macklin in his small work, _Monumental Brasses_, made a kind of tripos for the counties, in which Lincolnshire, though taking honours, only won a third class. In his larger and greatly improved book, _The Brasses of England_, in “The Antiquary’s Library,” this list disappears, and I should be surprised if he would not now raise the county to his second class. At any rate, some twenty brasses of great importance or fine workmanship, together with many rare or even unique instances of particular types, are amply sufficient to establish a claim to considerable distinction.

ON MEDIÆVAL ROOD-SCREENS AND ROOD-LOFTS IN LINCOLNSHIRE CHURCHES

BY THE EDITOR

In many times and in many places religious men have loved to veil or screen off those parts of their House of God which they considered more particularly sacred, from the “profanum vulgus.” The veil of the Jewish Temple, the veil which stretched across the Saxon chancel arch, the chancel-screens from the earliest days of Gothic to our own in the Church of England, the “Jubé” in France, Belgium, and Germany, the “screens and ambones” of Italy, and the “Iconostasis” of the Greek Church (different in position though it be), all testify to the widespread character of this custom. The very word “chancel” itself is derived from the Latin _cancelli_—a lattice-work or screen.

In the decrees of the Second Council of Tours, A.D. 557, “lay persons were not to enter the chancel, which is divided off by screens, except to partake of the sacrament of the altar.” A complete screen extended all round the choir later on. Eusebius describes the choir of the Church of the Apostles, erected by Constantine at Constantinople, as enclosed by screens or trellis work, marvellously wrought: “Interiorem ædis partem undique in ambitum circumductam, reticulato opere ex aere et auro affabre facto convestivit.”[97] Professor Willis describes the screen of old St. Peter’s at Rome as follows (and an engraving of it is also given by Pugin): “In front of the steps (to the altar) were placed twelve columns of Parian marble, arranged in two rows; these were of spiral form and decorated with sculpture of vine leaves: the bases were connected by lattice-work of metal or by walls of marble breast-high. The entrance was between the central pillars, where the _cancelli_ or lattices were formed into doors. Above these columns were laid beams or entablatures upon which were placed images, candelabra, and other decorations; and indeed the successive Popes seem to have lavished every species of decoration in gold, silver, and marble work upon this enclosure and the crypt below. The entire height, measured to the top of the entablature, was about 30 feet; the columns, with the connecting lattices and entablatures, formed, in fact, the screen of the chancel.”[98] At San Clemente, at Rome, the chancel is divided off by a screen wall all round, being 4 feet 6 inches high; each ambo, or reading-desk for Epistle or Gospel, is in the middle of the north and south walls and faces east. Between this choir and the sanctuary is a cross wall of marble, 6 feet high, with an opening in the centre. These existing screens are probably due to Adrian I., and date from the year 790, but they are almost certainly on the original lines.[99] At Giotto’s Chapel of the Arena, Padua, the chancel is formed by marble screens on each side of the nave, leaving a broad entrance-way between them, and enclosing about one-third of its length. Against the west sides of these screens are altars, each with a small carved marble reredos; whilst on the east are steps leading to the two ambones: that on the north being a book-rest, carved in marble, and fixed with its face to the east; that on the south of iron, and turning upon a pivot.

Thus even in Saxon times the choir of Canterbury, which extended into the nave, was enclosed by a breast-high wall. And Gervase tells us of the choir of Conrad (A.D. 1130), “that at the bases of the pillars there was a wall built of marble slabs, which, surrounding the choir and presbytery, divided the body of the church from its sides called aisles.” The same choir of Canterbury is now enclosed by the very beautiful screen built by Prior d’Estria. Rochester again has a solid stone wall round its choir, and the same is the case at _Lincoln_ (though never a monastery). “The choir, as a rule, was occupied,” says Dr. Jessopp, “exclusively by the monks or nuns of the monastery. The servants, work-people, and casual visitors who came to worship were not admitted into the choir; _they_ were supposed to be present only on sufferance. The church was built for the use of the monks: it was their private place of worship.” And, as we shall see presently, the screens were still more solid where there happened to be a parish church in the nave.

Pugin, in his well-known work on the subject of rood-screens, points out another reason for these walled-in choirs (besides the one just mentioned), _i.e._ that they shut off in some degree the cold draughts of air from the monks during their frequent and lengthy services in buildings which at that time (and for many a century to come) were not warmed at all. Later still the cathedrals, other than monastic, like _Lincoln_, and collegiate churches like Southwell, followed suit in separating off the choir from the nave. In all these cases, as a rule, the screen was solid, but when the same movement spread to parish churches, the chancel was divided off by a screen of open work, there being no need for the N. and S. screens, as a rule (though Newark has them), so that the congregation—here regarded as an integral part of the worshippers—might see the altar and all the ceremonial. In such Saxon churches as have retained their Saxon chancel arches, these are very narrow, and originally in all probability were closed by a veil, more or less completely. This is alluded to in an Anglo-Saxon Pontifical, “extenso velo inter eos (_i.e._ clericos) et populum,” and by Durandus (who was Bishop of Mende, a small city in the Lozère district of France from 1286 to 1296), “interponatur velum aut murus inter clerum et populum.” Later, when the use of the veil ceased, and these chancel arches were felt to be, through their narrowness, a great obstruction to the view from the nave into the choir, openings were made on each side to partially circumvent this difficulty. At _Bracebridge_, near Lincoln, for example, the chancel arch, exceedingly narrow (being only 5 feet wide), is of Saxon date and has a round-headed opening—a hagioscope—on either side.

The Lenten veil (a remnant of former use), which was hung across the chancel between the screen and the altar, is alluded to in _Lincoln Cathedral Statutes_, “velum pendere ante altare,” and at _Leverton_, as “the veil of the temple hanging between the choir and the altar in Lent.” At _Heckington_ and _Claypole_ still remain the hooks used for this purpose.

But besides separating the clergy and laity, the western portion of the screens, where they were solid, or the upper part where they were open, served to support, or was in close relation to, a horizontal beam—the rood-beam—which stretched across the chancel arch, and itself supported the rood. This, of course, was a crucifix, and, as Fuller says, “when perfectly made and with all the appurtenances thereof, had not only the image of Our Saviour extended upon it, but the figures of the Virgin Mary and St. John” (the former on the north at Our Saviour’s right hand, the latter on the south side and so at His left).

It may be mentioned here that roods carved in stone have been found on the outside of Saxon churches. Thus, on the west side of the porch at _Branston_, near Lincoln, are the remains of such a sculpture under a three-headed arch; also at _Marton by Stow_ a Saxon crucifix rudely carved in stone was found during the restoration in 1892, and another existed at Headbourn Worthy, Hants.

A Saxon or Runic cross was found in the north aisle in restoring _Colsterworth Church_; and at _Barton on Humber_ (St. Peter’s), over the inside of the eastern arch of the tower, is a stone slab with a face carved in the upper part of it.

These roods of wood or metal were apparently early introduced into churches, with or without the screens as mentioned before: “A.D. MXXIII. Kanutus Rex dedit ecclesiæ Christi in Doroberniæ” (vel Duroverniæ = Canterbury), “portum de Sandwico cum corona sua aurea quæ adhuc servatur in capite crucis majoris in navi ejusdem ecclesiæ.”

Stigand again, who was buried at Winchester in 1069, according to John of Exeter: “Magnam crucem ex argento cum ymaginibus argenteis in pulpito ecclesiæ contulit.” Aldred, the last Saxon Archbishop of York (1060-1069), erected “Supra ostium chori pulpitum aere, aere auro, argento auro, mirabili opere Teutonico exornavit,” in Beverley Minster. Mention is made of a black marble crucifix at Waltham in the time of Canute, and the rood at Battle Abbey is spoken of as existing in 1095. Gervase, in describing Lanfranc’s cathedral at Canterbury (1174), says: “A screen with a loft (_pulpitum_) separated in a manner the aforesaid tower” (the central one) “from the nave, and had in the middle and on the side towards the nave the altar of the Holy Cross. Above the loft, and placed across the church, was the beam, which sustained a great cross” (a crucifix almost certainly), “two cherubim, and the images of St. Mary and St. John the Apostle.”

Occasionally, as at Chipping Ongar, we find indications of a rood-beam having been placed across the _east_ end of the chancel, immediately above the altar, and, of course, carrying on it the rood. At _Stow_, in the chancel, in the jambs of the side windows north and south of the altar space, there was a fracture and displacement of the mouldings exactly in the same place in each, no doubt to support a beam for the crucifix.

In some cases these altar-screens were double walled, with a kind of platform or gallery on the top, whereon the sacred relics could be displayed, while the space between the walls served as a sacristy or feretory. At _Lincoln Minster_, for instance, the original reredos-screen was double, with a long narrow space, serving as a sacristy, between the two screens lighted by the quatrefoils, still open in the back screen wall, with aumbries, &c., in the walls, and a newel-stair at the north-west corner leading to the tabernacle above. A similar arrangement, according to the late Precentor Venables, of a narrow slip sacristy behind the reredos may be seen at St. Nicholas’, Great Yarmouth, and at Llantwit in South Wales. A somewhat similar example exists at Beverley Minster; at the back (_i.e._ eastwards) of the altar-screen is a platform, reached by a stair at the north end, and supported by three elegant arches on shafts, with a vaulted roof, an excellent specimen of Decorated work. At York Minster, again, there was a double screen—

“The wooden screen behind the high altar of the same work as
the rest of the quire, surmounted with triangular coats-of-arms
containing each a rose, &c., of the common form, supported
behind by angels. It was handsomely painted and gilt. It had a
door at each end which opened into a place behind the altar,
where antiently the archbishops used to robe themselves at the
time of their enthronization, and thence proceeded to the high
altar, where they were invested with the pall. On the top of
this screen was a gallery for musick.... By the taking away
of this the altar was carried back one arch to a stone screen
behind it of excellent Gothick architecture.”

Professor Willis believed that this was the place where the portable feretrum or shrine of St. William was kept. At Winchester Cathedral, behind the high altar (the beautiful altar-screen of which will be mentioned presently), is a raised platform in the feretory, cut off from the choir by the reredos-screen, with originally an arcade in front of it, making a platform of about 10 feet broad. This probably sustained the shrine of St. Swithun, and also those of SS. Birinus, Edda, and Ethelwold. The eastern face is ornamented with tabernacles of Decorated work, and the floor under the platform is carried by a small vault, to which entrance is gained below the range of tabernacles. This vault is supposed to be the “Holy Hole” of the records.

An altar-screen with rood, &c., is to be seen in an illustration of the hearse of Abbot Islip in Westminster Abbey. At St. Cross, Nuremberg, a rood with St. Mary and St. John and several angels, contained in very fine and lofty tabernacle work, surmounts a carving of the Deposition by Veit Stoss, which is protected by triple doors, with paintings by Wohlgemuth, over the high altar. This may also have been the case at Chichester, as in the years 1276 tapers are mentioned: “Supra trabem pictam supportantem crucifixi imaginem viii ejusdem ponderis.” In the Laudable Customs of Hereford, in the twelfth century, there is an allusion to the beam in “Missa accenduntur xiii cerei supra trabem”; and, on great feasts, “iv ante majus altare quinque in basinis xiij super trabem et vij super candelabra.” Joceline de Brakelond tells us that at Bury St. Edmunds, in the Abbey Church, there was a “Crux que erat super magnum altare, et Mariola et Johannes, quas imagines Stigandus archiepiscopus magno pondere auri et argenti ornaverat, et Sancto Ædmundo dederat.” The following quotations from the Liber Niger of _Lincoln Minster_ (about the year 1236) refer to this in all probability: “Item in eisdem festis invenire, xvi cereos supra trabem secus altare,” &c. “Omnes prescripti cerei exceptis cereis super candelabrum ereum et trabem secus altare,” &c. “Item in principalibus festis debent ponere xvj cereos parvos super trabem secus altare et illuminare et extinguere et in depositione habere unum illorum quem voluerint.”

Then on the choir-screen top, whether of wood or stone, there was a gallery—the rood-loft which came into general existence in the fourteenth, although as we have seen it was mentioned in the eleventh century, and in parish churches often the only evidence left of this rood-loft’s existence is the stone staircase of approach.

The _names_ of the rood-loft are various: Holy Loft, Candlebeam, Pulpitum (Englished as poulpete, &c.), Rood Soller or Soler (the latter a word used by Chaucer, who speaks of the “Soler Hall at Cantebrige”; it is interesting to note that there is still a _Garret_ Hostel Lane and Bridge there). In Norfolk it was called the Perk or Perch; in France, the Jubé; in Germany, the Letter; and in Wales, Lloft y Grog. The screen itself has been termed the trelyse, as in Mr. Gibbon’s _Early Lincoln Wills_ we find one R. Bradley bequeathing 3s. 4d. for “gilding of the trelyse.” Also it was termed spur or spere, as J. H. Parker gives us in a contract for a rood-loft at Merton College Chapel, _c._ 1486, “with speres and lynterns for two awters.”

As there is a great difference between the solid stone screens of cathedral, monastic, and collegiate churches, and the light wood ones of parish churches, both in material, design, and uses, it will be well to describe each class separately.

The solid chancel-screens of cathedrals, abbeys, and collegiate churches have first to be considered. They may conveniently and naturally be divided into two classes, of both of which _Lincolnshire_, in spite of much ambonoclastic energy, can still show examples.

_Those cathedrals which were originally monastic, and those monastic churches which had parochial naves._—In these (and it will be seen later, more especially in the Cistercian foundations), there were two solid stone screens, of which one was at the east end of the nave, with an altar, the Jesus altar, or Holy Cross altar, or parish altar, in the midst of its western front, and a door on either side. This was the rood-screen, and would have the rood with its belongings on its loft or on a transverse beam a little above it. (Mention will be made presently of the parish rood-screen and loft which was still further westwards.) Between the two screens was an interval, generally of one bay, which, among the Cistercians, was allotted to the inmates of the infirmary, the sick, old, and infirm. At Norwich Cathedral this interspace is the Chapel of Our Lady of Pity; the same was probably the case at Peterborough, where an altar is named, “of Our Ladies Lamentation,” and at Durham.

Passing through the interval we should come to the second screen, also of stone, and with a loft. On this would be the organ, and there would be a projecting feature eastwards from which the Gospels, Epistles, and Lessons might be read, or portions of the service chanted. A brief extract from The Rites of Durham,[100] followed by a citation of examples, some of which are destroyed and some fortunately extant, will make this arrangement, I hope, quite clear. After speaking of “the pair of organs over the quire dore” in the eastern screen, the writer says:—

“There” (_i.e._ in the same loft) “was also a Lanterne of
wood, like unto a Pulpit, standing and adjoyning to the Wood
Organs over the Quire door, where they had wont to sing the
nine Lessons in the old time on principal dayes, standinge with
their faces towards the high Altar” (pp. 27-28).

Then, with regard to the western screen, his account runs as follows:—

“In the Body of the Church, betwixt two of the highest Pillars
supporting, and holding up the West side of the Lantern,
over against the Quire door, there was an Altar, called
_Jesus_-Altar,” &c. “And on the backside of that saide Altar
there was a fair high stone Wall: and at either end of the
Wall there was a door, which was lock’d every night, called
the two Rood-doors, for the Procession to go and come in at;
and betwixt those two doors was _Jesus_-Altar placed, as is
aforesaid” (p. 54).

This altar was protected by a screen “of wainscot,” and had a “table” or triptych over it:—

“There was also, in the height of the said Wall, from pillar
to pillar, the whole story and Passion of our Lord wrought in
stone, most curiously and most finely gilt. And also above
the said Story and Passion, was all the whole story and the
Pictures of the twelve Apostles,” &c. “And on the height above
all the foresaid story from Pillar to Pillar, was set up a
border very artificially wrought in stone with mervellous
fine colours, very curiously and excellent finely gilt, with
branches and flowers,” &c. “And also above the height of all,
upon the Wall, did stand the goodliest and most famous Rood
that was in all this land, with the Picture of _Mary_ on the
one side of our Saviour and the Picture of _John_ on the other,
with two splendent and glistering Arch-angels, one on the one
side of _Mary_ and the other on the other side of _John_,” &c.
“Also on the backside of the said Rood before the quire door
there was a loft,” &c. (pp. 56-57).

This arrangement is scarcely mentioned by writers on foreign rood-screens, though Pugin gives a hint of it in his description of the Domkirche—the Cathedral—of Lübeck, which has a central altar and side doors, whereof he has given a plate, and two bays to the westward of this screen there is a rood-beam supporting the rood. There is an iron screen also, with central altar and side doors, in Freiburg, Switzerland.

In England this double screen seems to have been most characteristic of Cistercian churches. Thus, at _Louth Park Abbey_ there was a stone screen, called the pulpitum, at the west end of the choir, extending across the nave, whereon stood the organs, &c. In the middle of the screen was the choir door or lower entrance (_inferior introitus_). The bay west of the pulpitum (which was sometimes of considerable thickness, with an altar on either side the quire door, as at Jervaulx) was open, and formed the retro-quire, where those who were extra-chorum for a time (_e.g._ the _minuti_, _i.e._ those who had been let blood), and such of the infirm as could attend, might hear the services.

West of this bay was a second screen pierced with doors at either end, and having an altar in the middle against its western side. On top of this screen was the rood-loft, with the great rood and its attendant images. A bay westward was a low fence screen (the wainscot screen alluded to in the above quotation from The Rites of Durham), and the remainder of the nave was fitted up for the conversi or working brothers. At Fountains, J. T. Micklethwaite noted the same arrangement. At Bolton, in Yorkshire, where the nave is in actual use as the parish church, the altar stands precisely in the position of this Jesus or parish altar; the piscina may be seen close at hand in the south wall, and the Late Perpendicular oak screen, once in front of the altar, is now at the west end.

Where there was a parish service in the nave of a conventual church, the nave was more or less completely shut off from the choir. The parish altar then would stand, as first mentioned in the case of Bolton, against the east wall of the nave, and consequently there would be a parish rood-screen and rood-loft still farther down the nave, so as to cut off a chancel, so to speak, for the parish service. At _Freiston Priory_ (although this eastern separating wall of the nave is modern, the choir having perished), the altar is approximately in the position of the people’s altar, and the staircase to the rood-loft, and the traces of the rood-screen (which exists in a neighbouring parish church—that of _Fishtoft_), show that three bays of the nave were cut off by it. Almost exactly the same arrangement exists at Dunster, where the choir was ordered, in 1499, to be used exclusively by the monks, and the nave to be appropriated to the parishioners. A coëval rood-screen extends across the nave, cutting off two eastern bays, with a rood-stair in the south aisle, showing its present position to be the original one.

At Edington Priory Church, Wiltshire, a new altar has been erected in the position of the original parish one against the screen. At Westminster Abbey the choir runs far into the nave (cutting off the five eastern bays), and is separated from it by a high and deep screen of which the inner stonework dates from the thirteenth century, but the fronting is modern. One bay west was the rood-screen; below it, on the floor of the nave, was the Jesus altar, at which mass was said in presence of the people. Above, in the rood-loft, was a second Jesus altar, from which, on certain days, the Epistles and Gospels were read.

Also, as everywhere in churches before the Reformation, there were altars in connection with the rood-screens and rood-lofts. For instance, in 1400, Lady Johanna, late wife of Sir Donald de Hesilrigg, bequeaths “To the convent of the house of Gysburgh, in Clyveland, one vestment of camaca to serve in the pulpit there, and one chalice of silver gilt.” At _Grantham_ Parish Church, where there was a stone rood-screen, we know, from a mention in the Patent Rolls, that there was an altar in the rood-loft. In York Minster there was an altar in the loft before the image of the Saviour, on the south side of the church, for two chaplains, founded in 1475-6 by Richard Andrew, Dean of York.[101] In the same place an inventory is given, of the date 1543, of the belongings of the “altar of the name of Jhesu in the rudde loft.”

At Norwich Cathedral the pulpitum still exists as the organ loft (with a staircase north and south from central passage to loft), between the twelfth piers of the nave (from the west end), the space between these and the eleventh is taken up by the Chapel of Our Lady of Pity—the ante-choir. Between the eleventh piers is Bishop Le Hart’s screen, with central door and an altar on either side, that on the north dedicated to St. William, that on the south to St. Mary. Further west, between the tenth piers, was probably a wooden screen, and either on this or above Bishop Le Hart’s screen the rood would be placed.

An early screen at St. Albans, built by Abbot Richard, 1097-1119, is described as a wall of stone finished with a wooden capping, the altar being raised in the centre towards the nave. The present screen, called St. Cuthbert’s, cuts off three bays of the nave westwards of the lantern. In the centre is the altar of the Holy Cross, with a door on each side opening into the choir eastwards. If the rood-beam and figures were not supported by the screen, they must have been probably westwards of it (_eastwards_ in Murray’s _Cathedrals_), and supported by their own screen perhaps.

The only instance in _Lincolnshire_ of a screen of the kind just described exists in _Crowland Abbey_. Here the north aisle of the nave seems to have been used for the parish church (as it is now) from early times, but the arrangement in the nave is the same as that mentioned above, though I know of no remains of any eastern screen having been discovered. The splendid western Norman arch of the central tower is screened across below by a solid wall, pierced by two side doors, and on the west side there is a space betwixt them for the altar. Also, on this side, there is a band of panelling of sunk quatrefoils, extending right across the screen a little above the doors (a wooden reredos and panelling probably filling up the plain portions of this wall); while the eastern face of the screen is ornamented with a panelled band of quatrefoils alternating with shields, and the rest of the surface is covered with panelled tracery of Perpendicular date. The doorways on this side are four-centred, with square-headed mouldings above, the spandrils being filled in with foliage. This screen most likely was built by William de _Croyland_, who was master of the works from 1392 to 1417. In 1539, probably the whole arch was built up solid, with a square-headed two-light window in the middle, so as to allow the nave to be used as the parish church when the choir and the rest of the abbey was pulled down. The roof of the nave fell in about 1688, after which the north aisle would again be used as the parish church. It is interesting to recall the fact that at Leominster a new north aisle was built to serve as the parish church, and so also at Blyth.

This central position of the altar, with a doorway on either side, was a general arrangement in the Jubés of Germany, of which Pugin’s plates of those in Münster Cathedral, the Domkirche and the Hospital, Lübeck, the Dom at Hildersheim, and that at Gelnhausen may serve as specimens. G. E. Street gave a sketch of a choir-screen with central altar on its western front, and a door in either side, at Zamora Cathedral (_Gothic Architecture in Spain_, p. 92). And a rood-screen at Wechelburg, Saxony, with crucifix, SS. Mary and John, central western altar, and side doors, is figured in Fergusson’s _Handbook of Architecture_, vol. ii. p. 583.