Chapter X: Preface (10)

Tetford, which adjoins Belchford, lies to the north-east of Horncastle, at a distance of about 7 miles; though a village with a population under 500, it almost aspires to the rank of a small town, as it possesses more than one street; has several shops, and a number of fair residences. Letters _via_ Horncastle, arrive at 10 a.m. At the date of Domesday Book, it was one of the limited number of parishes which then possessed a church. Saxon thanes, by name Elmer, Arnwi and Britrod, held lands here. Thomas, Archbishop of York, formerly a Canon of Baieux, in Normandy, and one of the Conqueror’s Chaplains, received a grant of land here from his Sovereign; and we find his vassal, Gilbert, occupying under him two carucates with eight villeins and seven socmen, who had two more carucates (240 acres) among them. The Norman Gozelin, son of Lanbert, also held land here, which was occupied by his vassal, Walter, with five socmen, and three villeins. At a later date (13th century) the family of De Hesele were proprietors in Tetford, and benefactors to the church, also presenting to the benefice of Somersby, as well as to that of Tetford (“Linc. N. & Q.” 1894–5, pp. 228–29). Then we find the Cormayles family holding lands here, and presenting to Somersby. The Crevequers, and the Brayboeufs had the presentation to a chapelry here, of St. Bartholomew, besides owning land. After them followed the Barkworths, and to them succeeded the Thimbelbies. In the Court of Ward’s Inquisitions (3, 4, and 5, Edwd. VI., vol. v., 91) we find Matthew Thimbleby, who married Anne, daughter of Sir Robert Hussey, about 1521, seised of the advowsons of Tetford and Somersby; and his widow married Sir Robert Savile, Knt., who (through her apparently) was seised (according to Chancery Inquisition, post mort., 28 Eliz., 1st part, No. 116) of the manors of Tetford, Somersby, and several others. Sir Robert disposed of some of the property thus acquired, selling Tetford to George Anton, Esq., through whose daughter Elizabeth, married to Sir Edward Hussey, the property passed to the Hussey family, whose head, Lord Hussey, of Sleaford, for his treachery at the time of the Lincolnshire Rebellion, was attainted and executed, by Henry VIII. A widow, Elizabeth Hussey, presented to the benefice as late as 1690. For many years a branch of the Dymoke family were located at Tetford, until, under the will of the late Lionel Dymoke, they succeeded to the Scrivelsby property, and removed to Scrivelsby Court. Sir Hugh A. H. Cholmeley is now lord of the manor, but the principal landowners are Meaburn Staniland, Esq., F. S. Dymoke, Esq., the executors of George Westerby, and many small freeholders. There was formerly a Tetford Literary Club, having as its members most of the gentry of the neighbourhood; one of whom, Langhorne Burton, of Somersby, celebrated the association in an amusing poem, of some 200 lines, published in 1772. It is given in Weir’s History, of date 1828. Dr. Samuel Johnson attended the meetings of this club, when visiting the Langtons of Langton Hall; and he is said to have played skittles at the White Hart Inn, in Tetford. There are traces of an ancient encampment in this parish, probably the scene of struggles between Britons and Saxons. It lies between the two main streets, to the south, and on one side is skirted by a beck which forms one of the feeders of the Somersby stream, sung of by Tennyson as “The Brook.” Here, Leland (“Collectanea,” vol. i., pt. 2., p. 509) states that Horsa, brother of Hengist, the Saxon General, was defeated by the Britons, under Raengeires; and the name, like that of Belchford, would seem to be of British origin; “Tat” being a Druid deity, and “fford” meaning a road.

The church, dedicated to St. Mary, is a structure of Spilsby sandstone, of some considerable antiquity, and of larger proportions than most of those in the immediate neighbourhood. For many years it has been in a sadly neglected condition, although of late it has been somewhat improved. It is capable of being made an edifice fully worthy of divine worship. The Puritan square pews survive for the most part; and a western gallery, or singing loft, now disused. The nave has north and south aisles of three bays, and a clerestory above. These, with the tower, are in the Perpendicular style; the south aisle has some Decorated features; and a lancet window in its west end, in which a crocheted open canopy has been introduced, tells of a still earlier church. The north aisle was rebuilt on the old foundations in 1826. The chancel arch has a continuous moulding, without capitals. A closed arch in the north chancel walls shews a former chantry on that side. The east window is modern. There are traces in the south aisle indicating a former chantry altar. The font is a plain octagon, the basin relieved by foliage at each angle. On the south wall of the nave is a monument to Captain Edward Dymoke, cousin to Champion Lewis Dymoke, who died 1739; with breastplate and helmet suspended above. There are three other Dymoke tablets; and one to J. Emeris, Fellow of Corpus xsti. College, Rector, and Head Master of Louth Grammar School. The tower is massive, somewhat low, though well-proportioned. It has small corner pinnacles, and immense gurgoyles. On the right of the doorway, within the west porch, is a stoup, rising from a stone bench. There are three bells; one weighs 1 ton, 1 cwt., 3 qrs., 7 lbs., and has the inscription “Sancta Maria, ora pro nobis”; the second bell weighs 16½ cwts.; the third weighs 11 cwts., cast at Barton, by Harrison. The Sanctus bell stands on the floor. One of these bells is said to have formerly belonged to the church at Fulletby, when there was a larger fabric there than at present. In 1887 a Jubilee clock was put up, by subscription, made by Messrs. Maddison and Blythe, of Horncastle. In 1903 the present rector, the Rev. W. Wood, inaugurated, by a bazaar, a scheme for the much needed restoration of this church, in which, it is to be hoped, he may be successful.

On the south side of the church is the base, and part of the shaft, of a churchyard cross. Upon the former, several shields are cut; one of these, within a quatrefoil panel, bears three bars in pale, four mullets bendwise; and upon another is the same bearing, impaling a cinquefoil, between 6 crosses plain. These were the Thimbleby bearings.

Tetford has been the scene of traditionary witchcraft, the following anecdote having been related by a quondam inhabitant, whose widow still survives. It has some resemblance to the story of the phantom hare at Bolingbroke Castle.

Once upon a time, there lived in Tetford an old woman possessed of magical powers. It was said that she could assume the form of a hare, and, emerging from her cottage through the “cat hole” in the door, could roam the country round at will. She had a son who was given to poaching. The events on a particular occasion are recorded as follows: “Two men are walking on the road from Somersby to Tetford in the evening; one carries a gun. Just in front a hare passes through the hedge, and comes into the road. “Bang at her, Jack,” says Joe. Jack puts gun to shoulder, and aims, but for some reason, does not fire. He lowers his gun, then tries again, but with the same result. “Dal it, Joe,” says Jack, “I cannot; summat stops me. Tack thou the gun!” Joe seizes the gun, but the hare is, by this time, nearly out of shot. However, he fires, and exclaims, “Its noa goa, she’s hit i’ the leg, but it woant stop her.” They quicken their steps, lest the shot might have attracted a keeper. Jack goes to the cottage where his mother lives, while Joe goes to his home further down the “street.” Jack goes to the pantry and empties a very roomy pocket, inside his fustian coat, of its contents, we will not say what. He brings out a mug of ale, and sits down by the fire, to enjoy it. His mother is sitting on the other side of the fire, rather doubled up in her chair, and with a look of pain on her wrinkled face, “What’s up Mother?” asks Jack. “I’ve a bad pain i’ my leg,” she says, “it came on all of a sudden, a few minutes ago.” “Rub it wi’ some o’ them oils ye’ve got,” says Jack; “Let’s hev supper, and then ye’d better goa to bed.” “I’ve hed my supper,” she says, “ye were so long o’ coming, that I did’nt wait o’ ye, an’ I’ll goa to bed now.” She gets up with difficulty, hobbles across the room, and slowly mounts the “lether” (ladder) to her bedroom. Jack gets his supper, and then goes out to the ale-house not far off, for a final pot, and chat, before “turning in.” There he meets Joe, and they have a pipe together. In the course of conversation Jack says, “Mother’s bad i’ the leg, she was ta’en all of a sudden a little afore I comed hoam.” Joe laughs, and says, “I’d upode it, she’s bewitched hersen, instead of some un else.” Next morning the old woman does not get up. She calls to Jack, he goes to her, “My leg is worser, gie me some tea, and then goa to the wise man at the town an’ ask him what’s the matter wi’ me, for I feel that queer. Get my stocking out o’ yon chest, and I’ll gie thee a crown to gie him for his fee.” To be brief, Jack attends to her wants, gets his breakfast, and walks off some miles to the neighbouring town. There he has a jug of ale, to refresh him after his walk, and so goes to the wise man. He finds him at home, and tells his errand. The wise man takes him into a back room, tells him to sit down, while he lays out a big book on the table, and opens it at random. Jack cannot read, but he would not be any wiser in this case, if he could, for the page is covered with curious characters, which none but the wise man can read, and a sceptic might suggest that he cannot either. The latter then turns to a cupboard in the corner of the room, opens the door of it, put his head inside, and _sotto voce_, mumbles something. Having done this for a moment or two, as if conversing with some “familiar spirit” in an unknown tongue, he throws the cupboard door wide open, whereupon out flies a large “bumble-bee,” which circles, buzzing, round the room, and at length settles on the open book. The wise man examines the particular letters, or characters, on which the bee has settled. Having studied them carefully, he says to Jack, “When did your mother first feel the pain?” “Last night,” says Jack,” afore I came home to supper.” “When did you shoot that hare?” asks the wise man. “I did not shoot a hare at all,” replied Jack. The wise man consults the characters again, and then says “No! I see you did not, but it was your gun that shot her.” At this Jack is astonished, and tells the whole particulars. The wise man says, “your good spirit kept you from shooting, because she was your own mother, but your mate shot her with your own gun. Don’t you know that your mother’s a witch, and goes out as a hare whenever she likes? Why, I heard of her running across the road in front of a team of horses, in her form of a hare and they were so scared that they nearly dragged the waggon into a dyke. However,” he adds,” she’ll soon be well again. Here’s the remedy: Catch a hedgehog, take a comb, and with it saw off one of its legs, and tell her to rub her leg well with the hedgehog’s leg, and the pain will soon go.” Jack journeyed home in high spirits, taking a pot or two on the way, by way of self-congratulation; and my informant deponeth that all came about as the wise man foretold.

Outside the boundary of Tetford, to the west, and strictly speaking in the parish of Salmonby, a number of flint arrow-heads have been found on Warlow farm, near a spot named “Warlow Camp.” They are of a trilobite form, finely chipped, and about one inch in length, three-quarters of an inch broad at base. They belong to the neolithic period; and from the very crisp character of the chipping, it is evident that they have not been used; there was probably a factory of such implements on the spot. Several specimens may be seen at the house of Mr. Westerby, tenant of the farm.

WADDINGWORTH.

Waddingworth is a small village, about 6 miles from Horncastle, in a north-westerly direction, between Gautby and Wispington. The church, dedicated to St. Margaret, is now in a very dilapidated condition. The rectory is held at the present time (1904) by the Rev. L. Dewhurst, along with that of Gautby, where he has a fairly commodious house, with permission from the Bishop to hold only occasional services at Waddingworth Church, as that at Gautby is almost equally convenient for the people of both parishes.

The register dates from 1640, but entries are found in the registers of Baumber, for this parish, from 1695 to 1779. At Bardney is the nearest postal and telegraph office. Letters come _via_ Horncastle. It is altogether a very out-of-the-way spot.

The antiquity of Waddingworth is probably shown in its name, which, according to some, consists of the Saxon “Wodin” (or “Odin”), their God of war (which name also appears in our Wednesday, or Wodin’s day), and the Saxon “worth,” an inclosure, which also appears in several place-names in the neighbourhood, as Benniworth, Faldingworth, Hag-_worth_-_ing_ham. The last of these names, however, suggests a derivation which I am inclined to think more probable. Divide the name into three elements, and we get wad, or “woad,” a plant greatly valued by the Britons, who dyed their bodies with it (and which name would continue through the Saxon period, as it does still), and “ing,” Saxon for meadow, and “worth,” Saxon for enclosure, the whole meaning an “enclosed field of woad”; enclosed, doubtless, because of the value of the woad. It is still a valuable crop, and frequently mixed with the Indian “Indigo.”

The earliest actual mention of Waddingworth is in Domesday Book, in which there are two references to it. In one of these we are told that the Conqueror gave part of the parish to the proud and powerful Bishop of Durham, William de Karilepho, A.D. 1082, who was also Chief Justice of England. There were 4 carucates of land, _i.e._, 480 acres, rateable to gelt (a very small tax), the whole being 6 carucates, or 720 acres, with 20 acres of meadow (“ings”) and 25 acres of underwood. The other notice is that the same amount of land was given by the Conqueror to one of his distinguished Norman soldiers, Eudo the son of Spirewic. Eudo, it will be remembered, was a comrade in arms of Pinco, the latter of whom acquired large property in the neighbourhood of Spilsby, and his descendants eventually became the Lords Willoughby d’ Eresby (_i.e._, Spilsby). Eudo received the manor of Tattershall and several others, one of these being a moiety of Waddingworth. He was the founder of Kirkstead Abbey, which he richly endowed. This leads to a curious coincidence. Dr. Oliver, the learned writer of “The Religious Houses on the Witham,” mentions that among the possessions of Tupholme Abbey were lands in Waddingworth. What more natural than that, in days when spending one’s wealth on so-called religious works was a passport to heaven for the giver, and for his forefathers or his descendants, Eudo should have devoted some of his wealth to the Religious House at Tupholme, as well as to the Religious House at Kirkstead? Tupholme was founded by two brothers, Alan and Gilbert de Nevil, in 1160, Kirkstead was founded 1139. At the dissolution of the monasteries, Henry VIII. seized monastic property, and this is why we find the King as Patron of Waddingworth in “Liber Regis,” and also in much later authorities. It is, indeed, now in the patronage of the Lord Chancellor, as representing the crown. The Conqueror seized it by the right of conquest; Henry VIII. seized it as the plunderer of monasteries. This carries us down to nearly the middle of the 16th century. There were, however, other small proprietors who owned land, besides these two prominent parties. At an early period, there is a “Final Concord,” so called, or agreement, of the 13th century, as follows:—“On October 19, A.D. 1200, Petronilla, the widow of Richard de Waddingworth, claimed of Robert de Waddingworth, tenant of a 3rd part, viz., 20 oxgangs (or 300 acres), with 6 tofts, in Waddingworth, besides lands in Bucknall and Horsington, as her dower, given to her by her late husband, the said Richard; and Robert surrendered all claim to the lands in favour of the said Petronilla for her life, for which Petronilla gave him 2½ marks.” After the dissolution of the monasteries, though the crown retained the patronage of the benefice, the land seems to have passed into several other hands. In 1559, Roger Fulstow, of Waddingworth, claimed of his sovereign, Queen Elizabeth, protection against the outrages committed by the mad Earl of Lincoln, who lived at Tattershall; and was well known for his violent proceedings towards the Saviles of Poolham, and others. {219a} He (Fulstow) was afterwards sent on an embassy to the Landgrave of Hesse. Macaulay, the historian, says that a Fulstow, of Waddingworth, incurred the displeasure of Henry VIII., and was punished, though he does not say how. This was probably the same man earlier in life, and the employment of him, by Elizabeth, shows that, having annoyed the father, he recovered the favour of the daughter. But even earlier than this, Thomas Dighton, of Waddingworth, gent. (son of Edmund Dighton, and grandson of Robert Dighton, lord of the manor of Stourton) was intimate with the Dymokes, and was visiting at Scrivelsby Court at the time of the “Lincolnshire Rising,” against Henry VIII. (otherwise called the Pilgrimage of Grace), in 1536, which led to the merry monarch pronouncing his well-known criticism on the men of Lincolnshire, that they were “the most beastly in all the realm.” These Dightons came of a mercantile stock in Lincoln, where they were Mayors and Sheriffs, and amassed large fortunes. One of them, Robert, of Stourton, married Joyce {219b} St. Paul (or vulgarly Sampoole), daughter and heiress of William St. Paul of Snarford, who was also involved in the Rising aforesaid; the chief member of the family being Sir George St. Paul, who died childless in 1614, when, with him, the family became extinct. In the lists of those gentry who contributed to the defence of the country, when the Spanish Armada was expected, are the names of G. St. Paul, who contributed “1 lance, and 2 light horse”; while Thomas Dighton, of Waddingworth, of that day, contributed also 1 lance, and 1 light horse. In the year 1546, Robert Hoberthorn, a native of Waddingworth, became Lord Mayor of London (“Weir’s History,” vol. i., p. 313.) We have an early presentation to the Benefice of Waddingworth, in John Smith, clerk, appointed by Queen Elizabeth to the Rectory, _vacant by the resignation of Thomas Rumney_; this institution took place in 1563. {220a} This notice implies a good deal more than it contains to the uninitiated. Thomas Rumney had doubtless to resign, or rather was expelled from his living by “the bloody” Queen Mary, because he was a Protestant, and the living, like many others, remained for some years vacant, until the Protestant Queen Elizabeth, succeeding her sister Mary, had time to look about her, and she in 1562 filled the vacancy by instituting John Smith.

In the Stixwould Register there is an entry relating to Waddingworth, stating that Mr. George Townshend died at Halstead Hall, and was buried at Waddingworth “on Wensdaie night, the 13 of February, 1627.” The cause of this is supposed to have been, that he was a Romanist, and therefore could not legally be buried at a Protestant place of worship. Mr. Rutland Snowden, and Mrs. Frances Townshend, were married “the 25 December, being Christmas daie, 1628.” This looks rather as if, after a year’s delay after the death of Mr. G. Townshend, to be respectable, Mrs. Townshend, his widow, married Mr. Rutland Snowden. {220b} I find another record that Mr. George Townshend of Halstead Hall, by will, dated 1627 (he evidently dying rather suddenly) left his land in Waddingworth to his second son, George, the executor being Nicholas Larke, parson of Waddingworth. This Mrs. Townshend was the widow of an Evington of Halstead Hall, so that she had three husbands, Rutland Snowden being the last, and by him she had several children. He was the son of the Bishop of Carlisle. They lived, it is recorded, at Horncastle, as they naturally would do, the Bishop being then officially the Lord of the Manor of Horncastle, having his episcopal residence near the present manor house. He was buried at Horncastle in 1654, and his wife in 1658. Richard Evington, of Halstead Hall, according to an old record, on his death in 1612, left 40_s._ to Abdeel and Joel Larke, sons of the above-named Mr. Nicholas Larke, parson, of Waddingworth. The will of George Snowdon, of Waddingworth, was proved in 1704. He left his lands in Waddingworth and Horsington to his nephew, Edward Dymoke, of Lincoln, gentleman, and to his heirs. It is not clear who this George Snowdon was, but Jane Snowden, granddaughter of Rutland and Frances Snowden, married Charles Dymoke, of Scrivelsby, and died childless in 1743; and Abigail Snowden, daughter of the same Rutland and Frances Snowden, married Edward Dymoke, younger son of Sir Edward Dymoke, of Scrivelsby, from whom sprang the Tetford branch, who now hold the property of Scrivelsby and the Championship; and so Waddingworth passed to the Dymokes. There is still a tablet in the church of Waddingworth referring to these parties. It is a slab of black marble in the pavement, in the centre of the nave, and runs as follows:—“Here lyes ye body of Edward Dymoke, Esq., son of Edward Dymoke, of Tumby, in the County of Lincoln, Esq., grandson of the Honble. Sir Edward Dymoke, Champion of England. He married Mary, daughter and co-heiress of John Lodington, Esq., {221} relict of Captain Booth, of Market Rasen, in the county of Lincoln, and died April 29, A.D. 1729, aged 78 years, leaving Jane, his only surviving daughter and heir, married to Edward Southwell, Esq. of Wisbeach, in the county of Cambridge. Here also lies interred Abigail, daughter of the said Edward Dymoke and Mary his wife, who died March 22nd, A.D. 1708, aged 17 years.” Above this inscription are the crest, a sword and mantle, and on the shield, two lions, crowned, passant. In course of time the manor passed, through the above marriage, to Edward Southwell, of the Trafford Southwell family, who now live at Wroxham, in Norfolk, and who, with the Vyners of Gautby, own the parish.

The old Manor House, or Hall, stood in the centre of the parish, and was at one time occupied by the Calthrop family, until they removed to West Ashby Manor, near Horncastle; the last of them residing there is remembered by the present writer, and there is a memorial in Ashby Church of Richard Calthrop, an officer who fell during the siege of Algiers. John Calthrop afterwards removed to Stanhoe Hall, in Norfolk. The old Hall of Waddingworth was a ruin 60 years ago, and afterwards pulled down. The outline of it can still be traced. The interesting old Rectory, of mud and stud, still survives as a cottage, to the north of the churchyard. There is an inverted base of a churchyard cross still remaining on the south side of the Church. Over the west door, which is of the Perpendicular style, but sadly dilapidated, is a reticulated window, and above that, let into the wall, is an Early English tombstone, or, more probably, a “consecration cross,” carved as a “cross flory,” in heraldic phrase.

It is recorded that some ancient armour was some years ago found in a cottage in the parish, consisting of the helmet, breast-plate, back-piece, and gorget of a cavalier, probably a fugitive from the battle of Winceby.

The Church, although now so dilapidated, was rebuilt in 1808, the previous edifice having been a much handsomer and larger structure.

There was a very remarkable case of robbery, which occurred near this parish, on January 2nd, 1841, and which is recorded in the “Stamford Mercury,” of March 12th, of that year, with which we may fitly close our records of Waddingworth.

Mr. James Turner, a considerable farmer, of Waddingworth, declared, on his own public affidavit, that he was attacked by robbers when riding home from Horncastle market, for, be it remembered, gigs were then little used; men rode to and from market, and carried their wives behind them on pillions (as the present writer has frequently seen, as a boy). To use Mr. Turner’s words, he said, “When I had proceeded a quarter-of-a-mile through the village of Thimbleby (which he needs must pass), a little after 6 o’clock, p.m., I observed three men, walking in the middle of the road, about 100 yards before me. I was riding at a canter, as it was moonlight. Two of the men walked in the ‘ruts,’ on either side, and one in the middle. He was a little behind the others, and he remained so, till I nearly rode over him. I tried to turn out of the road, to avoid him, but I then found he had seized my horse by the rein. The two men said ‘good night,’ and I replied to the same effect. I then said to the man, ‘What! Are you going to rob me?’ He made no reply, and I struck him with my stick on the head. The mare I was riding then began to plunge, and the other two took hold of me, and dragged me from my saddle. I lit on my feet, but the mare got away. I struggled with the men, and got away from them. The two stood on my left, and as I saw the third coming in on my right, I struck at him, and he for the moment gave way, but then, supported by the others, he again sprang at me, and seized me by the collar (which in those days were large). The three then threw me to the ground, and placed a stick across my throat, and so kept me down. They hurt me considerably, but I lifted the stick across my throat to my chin, which was much bruised. They then tore my waistcoat open and took from my pocket a book containing blank cheques and memorandums, and my game license. On this, they began muttering among themselves, and the one who first attacked me, said, ‘Where’s your money?’ I threw myself, as much as I could, on one side, to protect my ‘fob,’ but they tore my breeches open, and took from my right-hand pocket two canvas purses, in one of which I had two notes and some silver, and in the other £5 in gold. They took all this, and an old-fashioned silver watch, and some loose coins besides. I begged them not to murder me. They took from my mackintosh a small bundle and threw it on the road, which contained my banking book and memorandum book, both of which I subsequently recovered. They then struck, or kicked, me violently in the ribs, and ran through a gate into a field, towards Edlington.”

Mr. Turner testified to his recognising the men, as it was a moonlight night, and he had seen one of them before, in Bucknall, an almost adjoining parish. Further evidence was very strong against them. Anne Dawson, whose husband kept the “Nag’s Head” Inn, at Bardney, proved that, earlier on the same day, three men had called at the Inn, for refreshment, and took the road for Thimbleby. Joseph Aukland also testified that, in returning from Horncastle market, the same evening, he saw the men only a few yards from the spot, before the robbery took place. At the “Ram” Inn, at Stourton, three men called about 8.30 p.m., to have some ale, for which they paid, apparently (as was noticed) having plenty of money, and asked their way to Market Rasen. On the next morning, Sunday, at 7.30 a.m., one of them entered the “White Hart,” the leading hotel in Rasen, and had refreshment. Later, two of them called at a shop at Glentham, and produced two £5 notes (such as were stolen). They were then on their way to Gainsborough. They subsequently went to the “Dog and Gun” Inn at that place, and the landlord changed a £5 note for them, and a Mrs. Watson another of the same value. One of them, next day, bought a new coat at Gainsborough, for £4 13_s._; one prisoner was taken at Lynn, in Norfolk, wearing the said coat; and the others were subsequently captured, where is not stated. The Judge pronounced the evidence to be most decisive, and the sentence was “Transportation for Life.” The victim of this outrage arrived at his home late that night, in rather a sorry plight. I think readers of this account will agree that Mr. James Turner made a very brave stand against such odds. He must have been a powerful man, as his son, Mr. Jabez Turner, certainly was in his day. I have myself been inside the house, for refreshment, of Mr. James Turner when shooting on the farm, but the robbery took place before I was old enough to carry a gun. So end our annals of Waddingworth, with not the least stirring incident in its history.

WINCEBY.

Winceby is situated about five miles south-east of Horncastle, on the way to Old Bolingbroke. It is approached by a good road, but leading up and down hills so steep as to render travelling slow, either for man or beast. The village itself stands on high ground commanding very extensive views; the church of West Keal being a conspicuous object to the east; the lofty tower of Boston looming in the distance, southward, many miles away; Tattershall Castle and Church, the churches of Coningsby, Heckington, and others in the Sleaford direction being also visible, beyond the extensive tracts of fen barred by woods, which intervene; while, on a clear day, the prospect extends across the Wash to the low-lying coast of Norfolk. Northward stretches a tract, less extensive, of varied, undulating ground, with the wooded heights of Warden Hill, Brinkhill, &c., forming the distant elevated horizon. In early spring, or on a bright autumnal day, it would be difficult to find a wider range of view, or more varied colouring, to please the eye. The parish is small, being but little more than 800 acres in extent, comprised in one large farm, the homestead of which, a large, lofty, and somewhat bleak-looking house, occupied by Mr. Edwd. Patchett, forms, with its surrounding buildings and well-filled stackyard, a prominent feature. Yet this humble village has had its associations in the past of more than ordinary interest.

There are few parishes which have not some tradition connected with the supernatural; and here, on the left of the road to Winceby, in a hollow in Slash Lane, about half-a-mile before reaching the village, there stood until recent years a large boulder in the field close by. It was supposed to cover hidden treasure, and various attempts were made at different times to remove it, sometimes with six, or even eight horses. At one of these attempts, his Satanic Majesty, having been invoked by the local title of “Old Lad,” appeared, it is said, in person, whereupon the stone fell back, upsetting the horses. On another occasion a black mouse, probably the same Being incarnate, in another form (compare assistance rendered by a black mouse to the devil, in Goethe’s Faust), ran over the gearing of the horses, with a similar result. Eventually, as a last resort, to break the spell, the boulder was buried, and now no trace of boulder, black mouse, or Satan’s (Linc. “Samuel’s”) foot-print remains.

Domesday Book records that the Saxon Agemund held lands here, and in the adjoining Claxby Pluckacre; and that Walter, a vassal of the wealthy Norman Gozelin, also held land and a mill of the yearly value of 4_s._, while the still more powerful Norman, Hugh de Abrincis (Avranches, in France), Earl of Chester, also received a grant of land in this parish from his uncle, William the Conqueror. Of this “Baron bold,” we may observe, in passing, that he acquired the surname of Lupus, or “the wolf,” from his many daring deeds. In addition to almost the whole of the county of Chester, which gave him his title, he held about 20 manors in Lincolnshire, 22 in Leicestershire, 12 in Norfolk, 32 in Suffolk, besides several more in other counties. Indeed, so large were his possessions, and so great his power, that the terms of the royal grant to him stated that he held his properties, not “de capite,” or “in chief,” of the Sovereign, as was almost universally the case, but “tam libere ad gladium, sicut Rex ipse tenebat Angliam ad coronam,” _i.e._, as freely by his sword, as the King did by his crown. It is recorded of him, that he founded and endowed several monasteries, in England, and elsewhere, “for the good and salvation of his soul”; and it is näively added, that “if a tithe of that be true which is related of him by the Chronicler, Ordericus Vitalis (p. 787), he had needs enough to make some such amends for his doings.” He, however, seems, in his latter days, to have attained to a proper sense of his actions, since he closed his career, after a long illness, by adopting the tonsure, as a monk of the Abbey of St. Werberg, of Chester, in his own Barony. Few of these baronial possessions, however, remained long in the families of those favourites to whom they were granted by the Conqueror, solely by the right of conquest. It had been asked long before, even by a Jezebel, “Had Zimri peace, who slew his master?” And there were Norman Omris and Zimris. It was a matter of natural, as well as of retributive justice, that, when the grip, by which the strong held his own, lost its vigour, even the strongest should make way for “a stronger than he.” And although the proud Lupus lorded it over demesnes in Hag, Salmonby, Tetford, Brinkhill, Langton, Greetham, and in many another parish, beside Winceby, yet at a later period we find another powerful family, the Gaunts, in the ascendant, and the Duke of Lancaster, John de Gandivo, was “Dominus Manerii de Winceby” (Harl. MS., Brit. Mus., vol. iii., p. 770); and Walter de Gaunt granted to the Abbey of Bardney, which had been re-founded by his father, Gilbert de Gaunt, after being in ruins some 200 years, the tithes of his Fee in Winceby. (Dugdale’s “Monasticon” ed. 1682, p. 143). But not yet even was “fixity of tenure” a feature of the times. Every dog has (only) his day; other owners followed not now known, and Winceby is now also owned by a name unknown to fame in the representative of the Hill family, who purchased the estate from C. Manwaring, Esq. But the Domus Dei should be a spot undesecrated by earthly broils, a fold unviolated by “the wolf,” and although the Church, erected at Winceby, possibly by the proud Lupus himself, “for the good of his soul,” has, in its original fabric, passed away, yet there still stands on the same site, a place of worship, small indeed, but not unworthy of its holy purpose. Dedicated to St. Margaret, the special Saint of purity undefiled, {227} it fitly stands on an isolated knoll, which on one side looks down on a deep gorge; with the few cottages of the, some 60, inhabitants clustering near at hand; with the great farm house, Winceby hall, standing out eastward, and the picturesque modern Rectory, peacefully embowered in trees and shrubbery, one field away to the west, the calm and comfortable retreat of the Rev. C. E. Bolam, Rector of Lusby, the Rector of Winceby being the Rev. Brice-Smith, resident at Hameringham.

Until recent years, the church had, in the course of time, degenerated into a small, mean thatched edifice; but, during the late incumbency of the Rev. William Wordsworth Talfourd, acting in the spirit of that “high priest of nature,” whose name he bore, the fabric was reconstructed in early English style; the nave being built at the expense of the late Mr. Charles Hill, of Winceby House, and the chancel by the rector. It consists of nave, chancel, porch, and bell turret. Its chief features are as follows:—In the north wall of the nave are two pairs of narrow pointed windows, within debased arches; the south wall has the same, with a porch, having narrow pointed arch. The font, of stone, has a circular bowl, relieved by four small quatrefoils, at the four quarters, a circular shaft, and square pediment. The west window is a cinquefoil, surrounded by eight small quatrefoils. The pulpit and seats are of light deal. The east window of the chancel, the gift of Miss Talfourd, is of three distinct trefoiled compartments, of coloured glass, the central one rather larger than the other two, and surmounted by a quatrefoil. The subjects are, in the centre, the Crucifixion; in the northern one, Christ blessing little children; in the southern, the Last Supper. In the south wall of the chancel is a single-light trefoil, window, with three small quatrefoils above; its subject being, Christ and the Magdalen, or “Noli me tangere”; a brass tablet states that this is “in memory of Frances Talfourd, March 9, 1862.” The sedilia in the chancel are of handsome, modern, substantial oak. The roof throughout is of pitch pine. The one bell hangs in a turret supported by eight pilasters. The living is in the gift of the Lord Chancellor. The register dates from 1579. Among the entries are the following:—“1773, Thursday, June 28th, — Spenly buried. He was servant to Thomas English, and instantly killed with thunder and lightening in the house of his master, about 5 o’clock the evening before.” In the two following, we do not see the object of the financial computation, unless the party making the entry was hypochondriac on the subject of £ s. d. “1698 Mary daughter of Tho. Jeffery, ffarmer (not worth six hundred pounds) and Anne, his wife, baptised, October 23rd.” “1699. A similiar entry of John Bowsley, ffarmer, being not worth £600.”

The main interest of Winceby is as being the scene of the decisive battle, commonly called “Winceby fight,” between the forces of the Royalists and the Parliamentarians which took place on Wednesday, Oct. 11, 1643.

We have only space here for a brief account of that engagement, which was important in its effect. We quote from a curious contemporary record, written by a Parliamentarian, and who apparently took part in the events described. {228} The Parliamentary army, then in the neighbourhood of Boston, after suffering a reverse near Grantham, and gaining a doubtful victory at Gainsborough, had been reinforced by Sir Thomas Fairfax; and Cromwell was also on his way to join it, with a valuable body of horse. To prevent this formidable combination, the Marquis of Newcastle from the north, hurried towards Boston, and despatched Sir John Henderson, to intercept Cromwell. Forces belonging to both sides had been encamped, on the previous night, in Horncastle, Thimbleby, Edlington, and neighbouring villages, where skirmishes had occurred. The main body under Manchester, had moved from near Boston to Bolingbroke, which was held by Royalists. On the Monday night, Major Knight, in the name of Manchester, had summoned the Castle of Bolingbroke (to surrender); but was answered that “his bug-bear words must not winne castles.” Whereupon Knight resolved the next evening, to break open the Church doors, “and there to mount a morter-piece, and fire the Castle.” But the events of the next day prevented this. “Those of the Castle (the Royalists), killed one or two of our men; and, as Major Knight, and the Quarter-master Generall Vermeyden were viewing of it, made some shots at them, and one of them hit the said Quarter-master Generall a little below the ancle, but pierced not the skin, only bruised his leg.” Seeing that they were determined to resist, Manchester then moved to East Kirkby; and his forces were encamped there, at Stickney, and at different points around. Cromwell was encamped at Winceby, in advance, with his “light horse and dragooners,” where he passed the night. The Royalists, under Sir John Henderson, pressed forward from Horncastle, in order, if possible, to attack Cromwell, before the main body had come up. But Cromwell did not object to hard blows, and though his “horse were extremly wearied with hard duty,” he calmly and sternly awaited the event. “About twelve of the clock . . . we began to descry the enemy coming toward us. So soon as our men had knowledge of (this), they were very full of joy and resolution, thinking it a great mercie that they should now fight. Cromwell led the van.” He gave the watchword “Truth and Peace,” and then gave out a Psalm; and his troops moved on, singing it, to charge the foe. They sustained a hostile fire along the whole of their line, but they rode on unshaken, at full speed. A second volley, at close quarters, killed Cromwell’s charger; and as he rose to his feet, “he was knockit down again by the gentleman who had charged him, who ’twas conceived, was Sir Ingram Hopton;” and for a moment he lay as slain. But he who, as a child, had escaped death in the arms of a monkey, was not to be so easily extinguished; he recovered consciousness, and mounted a trooper’s horse; his opponent, Sir Ingram Hopton, was slain in his turn; and “this first charge was so home-given (says the Chronicler), and with so much admirable courage and resolution by our troops, that the enemy stood not another, but were driven back upon their own body, which was to have seconded them, and at last put them into a plain disorder; and thus, in less than half an hour’s fight, they were all quite routed. Our men pursued, and did execution upon them about five or six miles; all the way being strewed with broken arms, dead men and horses.” Two hundred horses were afterwards found left in Bolingbroke Castle, which had been abandoned by the Royalists in a panic. Many hundreds of the defeated fugitives rushed frantically into “waters up to their arm-holes {230a}; they that lay slain in the highways were very many; and divers of qualitie, for there were brave bodies stript naked. The number of horses taken were about 2000, of prisoners about 1000, . . . of arms 1500, and not 100 of the enemie (’twas verily believed), to be found in a body; of 94 standards 35 were taken, whereas (he adds), wee but lost very few of our men, none of note, (and), wee hardly found above one of our officers hurt.” With the Puritan’s faith he exclaims, “God himself did it all, taking away the enemie’s hearts, and giving resolution and courage to our men; to him therefor be all the honour and glory of this famous victory.” {230b} This was a greater blow to the Royalist cause than has commonly been estimated. Hitherto the struggle had been carried on with varied fortune, but as yet the Royalists had had no reason to despair, and had even achieved considerable successes. At Winceby it may be said, the tide decidedly set in against them. The struggle was prolonged; but Lincoln was taken by Manchester’s forces in the following May (1644). In the same year was fought the disastrous battle of Marston Moor; and the even more fatal fight of Naseby in 1645. After that the issue was almost a foregone conclusion. As to the actual scene of the fight, the Royalists, from Horncastle, would seem to have advanced slightly beyond the village, before they encountered the enemy. The name of “Slash Lane,” westward, still surviving, tells its own tale of their wild flight towards the town, which they had so lately left full of high hope. The “clap-gate” farm at Holbeck, tells of hurried movements in the dark hours of the night. The Winceby registers record no increase of burials at the time. But tradition avers that many were interred by the peasantry on Scrafield hill-top. The one known burial is that of Sir Ingram Hopton, whose body, by order of Cromwell himself, was conveyed to Horncastle, that it might be interred in a manner worthy of one, in whom he recognised “a brave gentleman.”

WISPINGTON.

Wispington is situated about 4 miles from Horncastle, in a north-westerly direction; adjoining Edlington on the east, Baumber on the north, Waddingworth on the west, and Horsington and Edlington on the south. Letters arrive from Horncastle at 9 a.m. The nearest money order office is at Horncastle, and telegraph office at Baumber.

Like two of the parishes just mentioned as contiguous, the name of Wispington contains the Anglo-Saxon patronymic “ing.” A Saxon settler named Uisp, or Wisp, probably took up his residence here; his children formed the “family” of Uisp, or Wisp-“ing”; and the settlement or enclosure, which they occupied, was the Uisp-ing-town, or Wispington. {231} Under the ruthless rule of William the Conqueror, these early occupants would be displaced, and their land given to some favourite of that King; under whom possibly the late Saxon thane, and his family, might, at least, be allowed to labour as serfs. Accordingly we find, in the great survey made for the Conqueror, called “Doomsday Book,” because it recorded the doom of so many, whom he subjugated, or dispossessed, two mentions of this parish. The first of these, places it amongst the possessions of William de Karilepho, who had been Abbot of St. Vincent, but was promoted by the Conqueror to the Bishopric of Durham, as well as being made Chief Justice of England. Old Chroniclers say that he was a man of great determination, but regulated by judgment; and he ingratiated himself with the King, who gave him large possessions in Lincolnshire, and other counties; a quarrel, however, with the succeeding King, Rufus, so wounded his pride, that he died of chagrin. He held of the King, a large part of this parish, viz., 4 carucates (or 480 acres), 2 carucates of which were rateable to the tax called “gelt” (2_s._ to the carucate, or 120 acres). Wispington is there said to be “in the soke” of Great Stourton, and Kirkby-on-Bain, _i.e._, within the liberty, or under the jurisdiction, of those parishes. There was no resident proprietor at that date, but 9 sokemen (or free tenants) and 6 bordars worked the land under their “Mesne or Lord” the land being his “de-mense” or domain, _i.e._, Lordship. The second mention of the parish in Domesday gives its whole extent as 8 carucates (or 960 acres), divided between the above-named Bishop and another of the Conqueror’s favourites, not seldom named in these records, viz., Eudo, son of Spirewic, Lord of Tattershall, who claimed, over the Bishop, the lion’s share, namely, two thirds of the parish.

How long the Bishops of Durham continued in possession does not appear, but in the “Lindsey Survey” (circa A.D., 1114) Ranulph, Bishop of that See, had 9 carucates of land (or 1080 acres) in Wispington, Kirkby, and two other parishes; and, according to the old record, “Testa de Nevill” (p. 335), the Bishop of that day still held the same (circa 1214, A.D.); while in the 46th year of the reign of Edwd. III. (A.D. 1373), on the death of John Willoughby of Eresby, it is stated that he held all his manors, among which Wispington is named, “of the Bishop of Durham, by the service of being his steward, and carrying to the table the messes of meat, on the day of his consecration, and on the feasts of Christmas and Whitsuntide,” so that, at that date, the Bishop would seem to have been still the superior Lord of Wispington, as of the other connected Manors. (“Fragmenta Antiquitatis”; quoted “Linc. N. & Q.,” July 1896, p. 38).

After this period the ownership is not quite clear. But this we can state. We have seen that Eudo, son of Spirewic, owned two thirds of Wispington, by gift from the Conqueror. His son, Hugh Fitz Eudo, commonly called Brito, founded Kirkstead Abbey, in 1137, A.D., and that religious house, at a later period, became possessed of land in Wispington, and the benefice thereof. But meanwhile the ownership changed more than once. From the Lansdowne M.S. (207 e., f. 455) in the British Museum, we find that Walter Bek, {233} who had come from Flanders, late in the 12 century, married Agnes, daughter of Pinso, and became, through his wife, Lord of Spilsby, Eresby, Lusby, Wispington, and other parishes; so that Eudo, and his later representatives, seem to have passed from the scene, and the successors of his quondam companion in arms, Pinso, to have taken their place.

By a Court Roll (9. Richard I., A.D., 1198), it appears that Philip, son of Robert, “put in a plea against Henry Bek, for a Knight’s fee,” _i.e._, a certain portion of land “in Tattershall, Wispington, and Kirkby.” (“Architect S. Journ,” xxiv. pt. i. p. 39).

We further find, from “Testa de Nevill,” (p. 335, “Wapentake of Horncastle,”) that Simon de Driby, held, “of the Fee of Tattershall,” (circa A.D. 1215), lands in Kirkby, Waddingworth, Wispington, and other places under Robert of Tattershall; the Wispington portion, therefore, was probably that formerly held by Eudo.

When Walter Bek’s sons succeeded to his property, the eldest, Henry, received as his portion the manors of Spilsby, Scrivelsby, Wispington, etc. (Harleian MS., 3720, f. 23.)

With the beginning of the 14th century, another prominent family is found connected with this parish. Sir William Willoughby married Alice, daughter of John Bek, Lord of Eresby; and a “Feet of Fines,” of date A.D. 1304, (Lincoln, file 69, 31 Edwd. I.) shows that a law-suit arose between John Bek, plaintiff, and Robert Willoughby, defendant, as to the possession of lands in Wispington, Thimbleby, Langton, Woodhall, etc., and the advowson of Wispington, which ended in a compromise, Robert granting the lands and advowson to John, for his life-time, but to revert, on his decease, to Robert and his heirs for ever. (“Architect S. Journal,” xxiv. p. 52). The manor and advowson of Wispington thus passed to the ancestors of the Lords of Willoughby. In the next century, we find these transferred to Kirkstead Abbey, as shown by the following entry, in the “Kalendar of Patent Rolls 1399–1401”:—“1401, April 20. Licence paid in the hanaper for Philip de Dispenser, Knight; James Roos, knight; Eudo de Zouche, clerk; Richard de Wynnewick, clerk; Richard de Chesterfield, clerk; Henry Malbys, parson of the Church of Wylughby; and Thomas Fitz William of Mablethorpe, to grant in mortmain a toft and 4 bovates of land, in Wyspyngton, and the advowson of the Church of the same town, not held in chief, to the Abbot, and Convent of Kirkstede, in aid of their maintenance.” (p. 477). {234}

This was further confirmed, A.D. 1401, May 2, with the addition that the “Abbot and Convent of Kirkstede” might “serve the Benefice by a Chaplain, Monk, or Secular” (pp. 278, 279).

We are, after this period, unable to give (as has been done in the cases of some other parishes), a connected series of proprietors. There are however, various scattered records of individual owners, which possess some interest. In a Bardney Abbey Charter, lately recovered by the Rev. J. A. Penny, the present Vicar of Wispington, Thomas Sely of Wispington, and Henry son of Andrew, of the same place, are witnesses to a deed, of date May 22, 1281, signed in the Chapter House of that Monastery, “on the Sunday next after the Ascension of our Lord,” by which the Abbot of that House gives up for himself and his successors, all claim to his bondman, William, son of Peter Hardigray, with all his goods and chattels, in favour of Thomas Thorley of Gautby. It is worthy of notice, that, by another charter, this same Thomas Thorley, of Gautby, grants to the above William Hardigray, no longer a bondman, but Rector of Mareham, certain lands and tenements in the adjoining parish of Edlington. The two were, therefore, evidently close friends. This deed is witnessed by Henry, son of John, of Wispington, Simon Francis, of Edlington, William son of Master Bartholomew, of Thimbleby, and others.