Chapter IX: ARCHÆOLOGY—continued (2)

HORSINGTON.—About two miles from Stixwould, north-eastward, is Horsington, its name, probably, being compounded of the Saxon elements horse-ing-ton _i.e._, the village with horse-meadows; that the central syllable is not the patronymic “ing” is evident, since about a mile away we have, also, Poolham “Ings,” which are rich meadow lands on that, the adjoining, manor. The present church of Horsington is modern, having been built in 1860, of brick, with stone dressings, in place of a previous very poor thatched structure, into which one entered by a descent of two steps, with something of the feeling of descending into a dripping well. The present edifice is neat, but of no great architectural merit, and is already, in parts, becoming dilapidated, the stonework of the spire being much weatherworn. It is not, however, strictly speaking, the parish church, but rather a chapel of ease. The ancient church was “All Hallows,” the site of which is shewn by a mound in the fields to the south-west of the present village, at a point which is almost equi-distant from Stixwould in the south, Bucknall to the west, and Horsington village itself; and is said, traditionally, to have been the common church of all three parishes before their present churches were built. Separated from it now by a small drain is the old burial ground. Tradition connects this site with the Fire-ceremony of November, in British times, once prevalent in Asia, as well as Europe, and even in America. The beginning of the year was then fixed by the culminating of the constellation Pleiades, in November. On the first of the month bonfires were lighted, as they have been by the Welsh in quite recent times, and, along with the fire, the emblem of purity, offerings were made on behalf of the dead, the sacrifices of animals being so numerous on this and other days, that the month acquired the name of Blot-monath, _i.e._, Blood-month. The Venerable Bede, {156} tells us that, at the request of Pope Boniface, A.D. 611, the Emperor Phocas ordered, according to a general practice, that, on the site, in Rome, where “all the gods” had been worshipped, which was called the Pantheon, the filth of idolatry being abolished, a church should be erected in memory of the Blessed Virgin and all Martyrs; and on this principle, in other places also, the site of the heathen worship, and the day of its special observance, were transformed into the occasion and place of observance of the Christian festival of “All Hallows,” or “All Saints” day; and in the course of re-corrupting time the offering on behalf of the dead by the heathen, and the commemorative ceremony of the early Christian, passed into “prayers for the dead,” which became general in a later age. Further, to give their sympathies a wider compass, the old “Golden Legend” tells us that “Saynt Odylle ordeyned that the feast and remembraunce of all them that ben departed (generally) out of this worlde sholde be holden in al monasteryes, the daye after the fest Halowen (All Hallows even); the wyche thynge was approved after all holye Chyrche.” {157} This is the old Christian black-letter festival of “All Souls,” generally, as distinguished from the red-letter, “All Saints day.” Such are some of the old traditions which hang, like evergreen garlands, round our sacred places. Children may once have “passed through fire to Molech” where now the heaving turf shrouds the skeleton of a decayed church.

On the walls of the church are tablets with the following inscriptions:—“To the beloved memory of Frederick Evan Cowper Smith, Lieutenant, Royal Artillery, eldest son of the late T. F. Smith formerly Rector of this Parish. He died of Fever, brought on by over-exertion in the discharge of his duty, while on active service in Afghanistan, with the Kyber Line Field Force, on July 26th, 1880, when he had just completed 19 years of earthly life. Jesu Mercy.” A second is as follows:—“Sacred to the memory of Arthur Monro Cowper Smith, Captain in the Royal Field Artillery, and graduate of Trinity College, Cambridge; he died at Beira, East Africa, on Sept. 28, 1898, in the 36th year of his age, of injuries received in a grass fire while shooting big game on the Pungwe River. He was the second son of the Rev. T. F. Smith, B.D., late Rector of this Parish.”

Another tablet is in memory of the Rev. T. F. Smith, B.C., “formerly Fellow of St. Mary Magdalen College, Oxford, and Rector of this parish, who died May 21, 1871, aged 50.”

A fourth is to the memory of Colonel Bonar Millett Deane, second son of Rev. G. Deane, late Rector of Bighton. He died in South Africa, gallantly leading a column of the 58th Regiment, under General Colley, at the battle of Laing’s Nek, January 28, 1881, aged 46 years. “He fought a good fight, he kept the faith. Jesu Mercy.” He was a relative of the late Rector, the Rev. F. H. Deane, B.D., afterwards Rector of South Kilworth, Rugby.

A document in the parish chest shews that the burial ground was, at one time, _re-purchased_ for a burial, and fenced in, while other papers shew how this came about, viz., that the duty of the parishioners to keep up the churchyard fence had been neglected (as has also occurred in other places in this neighbourhood), and so the land lapsed, and had to be recovered. In these papers, both church and chapel are named as distinct, which again is confirmed by the Will {158} of John Kele, parson of Horsington, 26 January, 1540, in which he directs that his body shall be “buryed in the Quire of All Hallows,” and bequeaths to “the church of Horsington on mass boke (one mass book), on port huse (Breviary), on boke called Manipulus Curatorum”; he adds, “I also wyll that on broken chalyce, that I have, be sold, and _wared_ off the chancell of the chapell of Horsington; proved 17 Feb. 1540.” Here he is to be buried at All Hallows, and makes a bequest to the “Horsington Church,” this evidently again being All Hallows; but the money produced by the sale of the broken chalice is to be _wared_ (note the Lincolnshire word, _i.e._, spent) on “the chancell of the chapell.” The pilgrim from Woodhall Spa can find his way by a pleasant walk of 2½ miles, mostly through the fields, northwards from the Bath-house, or along the Stixwould-road, re-entering the fields a little westward of “Miser’s Row,” and so by Halstead Hall, and to All Hallows. We now proceed to later incidents in Horsington history. There are the traces of two old moated mansions, one on the right of the road going from Woodhall Spa, about a quarter of a mile before reaching the village: there is now a small farmhouse within the moat, which is shaded by its sallows or willow trees. Nearly opposite, a cross cut in the turf by the road shews where a man was killed some years ago. The other traces are to be seen in the field just to the south of the present churchyard. The field is still called “Hall close,” and the moats, ponds, and mounds cover some two acres. It has been the residence of a family of importance; and we find among the list of those gentry who contributed their £25 to the Armada Fund the name of Robert Smythe, --- of Horsington. In the register of burials is the entry, dated 1671, “Bridget Hall wiff of Robert Hall buried in her own yard Dec. 1st, 1671.” She lived at “Hall farm,” near the road from Horsington to Bucknall; and deeming it popish to lie east and west in a churchyard, she directed that her body should be buried north and south in her own garden. Some years ago the occupier, in digging a drain between the house and the road, came upon a skeleton lying north and south, presumably that of Bridget Hall.

Here is another odd circumstance. We now have our splendid county asylums for our lunatics, but the writer can remember the case of an unfortunate lunatic who was kept chained to the kitchen fire-place in a house in Horncastle, was never unchained, and slept on the brick floor. At Horsington the parish officers made special provision for the insane. In the parish chest there was, until quite recently, {159} a brass collar, to which was attached a chain for securing the unfortunate individual by the neck. The writer was lately informed by an old Horsington man, over 80 years of age, that the last occasion on which this collar was used was early in the 19th century. A villager then residing near the present blacksmith’s shop, and named Joe Kent, had two insane daughters, who had a very strong antipathy to each other, so that they had always to be kept apart, or they would have killed each other. My informant took me to what formerly was the garden of Kent’s house, and pointed out two spots where these two unfortunate creatures were, in fine weather, chained to the wall, one by the neck and the other by the waist, about 15 yards apart. When within doors they were similarly secured in separate rooms, treatment, surely, which was calculated to aggravate rather than alleviate their afflictions, but those were days in which rough remedies were too often resorted to.

Horsington was further connected with an incident which, had it not been nipped in the bud, might have had most serious national consequences, viz., what is known as “the Cato street conspiracy,” the leader of which was Arthur Thistlewood, a native of Horsington. His proper name was Burnett, the name of his mother, he not being born in wedlock. She was the daughter of a small shopkeeper in the village. Thistlewood, his father, was a farmer, and Burnett was brought up with the rest of Thistlewood’s family. Possibly his peculiar position may have soured his temper. The following extracts taken from a recent publication give contemporary information as to the details of this dangerous and daringly-conceived plot. {160} The Earl of Hardwick, writing to Lady Elizabeth Stuart, then in Paris, Feb. 24, 1820, states that he had, in London, just received information of a plot to assassinate ministers as they came from dinner at Lord Harrowby’s. (The Duke of Berry had been assassinated in Paris, at the door of the Opera House, on Feb. 13th, 1820, only eleven days before.) Thirty men, his lordship says, were found in a hay-loft, all armed. Notice had been privately given to the police of the plot, and the dinner had been consequently postponed. These men had probably met to consider the cause of this postponement. Nine of the party were taken, the rest escaping by a rope ladder. Lord Hardwick, writing again at 4 p.m. the same day, says, “I have just seen the leaders of the horrible plot . . . Thistlewood was taken to the Treasury, where he was about to be examined. Townshend the police officer asked if I would like to see him . . . he was sitting over the fire without his hat; it was easy to distinguish him from the rest, by the character of ferocity which marked his countenance, which had a singularly bad expression . . . Sir Charles Flint took me to another room, where there were several of the arms taken; 7 pistols and bayonets, 4 daggers, or pike heads, two feet in length; and some muskets. A sergeant of the guard was wounded in the arm by a ball which had passed through his hand; he also received three balls in the crown of his hat.” Thistlewood was taken in White Cross Street, near Finsbury Square, in his bed. The place where the conspirators were discovered by the police was the loft of a stable at the “Horse and Groom” public-house, in John Street, Portman Square, which is between the square and Edgware Road. They were to have forced themselves into the house, at Lord Harrowby’s, while dinner was going on, which they could easily have done by knocking at the door and then overpowering the footmen; or, according to another version, to have assassinated the ministers as they came away in a body.

The Countess of Caledon, writing, about the same date, to Lady Elizabeth Stuart, says, “Since the Gunpowder Plot there has been nothing so terrible. Sir Willm. Scott says there was a plan to set London on fire in twelve places. They only waited for the signal that the assassination had taken place at Lord Harrowby’s. Seven thousand persons were ready that night to act on the signal. We should never have escaped a Revolution.”

Truly the Horsington lunatic’s collar might well have been employed in curtailing the movements of this seditious native; but the public safety was more effectually secured by hanging him on May 1st in the same year, 1820. {161a}

The church bell bears the date 1754, with founder’s name, “Dan Hedderly.” I may add that one of the bells in St. Mary’s Church, Horncastle, has the inscription “Supplicem Deus audit. Daniel Hedderly cast me, 1727.” In the present churchyard at Horsington grows the St. Mary’s thistle referred to in a previous chapter, among the Flora. I find a note with reference to the same plant growing in a field near Somerford Grange, the farm of the monks of Christchurch. “It is supposed to have been brought from the Holy Land, and only found near Religious Houses.” {161b} The writer happens to know that, in this case, the plant was imported some 20 years ago from Kirkstead, where it is now extinct. Had it a tongue to speak with, it would appeal to the pity of the visitor in the words “Noli me tangere.”

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BUCKNALL lies barely two miles from Horsington, to the west. The name (Buckehale in Domesday Book, or Buckenhall) would seem to indicate a former hall, or mansion, surrounded by beech trees; {161c} and in a field, still called “Hallyards,” to the south of the village, there are traces of such a residence, near the farm now occupied by Mr. W. Carter. This was probably the home of the Saxon Thorold, Sheriff of Lincoln, and lord of the demesne, before the Conquest. His daughter, the Lady Godiva (or God’s gift), of Coventry fame, and probably born here, married Leofric, the powerful Earl of Mercia. She was a great benefactress to the Church. Thorold gave to the monastery of St. Guthlac at Croyland, “for the salvation of his soul,” land in Bucknall, comprising “1 carucate, {162} with 5 villiens, 2 bordars, and 8 soc-men, with another carucate; meadow 120 acres, and wood 50 acres.” The two principal features in the village are now the rectory house and the church. The former, a substantial old gabled building, standing in a large old-fashioned garden, probably dates back some 300 years. By a curious arrangement, in some of the rooms the fireplace stands in the corner, instead of in the centre of the room wall. The church, dedicated, like so many others in the neighbourhood, to St. Margaret, has no very striking features. Its architecture is mainly Early English, with some traces of Norman; embattled tower, with four pinnacles, and conical roof. It has been renovated and improved at various periods. In 1704 it was re-roofed and considerably altered. It was thoroughly restored in 1882, at a cost of about £1,500, the older features being judiciously retained. The late rector, Rev. E. W. Lutt, introduced a new Communion table, chancel rails, and lamps. In 1899 a handsome carved eagle lectern was given by his parishioners and friends. Under the present rector, Rev. W. H. Benson-Brown, a beautifully-carved oak reredos, of chaste design, was erected, and dedicated Sept. 17, 1902. Two coloured windows were presented, and dedicated Dec. 23, 1903, the subject of one being St. Margaret, the patron saint of the church; that of the other, St. Hugh, patron saint of the diocese. The inscription on the former is “To the glory of God, and in loving memory of Jessie Syme Elsey, who entered into rest May 1st, 1903. This window was given by her sisters Louisa Pepper and Nancy Margaret Richardson.” The inscription of the other window is “To the glory of God, and in loving memory of Robert Brown, who entered rest Nov. 21st, 1897, also of Mary Jane Brown, who entered rest March 22nd, 1903. This window was given by their son, W. H. Benson-Brown, Rector.” Through the Rector’s efforts coloured glass is shortly also to be placed in the chancel east window. A processional cross was presented to the church as a thankoffering, by the Rector and Mrs. Brown, on the recovery of their son, Langton Benson-Brown, after a serious operation, Sept. 11th, 1899.

The churchyard was enlarged, and consecrated by the Bishop, May 22nd, 1900.

The general plan of the church is nave, with small north and south aisles, and chancel. At the east end of the south aisle, in the south wall, is a piscina; a slab of considerable size below it, indicating that this has been formerly a chantry, with altar at the east end, lit up by two small windows, one in the eastern wall, the other over the piscina. In the easternmost bay of the north arches, which now extends within the chancel, there is, at the base of the arch moulding, a nun’s head. This, however, is believed to be modern work, introduced at the restoration. The pulpit is of old oak, nicely carved, with peculiar Masonic-looking design, the money for its erection being left by Henry Taylor, Esq., of All Hallows, Barking, in 1646. The font is hexagonal, having a simple semi-circular moulding in the centre on four sides, the other sides being plain. There is a good old oak parish chest in the tower. The tower, externally, has two good original gurgoyles, the other two being modern.

The Communion plate was “the gift of Mrs. Hannah Ashley, 1786.” In the chancel is a pewter alms dish, with the name “Bucknall,” and the date, hardly legible, “1680.” The bell of the church is evidently ancient, and has several curious devices graven upon it, including a Tudor Rose, beneath which are four crosses, alternating with four capital S’s; besides these, there is a long cross, with upper end branching into a trefoil, its lower end forming a fork, resting on a circle, on each side being a smaller stem, slightly foliating at top.

On the east side of the south doorway is an old stone having a sundial graven on it; now built into masonry which must have come from some other part of the fabric. Opposite the porch, in the churchyard, slightly raised above the path, is a large, flat square stone, nearly a yard broad, and with some moulding below. This is called “the tithe stone.” It may have been the base of a churchyard cross; but, as in olden times the cross often served as a place of barter and business, it may well also have received the tithes and other dues belonging to the rector. (See “Old Stone Crosses,” by Elias Owen, 1886.) I may add that there was a similar stone in the churchyard in the neighbouring parish of Waddingworth.

A list of non-jurors connected with this parish in 1715 has the following names:—“Susanna Smith, widow, £10 0s. 0d.; William Smith, gent, £30 0s. 0d.; Samuel Martin, gent., £36 0s. 0d.” (It may be remembered that non-jurors were subject to double taxation, although they erred in such company as the saintly Bishop Ken and other prelates.)

It may be further mentioned that in the reign of Charles I. an inhabitant of this parish, Mr. Thomas Toking (who was also of Ludgate Hill, London), presented a petition to the King’s Commissioners, showing that he held under the Bishop of Carlisle a lease of the manor of Horncastle, which had been sequestered through the default of his predecessor, Rutland Snowden, and praying for a commission of enquiry.—State Papers, Domestic. Chas. I. Vol. 345, No. 42.

The Rector has supplied me with a list of the Rectors of Bucknall, complete, with the exception of the period between 1608 and 1660. As there are but few parishes of which such a record is obtainable, I give this below, as interesting. We notice among them two members of the formerly well-known family of Dighton; also another known name in Robert Clifton. Evan Yorke Nepean, Rector 1859–1868, afterwards succeeded his uncle in the baronetcy, while the second Rector, who held office from 1227 to 1244 being named Eusebius, was probably a foreigner, and, possibly, as was common in those times, though enjoying the income, never resided in the parish, leaving his duties to be performed by a scantily-paid substitute.

RECTORS OF BUCKNALL FROM A.D. 1219.

Richard (clerk) 1219

Eusebius 1227

Bartholomew de Bukenhal 1244

Henry ----

William Gascelyn 1294

William de Rasen 1297

Thomas de Swayneshaye 1298

Walter de Maydenstone 1299

Robert de Wythme 1306

John Denery 1307

Richard Mahen ----

John Mahen de Chipping Norton 1318

Richard de Norton ----

Ralph de Saleby 1330

Roger Sutton ----

Richard Starkie 1399

Richard de Crumwell 1406

Thomas de Grenley 1410

John Glaster 1421

John Endrik ----

John Arthur 1470

John Archer ----

Robert Clifton 1503

John Galyn ----

John Sheffield 1520

John Robynson 1530

John Thorpe 1546

Robert Grawd 1549

Arthur Wright 1566

Edward Wright 1607

No record from 1608 to 1660

Everard Dighton 1661

William Dighton 1677

Benjam. Brown 1702

Edmd. Whitehead 1706

Wm. White 1738

Thomas Willis 1783

Richard Vevers 1791

John Myddelton 1804

John Fendal 1834

Evan Yorke Nepean 1859

Annesley Paul Hughes 1868

Edward Kefford Lutt 1886

William Henry Benson-Brown 1898

Tupholme Abbey ruins, about two miles from Bucknall, stand on the left side of the road leading westward from that place to Bardney. These require a short notice. This was a Præmonstratensian House, dedicated to the Blessed Virgin, and founded by Robert, or, as some say, Ranulph, Nova Villa, or Nevill, who held lands _in capite_ of the King, from the Conquest, the foundation being further augmented by Alan de Nevill and Gilbert his brother, temp. Henry II. Tanner states that at the time of its dissolution by Henry VIII. there were “nine religious” in the House, and the contemporary Leland, in his “Collectanea,” names two works which he saw in the Tupholme Library, viz., Fulcherii Historia and Historiolæ de Britannia fragmentum. {165} The properties of the Abbey were very considerable, lying in the parishes of Tupholme, Gautby, Langton, Franthorpe (where there was a Grange farm), Stixwould, Metheringham, Lincoln, Boston, Middle Rasen, Ranby, West Ashby, Brokelesby, Stourton, Great Coates, Louth, with the advowson of Stratton Church, and other places. These ample possessions seem to have bred in the Priors a spirit of independence, and even of lawlessness; for, at an Inquisition, held at Lincoln in the 13th century, it was stated that the Prior of the day had refused to pay his Crown quit rents, and indulged in other illegal proceedings, besides claiming “free warren” over these different manors, which of right belonged to the King. Another Prior was accused of forgery and counterfeiting the coin of the realm, {166a} with which he purchased corn and wine and disposed of them again at a profit. He was also charged with carrying on an extensive traffic in horn, {166b} and it is not a little curious, in connection with this last charge, that a Mr. Pell, whom the writer, as a boy, knew well, residing at Tupholme Hall, found, while his men were digging in the Abbey field, great quantities of the pith, or core, of bullocks’ horns, all of which had been divested of the outer coating. Henry II. granted to the Prior, by Charter, a canal to the Witham; the course of similar canals can be traced at Stixwould Priory and Kirkstead Abbey, and thus articles of illegal traffic could be smuggled down the Witham to foreign lands. At the dissolution the site of the Abbey was given to Sir Thomas Heneage.

The remains of the Abbey are now small, forming one end, running north and south, of some farm buildings, with a small modern house attached, which helps to keep them standing; for, otherwise, they are so worn away at the lower part, by the cattle rubbing against them, that they would be in danger of falling; and of late years such a contingency has been evidently thought not unlikely, as a railing is now put up outside to keep the cattle out of danger. There are southward five upper Early English windows in the remaining fragment, probably the wall of the Refectory; and two more ornamental windows of a small chamber, northward, with a small narrow round-headed window, deeply let in, at the end; with eight round arched recesses below, one of these being perforated, and forming an entrance to the refectory from the outside. Fragments of carved stones are also inserted in a modern wall at the north end. A local tradition survives, that the place is haunted by a headless lady; and an instance is related by a labourer formerly living close by, who, when beating his wife, was so terrified by an apparition, which in his ignorance he took to be “the Old Lad,” _i.e._, the Devil, that he henceforth became a reformed character, and never belaboured his wife again.

There is a short cut over the fields from Stixwould to Tupholme Priory, available for the pedestrian, but transit for the carriage is doubtful, as the cart track is a private accommodation road, though possibly the proverbial “silver key” may open the locks. On the opposite side of the ruins is Tupholme Hall, a large substantial brick building, with some fine timber about it. The age of this house I do not know, but some spouting bears date 1789. Tupholme can be reached by train to Southrey station, with a walk of about a mile and a half, or from Bardney about two miles.

* * * * *

We now pass over two miles in thought, and reach Bardney. Here we have the largest church (St. Lawrence) in this neighbourhood; and though for a long time it was left in a wretched condition, it was restored in 1878 at a cost of £2,500, and is now in a very good condition. Its chief features of interest are as follows:—In the south wall of the chancel there is a piscina; in the pavement north of the Communion table is a flat slab of Purbeck marble, with a cross and the initials C.S., with date 1715. The present Communion table is formed of a massive slab of Lincoln limestone, 9 feet long, 4 feet in width, and 6 inches in thickness. Inscribed on this are seven crosses, three at each end and one in the front centre; they have evidently been scratched with a rude instrument and are doubtless of early date. The number of these crosses, seven, would imply that it was dedicated to some sacred purpose. The stone was found under the floor of the nave, while operations were going on for the restoration. It is supposed to have been brought from the Abbey (of which we shall speak presently), and to have been the tombstone of King Oswald of Northumbria, who, as the Venerable Bede states (Book iii.. c. vi.), was buried in the Abbey under the High Altar; although it is known that with the exception of one hand (which is said to have acquired miraculous powers) his remains were afterwards removed to Gloucester. The chancel is built of bricks, which resemble those of Tattershall and Halstead Hall, and commonly called “Flemish;” but it is likely that, as in the case of the two other buildings just named, they were made in the neighbourhood, where there have been very extensive brick and tile kilns, of so old a date as to have given its name to a small stream, which is called “Tile-house Beck.” The chancel has angels between the main beams of the roof. In the chancel arch south wall, on the eastern side, are initials scratched, with dates 1443 and 1668. The nave has north and south aisles with five bays, and Early English arches and columns, the plinths of these columns being unusually high—over three feet, and those on the south being slightly higher than those on the north. The aisle windows are debased. The timber beams in the roof are of strong good oak; plain, except a central floriated device; the general boarding being of pine. The east window has five lights, with fourteen divisions above, within the low arch. The register dates from 1653. The Communion plate is good, its date 1569. The tower is massive, broad, and low, with here and there a relic of Norman zigzag work built into the walls. There are four bells, large, and of good tone, the weight of the largest being just short of one ton. Their inscriptions are as follows:—

(_a_) Soli Deo gloria (Churchwardens) T. T. & W. K. 1644.

(_b_) W. S. (with Fleur de lys) Deus . . . 1670.

(_c_) Sanctus Dominus . . . 1663.

(_d_) Jhesus be our spede. E. E. R.R. a Rose. 1615.

The Abbey of Bardney, of which now nothing remains _in situ_ except a sepulchral barrow, dates from the Saxon Heptarchy, being one of the oldest in the kingdom. It was first built, says Dugdale {168a} by King Ethelred, who himself, in 705, quitted his throne of Mercia, and, retiring to Bardney, became its Abbot for the last 13 years of his life. The name of the actual founder, however, is lost in obscurity. Leland says {168b} that the monks themselves did not know it. The barrow referred to is called, to this day, the “coney-garth” or “King’s enclosure,” and Ethelred is supposed to have been buried there. The Abbey was destroyed in 870, by the Danes, under their leaders Inguar and Hubba, and 300 monks slaughtered before the altar. It was re-built 200 years later, and re-endowed, by Gilbert de Gaunt, the powerful Norman baron whose bounteous acts we have referred to more than once; and his son, Walter de Gaunt, in 1115, confirmed “to the church and monastery of St. Peter, St. Paul and St. Oswald, all those lands and possessions which his father had given in pure and perpetual alms to the same.” And all this was afterwards confirmed by Henry I. {169a} It was a very wealthy establishment of the Benedictine order. The superior was one of the twenty-five mitred Abbots in England; he was called the “Lord of Lindsey,” had a seat in the House of Lords, and a palace in London. At the time when the body of Oswald, King of Northumbria, was buried here, there were 300 monks in the Abbey, says Dugdale. I have mentioned that when the body of King Oswald was afterwards transferred to Gloucester, a hand was retained, which acquired miraculous powers; the versions as regards this vary, but there is a legend that Aidan, Bishop of Lindisfarne was dining with Oswald, there being a silver dish on the royal table, well replenished, when the king’s almoner announced “that there was a crowd of mendicants begging at the gate. The king immediately ordered the whole of the meat, and the dish itself, to be divided among them. This generosity so struck the bishop that he grasped the king’s right hand, exclaiming that “it was impossible that a hand so munificent should ever perish,” and the monks assert that it never did. After his death it was deposited as a holy relic in St. Peter’s Church at Bebba, now called Bamborough. Thence it was purloined by a monk of Peterborough (says William of Malmsbury) and deposited in the Abbey there, where it is said, by Nicholas Harpsfield, to have remained in a perfect state till after the Reformation. {169b}

In the Record “Testa de Nevill” (p. 338) it is stated that, besides the lands given to the Abbey by Gilbert de Gaunt, in Bardenay, Surraye (Southrey), An-Goteby (Gautby), and elsewhere, Roger de Marmion (ancestor of the Dymokes of Scrivelsby) also endowed it with certain lands. The Abbots held the advowsons of, or pensions from, the churches of Bardney, Barton-on-Humber, Sotby, Falkingham, Wlacot, Skendleby, Partney, Frisby, Lusby, Baumber, Edlington, and half a dozen more.

Of Bardney I have only one more particular to mention, a modern miracle:—In the year 1898, in the hamlet of Southrey, an outlying part of the parish, a church was built, where there had been none before, to accommodate 90 people; the builders, as in the historic case of St. Hugh of Avalon, carrying his hod at the erection of his own cathedral, were the clergy, assisted by the parishioners generally, all carting being done by the farmers; and the greatest zeal and interest being shewn by all parties. It is a wooden structure, on a concrete foundation. The font was brought from the vicarage, probably being of the 15th century.

As I stand on this barrow, “coney-garth,” with the remains mouldering beneath me, blending with their kindred earth, of the saintly Ethelred, who in his singular devotion exchanged the crown of a king for the mitre of an abbot, I command a view, probably unrivalled in the world. In the near distance north-east are the buildings which occupy the site of the vaccary of Bardney Abbey, still called Bardney Dairies, and said to have been the original position of the abbey itself, before its destruction by the Danes. North-westward, beyond the woods, between two and three miles away, are the crumbling remains of Barlings Abbey, whose last abbot, Macharell (under the name of Captain Cobbler), headed the Lincolnshire Rebellion, in the reign of Henry VIII., and for his offence was executed, along with the contemporary Abbot of Kirkstead. In the next village but one to the west formerly stood the Priory of Minting, of which only mounds and ponds survive. To the north of this was the Priory of Benedictine Nuns at Stainfield; while a few short miles again beyond this to the east was Bullington Priory; and crowning the north-western horizon stands the majestic Cathedral of Lincoln, around which clustered in its immediate proximity fourteen monasteries; truly a region once rich beyond compare in monastic institutions; the homes of devotion, if also, unhappily, of error and superstition; but the almost sole sources in their day “of light and leading”; but for whom we should now know but little or nothing of the distant past, since it was the monks who made and preserved for us our historic records, {171} they who multiplied our old MSS., they who were our great agriculturists, and they above all who handed down to us the Word of Life. Not far off to the east is a wood, commonly called “Horsetaker wood,” but the term is really “Auster-acre,” the eastern-acre or field (Latin, Australis ager); as at Bawtry there is land called by the similar name, “Auster-field,” and we have most of us heard of the battle of Austerlitz, when Napoleon conquered the forces of Austria and Russia, in 1805. To the north lies another wood, known as “Hardy-gang” wood, a name derived from the following local tradition:—Once upon a time a wild man lived in the fastnesses of this wood (the woods about here were, within the writer’s recollection, much more extensive than they now are); he wore no clothing; was covered with hair; and was the terror of the neighbourhood, raiding the sheep and cattle, and carrying off occasionally a child. At length his maraudings became so excessive that a number of men banded together, binding themselves not to rest until they had rid the country of this monster in human form. They had a hard task to perform, but at length they did it, and their name of “the hardy gang” was passed on to the wood itself.

Continuing our ramble, a walk of some five miles eastward, partly through fields, by a wide and evidently ancient footpath, trod, doubtless, by many a monk of old, and skirting the above-named Auster-acre wood, we arrive at the small and scattered village of Gautby, the property of the Vyners. We are here in a region of fine and stately timber, a suitable position for a large, and handsome residence; but the hall was demolished several years ago, and only the gardens remain, enclosed by a high wall. In such a place, and under such patronage, we should expect to find the church a handsome fabric, but, on the contrary, the visitor will be surprised to see a mean, brick, small structure, with no pretensions whatever to architectural beauty. The old square pews are still retained, with some open sittings, all of oak, but without ornament; pulpit and reading-desk, in keeping with these; the font is of wood with marble basin, small, and of no beauty. A small wooden gallery, for singers, over the west door, reminds one of the days when our country choirs were accompanied by hautboy, clarionet and fiddle, and almost the only hymns were “Tate and Brady.” The chancel is almost entirely paved with tombstones of the Vyners. One of these records the murder of F. G. Vyner, Esq., by brigands in Greece, in the year 1870. On the north and south sides of the Communion table are raised monuments, on which are semi-recumbent figures in stone. The inscription on the northern sepulchre runs as follows:—“At the instance of Thomas Vyner, Esqvire, Clerke of the Patents, piously desiring to preserve the memorie of his dear Father, Sr Thomas Vyner deceased, His Executor Sr Robert Vyner, Knight and Baronet, caused this monument to be set up Anno. Dom. 1672.” The south inscription is, “To the memorie of Thomas Vyner Esqr, second sonne of Sr Thomas Vyner, Knt. & Baronet, by Dame Honour, daughter of George Humble Esqr, of this Parish, His second wife, this monument was erected, at the charge of Sr Robert Vyner, Knt and Baronet, sole executor of his last will and Testament. Ano. Dni. 1673.”

The founder of the family of Vyner was Sir Robert, a wealthy London merchant, who, like his father before him, lent money to ruined Royalists, doubtless at a rate of interest which well repaid him. He was _fond of his sovereign_, in more senses than one, as is shewn by the following anecdote given in the “Spectator,” No. 462:—When Sir Robert Vyner was Lord Mayor, in 1675, he entertained Charles II. in the Guild-hall; and this he did with so profuse hospitality, and withal repeatedly toasting the royal family, that he soon began to treat his sovereign with a familiarity unduly loving. The king understood very well how to extricate himself from such a difficulty, and with a hint to the company to avoid ceremony, he stole away and made for his coach, standing in the Guild-hall yard. But Sir Robert liked his Majesty’s company so well that he pursued him, and catching the king by the hand, he cried out, with a round oath, “Sire, you shall stay and take t’ other bottle.” Charles, recognising the inevitable, put a good face on the matter, and, looking at him kindly, with a graceful air repeated this line of the old song,

“He that’s drunk is as great as a king.”

He immediately returned and complied with the invitation. {173}

In the park at Gautby there stood for many years an equestrian statue, of which the history is somewhat ludicrous. It passed for a statue of Charles II. Sir Robert Vyner, the hero of the above anecdote, presented it to the City of London, in 1675; and it was placed in the Stocks Market, in honour of his Majesty. The royal horseman bestrides a warlike steed, which is trampling under foot the figure of a turbanned Turk. This seems hardly an appropriate mode of representing a sovereign, who, so far from thirsting for deeds of war, could drink wine and play cards when the Dutch were burning our shipping in the Thames close by. The Stocks Market was eventually demolished, when the statue was transferred to Gautby Park, the Lincolnshire seat of the donor, whence it has in late years been transferred to the Yorkshire seat of the Vyners—Newby Park, near Ripon. It had been originally intended to represent John Sobieski, King of Poland, who was regarded as the saviour of Europe from the Mussulman power; and for him, the Turk trampled under foot was a fitting emblem. When the statue was taken down in 1738, the following satiric lines were circulated and sung in the streets:—

“The last dying speech and confession of the Horse at Stock’s Market.

Ye whimsical people of London’s fair town
Who one day put up, what the next day pull down;
Full sixty-one years, have I stood in this place,
And never, till now, met with any disgrace!
What affront to crowned heads could you offer more bare,
Than to pull down a king to make room for a mayor?
The great Sobieski, on horse with long tail,
I first represented, when set up for sale;
A Turk, as you see, was placed under my feet,
To prove o’er the Sultan my conquest compleat.
Next, when against monarchy all were combined,
I, for your Protector, old Noll, was designed.
When the King was restored, you then, in a trice,
Called me Charly the Second; and, by way of device,
Said the old whiskered Turk had Oliver’s face,
Though you know to be conquered he ne’er had the disgrace.
Three such persons as these on one horse to ride,
A Hero, Usurper, and King, all astride:—
Such honours were mine; though now forced to retire,
Perhaps my next change may be still something higher,
From a fruitwoman’s market, I may leap to a spire.
As the market is moved, I am forced to retreat;
I could stay there no longer, with nothing to eat.
Now the herbs and the greens are all carried away,
I must go unto those who will find me in hay.”

So the old horse, after serving varied purposes, and more than one “flitting,” finds literally “a green old age” in his “retreat” in the great horse county; a standing memorial, in stone, of a Lord Mayor’s “zeal” _not_ “tempered with knowledge.” But his memory is not allowed to perish, for in the neighbouring training stables a favourite name among the fleet racers is Sobieski.

A pleasant walk of less than a mile over meadows, or “Ings,” brings us to the village of Minting, the last syllable of its name, possibly, being derived from the said “Ings.” Here, as has been already mentioned, formerly existed a Priory of Benedictine monks, a “cell” or offshoot of the Gallic monastery of St. Benedict super Loira, and founded in 1129 by Ranulph de Meschines, Earl of Chester. No buildings remain above-ground, but they must have been very extensive, as mound and hollow and stew pond cover an area of four or five acres. The benefice is in the gift of St. John’s College, Cambridge. The church, previously a very poor structure, was restored by the Vicar, the Rev. F. Bashforth, in 1863, at a cost of over £800, the late Mr. Ewan Christian being the architect. The font is modern, but handsome, in form hexagonal. There is a north aisle with three bays and Norman arches. Three windows in the north wall and two in the south are debased. The east window is a good sample of the Perpendicular, and on the outside has figureheads of king and queen, as terminals of the moulding. A curious slab, carved on both sides, formerly lay loose in the porch, having been part of a churchyard cross. At the restoration it was cut into two sections, and these were placed on the east wall of the nave, north and south of the chancel arch, thus shewing the two carved surfaces. The device on the northern one is a rude representation of the Crucifixion; the Saviour’s legs are crossed, and a figure stands on either side, probably St. John and the Virgin. Below is a rudely-cut foliated pattern. The design of the slab on the south, formerly the back, is also rude foliation. On the north wall of the chancel there is an oval brass tablet to the memory of Gulielmus Chapman, of which one is tempted to say that, unless the individual commemorated was an almost more than human embodiment of all the virtues, the author of the epitaph must have acted on the principle recommended by the poet Matthew Prior,—

Be to his virtues very kind,
And to his faults a little blind.

It runs as follows:—“Gulielmus Chapman, Probus, Doctus, Lepidus, Facundus, Hic jacet. Pietate, Fidelitate, Benignitate, Modestiâ, Nulli Secundus, Hanc Vicariam bis 20 et octo annos tenuit. Clarus in Umbra, Rarâ in senectute Emicuit, Die 14 Aprilis decessit, Anno Ætat. 82, Anno Dom. 1722.”

The villagers of this parish, 100 years ago, are said to have exercised the art of weaving on a considerable scale, and one of the writer’s parishioners states that his grandmother lived there and had a hand-loom.

* * * * *

A walk of less than two miles, chiefly across the fields, brings us to Wispington. We have already mentioned {175} the presence here of moats, mounds, and portions of a former old mansion of the Phillips family, utilized in existing farm buildings. We have only now to notice the church, which does not call for much remark. It was rebuilt on the site, and partly of the materials, of the previously-existing church, in 1863, at a cost of £1,500, by the Rev. C. P. Terrott, late vicar, and one of our greatest local antiquaries. He himself designed the font and stone pulpit, and also executed the devices which adorned them, representing groups of different animals named in the Bible. The tower is supported on buttresses, on a principle adopted from the church of Old Woodhall, which is peculiar, but simple and effective. In the vestry there is a slab, in the floor, of a former rector, John Hetherset, holding a chalice with hands in many-buttoned gloves. Built into the vestry wall are the capitals of two small Norman pillars, which were dug up near the church, and doubtless formed part of the older Norman building. Propped up against the vestry wall is a Jacobean altar-stone, formerly on the Communion table, one of the very few in England. The two mediæval bells are dedicated to the Virgin Mary. The east window has modern coloured glass, the subject being the crucifixion, and scenes in the life of our Saviour. In the north wall of the nave is a window of coloured glass, commorative of the late vicar, C. P. Terrot; and in the south wall of the chancel is another, commemorating his son, Capt. Charles Terrott; in the south nave wall, near the font, is a brass tablet, with the Tyrwhitt arms, erected by the late Rev. Beauchamp St. John Tyrwhitt, vicar, in memory of his brother Robert. The west window is of coloured glass, the subject being St. Margaret and St. John the Baptist.

Edlington Church (St. Helen’s)—the village being a very scattered one, with scarcely two houses contiguous—stands to the east, some two miles from Wispington. It was rebuilt, except the lower part of the tower, in 1859–60. The pulpit, reading desk, lectern, and sittings are all of oak, modern and plain, but substantial. There are three bells. Edlington park is nicely wooded with some good timber, though much of it has been felled of late years. There was formerly a good residence on the northern rising ground, but it was pulled down “in the forties” by the then owner, J. Hassard Short, Esq., and only the kitchen gardens and fish ponds remain. In a field near at hand there were found, several years ago, a number of heaps of oxbones, each heap also containing an ancient urn, supposed to have been connected with Roman sacrifices; but, as Dr. Oliver {176} derives the name Edlington from Eiddileg, a mystic character in the Bardic mythology, these may be the remnants of some other heathen superstition.

A walk across the park and over a couple of fields southward brings us to the village of Thimbleby, which consists of a “street” of small cottages and two or three larger dwelling-houses. There is here an old manor, called “Hall-garth,” with an interesting old house with gables, thatched roof, some panelled rooms, a large fish pond, an old-time garden with yew hedges fantastically trimmed, and a fine old tree or two. In a field called “the Park,” at the east end of the parish, are some fine trees, remnants of a former avenue. The ancient well, said to be Roman, in the rectory grounds, has already been mentioned. The church was re-fashioned in 1879, and an old, nondescript, flat-ceiled structure was converted into a substantial and well-designed edifice of Early Decorated style, with clock-tower and good clock, which gives out its notes of time to the neighbourhood.

We are now within a mile of Horncastle; somewhat weary after our long explorations, let us wend our way on to the old town, and seek rest and refreshment at the well-appointed and almost historic hostel which is ready to welcome us beneath “ye Signe of ye Bull.”