Chapter III: Part I: THE ANTIQUITIES &c (2)

Among the Barons, who proved their fidelity to the King’s declining cause, the Constable of Bridgnorth, Hamo de Strange, was pre-eminent. He held the Castle in spite of de Montfort’s imperious summons to surrender; and though repeatedly commanded by the usurper in the King’s name to yield, and to leave the kingdom, he bade defiance to the mandate, and bravely maintained his post, till the great victory at Evesham over the rebels restored the monarchy.—[_Antiquities of Shropshire, Vol. 1, p. 285._] In this famous battle Prince Edward, who had a short time before escaped from the hands of de Montfort, led the army of the Royalists, and by his consummate military skill, as well as by his signal valour, completely routed the rebels. De Montfort, their leader, observing the skilful disposition of the Prince’s forces, is reported to have exclaimed, in utter despair of the fortunes of the day, “The Lord have mercy on our souls, for I see our bodies are the Prince’s.” These gloomy forebodings were fully verified. In the fierce encounter, which ensued, De Montfort was slain with his eldest son, and about a hundred and sixty knights, and many other gentlemen of his party, and his army put completely to the rout, so that the Prince was left undisputed master of the field. It was not long after this memorable action, that the people of Bridgnorth, and their loyal constable, had the high honor of receiving into their town the King, the Queen, the gallant Prince, and other members of the royal household. It appears from some ancient documents, that great preparations were made for their reception on this occasion; and that the grand victory of Evesham, which brought about the restoration of the Monarchy, and the overthrow of a tyrannical usurpation, was celebrated within our Castle walls with festive rejoicings.—[_p. 258._] It also appears that the loyalty of the Burgesses during the season of the adverse fortunes of the King, and the losses which they had incurred in consequence, did not pass unnoticed. The King liberally rewarded them. The official papers which attest this, allege as the reason for the royal bounty “the losses which they [the Burgesses of Bridgnorth] had sustained in the time when the kingdom was disturbed, and because they faithfully adhered to the King, and to Edward, his son, in the time aforesaid.”—[_p. 309._]

The wise and energetic measures, which Edward adopted, when he succeeded to the throne, put an end to the civil dissensions by which the kingdom had been so long distracted; and this circumstance, as well as his having finally annexed the Principality of Wales to the British crown, prevented the necessity of his making those military expeditions into the border counties, which had been so customary in the reigns of his predecessors. But Edward II. proved as feeble as his father had been vigorous in his government of the kingdom, and the consequence was, that in a short time after his accession the realm was disturbed by a renewal of intestine feuds, and rebellion soon raged from one end of the kingdom to the other. A second confederacy of the Barons against the king, which was formed for the purpose of enforcing on him the banishment of his favorites, the Despencers, took place in the year 1321, and this brought about another siege of Bridgnorth Castle.

The circumstances which led to it were these:—The Earl of Baddlesmere, who owed all his honors, and the largest part of his ample estates to the bounty of the king, joined the factious Barons in their rebellion, and, adding insolence to ingratitude, proceeded so far as to countenance a great affront offered to the queen. She having occasion to pass his Castle of Leeds, in Kent, desired a night’s lodgings within its walls, and was refused admittance, and some of her attendants were wantonly killed before the gate. Edward shewed more promptitude and energy in revenging this wrong, than in any other action of his reign. He marched immediately with some forces to Leeds Castle, which he took, and executed the governor, and having secured Baddlesmere’s treasures, pursued him to his estates in Wiltshire, and from thence, after a while, to his estates near Shiffnal. The confederate Barons, taking alarm at the victorious progress of the King, assembled their forces to besiege Bridgnorth. They burnt part of the town and took the Castle, in the hope, that being masters of this important post, they would be able to check the further advance of the royal army. But they did not long keep possession of it. The King came here in person at the head of his army, and after a brief siege retook the fortress from the rebels, and from thence marched in triumph to Shrewsbury, where the Burgesses, to grace the triumph of their sovereign, came forth to meet him, clad in armour, and where the chiefs of the insurgent Barons, the two Mortimers, were obliged, as humble supplicants at his feet, to sue for mercy.

Five years after the date of this triumph the King was here again, but under very different circumstances. The aspect of his fortunes had become completely clouded, and the hopes, that had flushed his breast as he crossed the Severn in pursuit of his discomfited enemies, were exchanged for bitter disappointment and anxious forebodings; and he entered our Castle on this occasion, not as a victorious general, or an acknowledged king, but as a fugitive and an outlaw, on whose devoted head a price was set. His faithless Queen, who added political treason to private criminality, had joined in a conspiracy with Mortimer and other disaffected Barons, and had summoned a parliament for the purpose of deposing her husband. The act of deposition was easily passed. The king was virtually dethroned, and feeling, as well he might, that his life was in jeopardy, he anxiously looked out for some place of refuge, where he might remain in safety till his friends brought him succour; and judging from its position and its strong natural defences, that Bridgnorth Castle would afford him a secure retreat, he took refuge in it. This circumstance is recorded by an ancient historian,[18] who mentions that in this dangerous crisis of his affairs, when he had reason to dread personal violence from his enemies, the unhappy monarch resolved to betake himself to some well fortified place, where he might be safe till his friends should send him succour; and that he chose Bridgnorth as admirably adapted to the purpose. Therefore, after nightfall, he left his place of concealment, wherever that may have been, and entered into a small boat with a few of his attendants, and having crossed the Severn took refuge in our Castle. How long our loyal fortress shielded him from the conspirators is not known; but, after a time, they discovered his retreat, and dragged him from it—took him prisoner first to Kenilworth, thence to Berkley Castle, in Gloucestershire. The sequel is well known to every reader of English history. After suffering from those, in whose custody he was placed, every kind of indignity and insult which their malice could heap on him, he died under the hands of merciless assassins, whom they hired to despatch him, a death of extreme torture.

[18] Cum ad extremum omnia timeret, nec quicquam tam calamitosum putaret quod non in suam fortunam cadere posse videretur, statuit in locum aliquem munitum se abdere, ibidemque expectare, dum amici opera et armis juvarent: itaque noctu cum paucis suorum per Sabrinam noviculo vectus ad oppidum Brygnorthum in arcem, quæ ibidem egregie posita est, clam recepit. _Polydore Virgil._ _Lib._ XVIII, _p. 357_.

Such was the catastrophe which closed the reign of Edward II.—a reign so signalized by troubles, and so saddened by the personal sorrows of the sovereign, as well as by public calamities, that the affecting words, which Shakspeare has put into the mouth of one who after a short time was the successor both of his honors and of his misfortunes, might well have been adopted by Edward as his own:—

“In Winter’s tedious nights sit by the fire
With good old folks, and let them tell thee tales
Of woeful ages long ago betid;
And ere thou bid good night to quit their grief,
Tell thou the lamentable fall of me,
And send the hearers weeping to their beds.”
_Richard II._, _Act_ V., _Scene 1_.

It must add to the interest with which we regard the remaining ruin of our Castle, to reflect that when its walls and battlements were still standing, it afforded shelter to the unhappy Edward in his hour of need; and that Bridgnorth was the last place in his realm, where he received the homage due to royalty, even in ruins.

ANCIENT ECCLESIASTICAL ESTABLISHMENTS.

It is now time to turn the attention of the reader to the Churches, and other ecclesiastical establishments, which existed in former times in the Borough of Bridgnorth. They were of great antiquity. The most ancient of them was

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[19] The above sketch of the old Church of Saint Mary Magdalene is taken from a print in the Taylor’s Buildings, Oxford.

This Church originally stood within the walls of the Castle, and was a Collegiate Church, the members of which were five Prebendaries and a Dean. “The which Deanery and Prebends,” to quote the words of John Brompton, “the King indeed conferreth of his own right and custom; although in nearly all other Collegiate Chapels the Deans, being installed by the Sheriff at the King’s collation, and inducted into corporal possession of the Deaneries, confer all Prebends in the same Chapels, and install, induct, and visit the Prebendaries. But in the aforesaid Chapel of Saint Mary Magdalene, the Dean confers no Prebend, nor visits Prebend or Prebendary; but each in the corps of his own Prebend, hath and exerciseth plenary jurisdiction, as well in things spiritual, as in things temporal;” so that it was in an especial sense a Royal Chapel; and the whole ecclesiastical district connected with it, and subject to its Prebendaries, bore the title, which it still retains, of _The Royal Peculiar and Exempt Jurisdiction of the Deanery of Bridgnorth_. It was first founded, as has been already noticed, at Quatford, and from thence transferred, with all its rights and privileges, and the chief part of its endowments, to Bridgnorth, in the latter part of the reign of William Rufus, or early in the reign of his successor; so that it is a very ancient foundation—nearly seven hundred and fifty years old.

The privileges connected with it were considered very important, and were guarded with the strictest jealousy from all encroachments, not only by the members of the chapter, but by the Crown. So much was this the case, that in the year 1241, when some delegates of the Pope attempted to levy contributions in the Deanery of Bridgnorth, as well as elsewhere, for the See of Rome, they were opposed, as interfering with the prerogatives of the Royal Peculiar; and this opposition the Pope himself was obliged to sanction and ratify; for on the complaint of the King, he issued two Bulls at Lyons, in which he recognises the rights of the King’s free Chapel at Bridgnorth, and forbids all attempts made to levy procurations from it.

The Deanery of Bridgnorth at this time was held by Peter de Rivallis, of whom (although his course reflected no honor on his sacred calling) it may be well to take a passing notice, inasmuch as his name stands connected, not only with the early history of Bridgnorth, as being Dean of the Peculiar, but with some of the important events in the reign of Henry III. Peter de Rivallis was born at Poictou, and through the influence of his uncle, the Bishop of Winchester, was introduced into the English court, and was made Treasurer of the Chamber in the King’s Household. He soon became a great favorite with his master, who invested him, notwithstanding his clerical calling, with all the Royal Castles in Shropshire. The confidence placed in him was unbounded, and the favors heaped upon him almost without a parallel; for while he was Dean of Bridgnorth and Constable of the Castle, a grant was made to him of the Shrievalties of Shropshire and Staffordshire for life; also of the counties of York, Berks, Gloucester, Somerset, Dorset, Devon, Lancaster, Northumberland, Essex, Hants, Lincoln, Norfolk, Suffolk, and Kent. These, and such like favors, profusely heaped upon his foreign courtiers, tended to alienate the minds of his English subjects from the King, and were specially resisted by Richard Marshall, Earl of Pembroke. He and other English nobles entered into a confederacy with Llewelin, Prince of Wales, and laid waste the county of Salop to a considerable extent; and carrying their forage as far as the gates of Shrewsbury, pillaged and burnt part of the town. This illustrious nobleman who is called by ancient historians “the flower of chivalry,” and who was more than a match for his enemies in the field, was at last cut off by a base act of treachery, in which the Dean of Bridgnorth bore the chief part. He, with others, forged a letter, as if sanctioned by the King, and sent it to Ireland, announcing the forfeiture of the Earl’s Irish estates, and promising a partition of them amongst those who would arrest his person. This document however was not sufficient to satisfy the Irish nobles, and they dispatched messengers, requiring the King’s sealed charter on the subject. Peter de Rivallis forged the required document, and attached the great seal to it; and the plan completely succeeded. The Earl’s Irish possessions were invaded; in consequence of which he crossed the Channel in order to protect them, but in a skirmish, after having manfully maintained his ground against fearful odds, he fell mortally wounded; and died in the hands of his enemies, subjected in his last moments to every species of cruelty and insult.

For this murder of the noble Earl of Pembroke (for it was nothing less) the Dean of Bridgnorth was arraigned before the King and his Justiciaries. He appeared on this occasion strangely habited for an ecclesiastical dignitary; for he wore a corslet underneath his clerical garment, and had a dagger suspended from his girdle, and appeared half soldier, half priest. The King, assuming an appearance of anger which he did not feel, for he secretly rejoiced at the death of the Earl, accosted the Dean in very furious language, calling him a traitor, and accusing him of having entered into plots which had brought damage and disgrace on his kingdom. The Dean was sentenced to be committed to the Tower; and when he pleaded his clerical orders, as a reason why he should not be given up to the custody of a layman, the King answered, reasonably enough, that he had always demeaned himself as a layman, and as a layman he was now required to give an account of his stewardship: and forthwith gave orders that all his lay possessions should be confiscated.[20] His name certainly confers no honor on the Royal Peculiar of Bridgnorth, of which he was Dean; but I thought it well to give this brief sketch of his history, as reflecting the manners of the age in which he lived, and as shewing in a very striking way the miserable condition in which the Church was sunk at that period. It was not then as it was afterwards, in Puritan times, when, according to the lively author of _Hudibras_,

[20] This account of Peter de Rivallis, given by Mr. Eyton (in his _Antiquities of Shropshire, Vol. 1, pp. 330, 334_), is collected from the historian, Matthew Paris.

“The pulpit, drum ecclesiastic,
Was beat with fist, instead of a stick.”

Sharper and more formidable weapons were wielded in those days by men in holy orders, and wielded at times to some purpose. It was doubtless a sad perversion of the right order of things, when soldiers in Cromwell’s army took upon them the office of divines; but it was a far worse perversion, when divines became soldiers—when the tonsure was covered with a plumed helm—when Bishops and Deans, like this famed Dean of Bridgnorth, hid a coat of mail underneath their cassock, and wore a dagger at their girdle—when Dignitaries of the highest rank, as was not seldom the case, led out armies to the field, and, sword in hand, mingled in the thickest of the fight.

But the case above referred to, of Peter de Rivallis, is not the only one, which affords evidence of the existence of such a state of things, in early times, in the Deanery of Bridgnorth. In the reign of Edward III, one Henry De Harley, upon a false report of the death of the Dean, Thomas de Eyton, obtained a grant of the Deanery from the king. Thomas de Eyton however making his appearance some time afterwards in the King’s presence, the grant to De Harley was of course withdrawn, and a special mandate given for restoring the rightful Dean. But the ejected Dignitary, not willing to resign the benefice so easily, flew to arms, resolved to support his claim at any cost. His opponent was equally vigorous in the measures which he adopted for the establishment of his rights. They both raised a body of armed men, in order to decide the matter in dispute by the sword; nor was the unseemly strife put an end to, but by the interposition of the sovereign. (_Dukes’ Antiquities of Shropshire, p. 49._)

But about this time there was one connected with the Collegiate Church of Saint Mary Magdalene of Bridgnorth, whose name would cast a lustre on any church in any age; and it is pleasant to turn from these indecent scenes of ambitious strife among ecclesiastics, to contemplate a character so truly exalted as his. The individual, to whom I refer, was one whose influence on the Church and State was very considerable in his day, having been twice entrusted with the Great Seal of England, both in the reign of Edward III. and Richard II; and Bishop of one of the most extensive dioceses in the kingdom—yet one, whose virtues were more eminent than his rank or talents, and to whom, it should be added, the Church of England owes more, perhaps, than to any other individual, for the sound and learned education of her clergy—the memorable William of Wykeham. He was Prebendary of Saint Mary’s[21] in the year 1360; and it is no little honor to our town, that the name of this great and good man is thus connected with it. This may justify my introducing here a few particulars respecting him; for it seems desirable that none of the readers, for whom these pages are chiefly intended, should be unacquainted with one who was by far the most illustrious person ever connected with the Collegiate Church of Bridgnorth.

[21] In the certificate, made to the Archbishop of Canterbury, of the benefices of William of Wykeham, is the following entry:—“Item the aforesaid Sir William of Wykeham, at the time of the date of the aforesaid monition, by collation of our Lord, the illustrious King of England, the canonry and Prebend of Alnthle, (Alveley) in the aforesaid our Lord the King’s free Chapel of Bruggenorth.”—_Lowth’s Life of Wykeham, p. 34._

Wykeham, early in life, before taking orders, was introduced into the Court of Edward III., and recommended himself to the King by his great skill in architecture. He was made surveyor of his works; and to him it is chiefly that the Royal Family of England are indebted for by far the noblest of their palaces—Windsor Castle. He grew into such favour with his sovereign, that he heaped preferments upon him, both civil and ecclesiastical, till at length he advanced him to the important See of Winchester. In the government of his Diocese he was a great reformer, and most zealously set himself to correct the ecclesiastical abuses which he discovered; and by the purity of his own life, as well as by the strict and vigilant discipline which he exercised, brought about a great improvement in the condition of the clergy. Through the royal bounty, wealth flowed in on him in great abundance; but he was only intent on finding channels for the useful distribution of it. His munificence was unbounded, so that it is doubtful whether any sovereign Prince ever expended so large a revenue on others, as he did in his public and private charities.[22] Among other works, which attest the largeness of his heart in this respect, may be mentioned his maintaining twenty-four poor persons in his own family—his building and restoring churches, and erecting residences for his clergy, at his own expense—and his rebuilding at an immense cost the nave of his own Cathedral Church at Winchester, which stands at this day a noble monument, not only of his princely munificence, but of his architectural taste; for there are few ecclesiastical buildings in England that equal it in dignity and grandeur. But the chief works which have rendered his name illustrious as a benefactor, are the building and endowing two noble Colleges, one at Winchester, and the other in Oxford; the former of which he designed as a nursery for the latter. These he enriched by very large and liberal endowments, and enriched them still more by the treasures of wise counsels and wholesome laws which he introduced into the statutes, which are so admirable—“drawn up with such judgment and reach of thought,” as Collier observes, “that they have been transcribed for the benefit of other houses; and served as it were as a pattern to the principal Colleges of Oxford and Cambridge;” (_Ecclesiastical History_, _Book_ VII, _p. 270_) so that it is no hazardous assertion to make, that no one person in modern or ancient times has done more—perhaps none so much—for the sound education of the clergy of England as William of Wykeham, some time Prebendary of St. Mary’s, Bridgnorth. At this very time, after the lapse of nearly five hundred years, Bridgnorth is receiving the benefit of his noble institutions; for the present Head Master[23] of Bridgnorth Grammar School is a Wykehamite, taught, and trained, and nurtured in Winchester and New College. His fitness for the important post he at present occupies, he owes, in part at least, to William of Wykeham: so that whatever Wykeham in ancient times received as Prebendary in the Deanery of Bridgnorth, he is now paying back to its inhabitants, in the good instruction which is given to their children in Bridgnorth Grammar School.

[22] “Whosoever considers the vast buildings and rich endowments made by this prelate, beside his expense in repairing the Cathedral at Winchester, will conclude such achievements impossible for a subject, until he reflect on his vast offices of preferments.”—_Fuller’s Church History_, _B._ IV., _Cent._ XIV.

[23] The Rev. H.G. Merriman, M.A.

_The Church of Saint Leonard._

The other Church of Bridgnorth, Saint Leonard’s, is, in all probability, nearly as ancient in its foundation as Saint Mary’s. No document exists which gives us the exact date of its foundation, but there is reason to believe it is coeval, or nearly so, with the foundation of the Borough; for Leland, who visited Bridgnorth in the reign of Henry VIII., states that Saint Leonard’s was the sole Parish Church of the town; and as it is not to be supposed that so important a Borough would have been without a Parochial Church even in its infancy, a very early date must be assigned to it. Mr. Eyton, who suggests this strong argument for the antiquity of its foundation, subjoins to it however the remark, that “as yet no architectural evidence occurs to strengthen this assertion.” But he was not aware, when he made this observation, of the fact, that in making some repairs in the chancel, a few years since, the workmen came upon a stone carved with a moulding which is supposed to be of Norman character; affording very probable evidence that the building, of which it was a part, belonged to the early period to which Mr. Eyton refers.

The earliest written notice which can be referred to respecting St. Leonard’s, though it implies the pre-existence of the Church, cannot itself be ascribed to an older period than the middle of the thirteenth century. It occurs in a legal document, and is as follows:—“Roger, son of Richard Irish, (Hybernensis) sells to Walter Palmer, for 6s., a rent of 6d., issuing from certain field-land without the cemetery of Saint Leonard, which land William Sholton held of the Vendor, by the same rent.” (_Antiquities of Shropshire, Vol. 1, p. 341._) It is also ascertained from existing documents, that two chantries, or side chapels, were set up in Saint Leonard’s; the one in the time of Edward II, the other in the time of Edward III. This latter was founded by William de la Hulle, who “assigns his messuage in Bridgnorth, (lying between the conduit and a tenement belonging to Richard Brown) also thirty acres of land, and sixty shillings there, to three chaplains, who were to pray daily in the Church of Saint Leonard’s, for the souls of his father and mother, and for his own soul, and those of his two wives and children.“ (_Dukes’ Antiquities_, XXXVII.) I cannot but think that there still exists in Saint Leonard’s Church some remains of one of these ancient chapels. In the south wall of the nave there may be seen a Piscina, about six feet above the level of the present floor: the height of it proves that the wall, in which it is placed, formed part of a former structure, the floor of which must have stood a good deal higher than the present one, for the usual height of a Piscina from the ground was about two or three feet. A Piscina also, it is to be noticed, was an appendage to an altar, and was never built but in connection with one; so that there must have been an altar, and consequently a chapel, in this part of Saint Leonard’s Church, of which the present south wall formed a part; and we have no reason for supposing this to be any other than that attached to the parish Church, in the reign of Edward II, or Edward III.

John Leland represents Saint Leonard’s Church in his time (A.D. 1536) as one of great beauty, and there can be no doubt that originally it was a large and magnificent building; for as late as the year 1645, when Symonds, an officer in Charles’s army, visited Bridgnorth, it was still “a noble structure,” ornamented with painted windows. He has given a sketch of the figures on several of these. One of them, here given, was that of an ancient Knight in armour, with his sword girded on his right thigh, and his cross-shield painted beside him. It is supposed to be Adam de Molineux,[24] who lived in the reign of King Henry III.

[24] “Grandson of Robert de Villiers, Lord of Little Crossby. This is supposed to be the knight, who was pourtrayed in the glass of three windows, in the upper part of Bridgnorth Church, in Com, Salop, in antique mail, cloathed with a surcoat, and girt with his sword and spurs: over which is an equilateral triangular shield, in which the arms of Molineux are depicted.”—_Baronetage_, 1741, _in voce_.

Symonds also gives a description of some Altar Tombs, situate in the north aisle (an aisle unhappily no longer in existence), on one of which “lay a man in armour and a woman, with many painted escutcheons, belonging to the Hoord family, of Hoord’s Park. Another in the same aisle, the statue of a woman, fayrlie gilt, in alabaster, with this inscription circumscribed, and coats of arms.”

“HERE LYETH THE BODY OF
=_FFrancis FFermer_,=
DAUGHTER OF THOMAS HOORD, ESQ.,
AND
WIFE OF THOMAS FERMER, ESQ.,
WHO DYED
10 DAY OF JULY, 1570.”[25]

[25] Symonds’s Diary, a M.S. in the British Museum, p. 45.

The present Church of Saint Leonard’s, parts of which belonged no doubt to the original building, forms, in the condition in which it now stands, a sad contrast to the “fayre church” of John Leland’s time. Perhaps the future inhabitants of the town and of the surrounding district, all of whom have more or less an interest in it, may feel an earnest zeal for this house of God, and may possess the means as well as the desire, of compleating the restoration of it, which was begun a few years since, but was discontinued for want of funds. It is a pity, even in an architectural point of view, to see it in its present decayed condition; for it stands on as fine a platform, perhaps, as any ecclesiastical building in England, and might be made, without any considerable cost, both externally and within, a noble temple. Its ancient Church Yard too, the burying place of so many generations, will, it is to be hoped, ere long, be rescued from the dishonoured state in which it lies. There sleep the dead of many centuries. A few feet below the level of the present graves lie the remains of those, who died in the period of the great Rebellion—some of them slain, perhaps, fighting for what they deemed the cause of God, and of their country. A few feet deeper rest the ashes of men, who were co-temporary with Cranmer and Ridley, and who witnessed the progress of the glorious Reformation. Deeper still lie those who died in the stormy times of York and Lancaster. Lower still would be found the dust of those, who belonged to the age of the great Plantagenets; and on a still lower bed sleep those who lived when the sceptre of England was swayed by Kings of Norman blood. Reverence then for the dead, who were buried there ages long since, as well as reverence for those who have been laid there in our own time, should make us anxious to see restored to a higher degree of decency and order than at present marks its condition, the ancient Cemetery of Saint Leonard’s Church.

I greatly regret that the historical notices of Saint Leonard’s Church are so very scanty; for loving as I do, the very stones of the old building, I should have been glad to associate it with any interesting traditions of an early date. But these are wanting. However, in the _Blakeway Papers_, in the Bodleian Library, there is preserved the narrative of one incident that occurred in Saint Leonard’s Church, which is indeed worthy of a memorial. It is of too private a nature to find its way into the page of history; yet, by those who are familiar with the locality where it took place, and who find pleasure in the manifestation of nobleness of disposition and magnanimity, even in the youngest, it will not be read without interest.

The manuscript from which I copied it is as follows:—“Mr. Leighton told me a story connected with this church, which is worth relating, though I can assign no date or name to it. Two boys were at play in the upper part of Saint Leonard’s Church, when some of the beams or joists, on which they were standing, gave way. One of the boys had just time to catch hold of the beams with his arms, and the other boy slipping over his body caught hold of the other boys legs. There they hung for some time calling for help: but no one heard them. At length the upper boy said he could hold no longer. The lower boy said, “Do you think you could save yourself if I were to loose you.” “Yes,” said the other, “I think I could.” “Well then,” said he, “God bless you,” and loosing his hold was instantly dashed to pieces. The upper boy got up upon the beams, and either climbed to a place of safety, or remained till some one came to his assistance.” This was heroism of the noblest type; nor did the knight in Roman story, who is described as leaping into the gulph in the Forum, evince more true intrepidity of mind, or a more generous spirit of self-sacrifice, than did this poor youth, when he thus quietly loosened his only hold on life, to secure his companion’s safety, and calmly wished him well in the name of God, as he was about to make that fearful fall, which would indeed be life to his friend, but inevitable death to himself. If his name were known, and the exact spot where this affecting incident occurred, they would have been well worthy of being put on record on a mural tablet, in Saint Leonard’s Church.

* * * * *

Besides the Collegiate Church of Saint Mary Magdalene, and the Parochial Church of Saint Leonard, there were several other religious establishments in Bridgnorth, previous to the Reformation. But before I enter on any account of these, it is right that I should take a passing notice of something far more ancient than any of them; which, though standing within the parish of Worfield, is locally connected with our town, and associated with its religious history—namely,

On ascending the very steep hill, which leads out of the town towards Wolverhampton, every one has observed, on the right hand side of the road, a cave hollowed out of the sand-stone rock, which on examination is found more extensive than might at first be supposed. This, there is reason to believe, was in old time the solitary dwelling place of one of the Saxon Princes, a brother of King Athelstan; and hither it is believed he had fled, both that he might enjoy religious solitude, and also screen himself from the violence and treachery to which his Brother Edwin had fallen a prey. Documents are extant, which shew that there was a Hermitage here in the reign of Edward III., under the patronage of the Crown, and that it bore the name of Athelardestan—a Saxon word, which signifies “the rock” or “stone of Ethelward.”[26] Thus documentary testimony supports the ancient tradition, that this cave, amidst the seclusion of Morfe Forest, was the cell of a royal anchorite—one who turned his back on the intrigues and fascinations of a court, and sought in this deep retirement a course of life more congenial to his feelings. No doubt it was a mistaken sense of duty, which made such men bury themselves in these dark solitudes; for it is far nobler to encounter the world, and to overcome it, than to retire from the conflict—better amidst its corruptions and cares, its trials and temptations, to keep ourselves unspotted by it, than to seek an escape from its evils by deserting the sphere of our appointed duties. It is difficult for us, perhaps, to realize the position of serious and peaceful minds in times of lawlessness and violence, yet at all times the best exercise of self denial and mortification[27] is to be found in the common path of daily life—in intercourse with our fellow men—not in seclusion from them; and that must be a mistaken piety, which seeks to please God by forsaking the responsibilities of our station, and cutting ourselves off from the sympathies and charities of life; still we must not scorn such piety, even though we detect its errors, and lament its weakness; but willingly cherish the hope, that its mistakes and deficiencies were pardoned by Him who is not extreme to mark what is done amiss, and that many an occupant of a solitary hermitage, like this of Ethelward, in the secret preference of his heart, chose the good part which shall not be taken from him.

[26] See the subject discussed by Mr. Eyton, in _Vol. 1, p. 353, Antiquities of Shropshire_.

[27] There is a store of practical wisdom on this subject in these two verses of the Morning Hymn in the “Christian Year,”

“We need not bid for cloister’d cell,
Our neighbour, and our work farewell;
Nor strive to wind ourselves too high
For sinful man beneath the sky.

The trivial round, the common task,
Would furnish all we ought to ask:
Room to deny ourselves; a road
To bring us, daily, nearer God.”

_Hospital of Saint John._

We now come to consider the Ecclesiastical Establishments before referred to, and first that which is usually called the Hospital of Saint John, though it was also dedicated to the Holy Trinity and the Virgin Mary. It was founded by Ralph de Strange, Lord of Alveley, in the reign of Richard I. Such hospitals, though they became after a while a refuge for the poor and destitute generally, yet were originally designed for the entertainment of travellers, and especially of pilgrims, and therefore were built by the way side, that so they might be as accessible as possible, and that the tired traveller might not have far to go for rest and refreshment.[28] Saint John’s hospital was well situated for this purpose. Standing within the angle formed by Mill Street and Saint John’s Street, it commanded every highway by which travellers entered the town from places lying eastward of the Severn. The roads from Quatford and Claverley, and Worfield, and Shiffnal, all converging to a point on that side of the Bridge, passed close to its gate; and no doubt many a wayfaring man, wearied with threading his way through the mazes of Morfe Forest was glad, when he had descended the hill, to rest under its friendly roof.

[28] Tanner’s Notitia Monastica, p. XXVIII, note.

The earliest royal recognition of this Hospital bears date March 9th, 1223. It is a mandate of Henry III., by which he directs Hugh Fitz Robert, Forester of Shropshire, to give the Brethren of the Hospital of St. John twelve cart loads of dry wood in Morf Forest. There is another, about two years later, by which King Henry III., being then at Bridgnorth, commands the same Hugh Fitz Robert to allow the Master and Brethren of the Hospital of the Holy Trinity of Bruges to have three oak trees in Morf Forest for their fire, of the King’s gift. There is also a record of a trial, which took place at the Assizes in Shrewsbury, in the close of the same century, between the Crown and the Prior of this Hospital, respecting some land in the parish of Alveley, claimed by the Prior as part of the endowment of the establishment by Ralph Le Strange. The claim was disputed by the King’s Attorney, who set forth the royal title as by descent from Henry II. The Jurors however found upon their oath, that “the Master had greater right to hold the land as he held it, than the King to have it as he claimed it.” The members of this Religious House were a Prior, or Master, and several Lay Brethren; and the Mastership of it was in the reign of Edward IV. annexed to the Abbey of Lilleshall.[29]

[29] Tanner’s Notitia Monastica, p. 451.

_The Hospital of Saint James._

This was an establishment of a very different kind. It was designed only as a place of refuge for persons afflicted with severe or contagious diseases, and was termed in legal documents _Domus Leprosorum Jacobi_, or as _Maladria Sancti Jacobi_.[30] It stood outside the town, east of the road which led from Saint John’s Hospital to Quatford. Its founders were, probably, the community of the Borough of Bridgnorth, and such an establishment may be considered as one of the sanitary measures which they adopted for the benefit of the town. Many of the large towns in England had establishments of this nature in the thirteenth century; and there is evidence to prove, that the Leper House of Saint James, in Bridgnorth, was founded previously to 1224; for on the 22nd of September of that year, Henry III., who was then at Bridgnorth Castle, issued the following mandate to Hugh Fitz Robert, “Know that for the reverence of God, and for the health of our soul, and the soul of the Lord King John our Father, we have granted to the Leprous Brethren of the Hospital of Saint James, at Bruges, that they may have one horse, daily plying in our Forest of Morf, to collect dry stumps and dead wood for their fires, until we come of age.” There is also a very early charter of the thirteenth century, now in the possession of T. C. Whitmore, Esq., of Apley, bearing the Seal of the Hospital of Saint James, by which it would appear that this society was constituted without any superior of its own body, and that it acted under the guidance, and with the consent of the good men of the town, and that its members were of both sexes. (_Antiquities of Shropshire, Vol. 1, p. 349._)

[30] Mr. Eyton mentions that there was a Maladrerie near Bridgnorth of older date than this, being described in deeds as “Vetus Maladria.” It was situated on the Oldbury side of the town, and abutted on two water-courses, called “Reymund’s Ditch,” and the “Ditch towards Aldebur.”—_Charter at Apley Park._

These two establishments, the Hospital of Saint John and that of Saint James, the one for the relief of the indigent, and the refreshment of travellers, the other for the relief of diseased persons, were swept away by the Act for the dissolution of Monasteries and Religious Houses, which passed in the reign of Henry VIII. What now answers to these two in our town, are the Union Poor House and the Infirmary. I am not about to institute a comparison between the modern institutions, and those of olden times; and I most willingly bear testimony, that the indigent and invalids, who are admitted into the Poor House and Infirmary of Bridgnorth, receive the kindest and tenderest treatment; at the same time we ought to be aware, that the ancient Religious Houses of this Country, two of which were connected with our Borough, afforded to the sick and needy substantial relief, and that, whatever defects might belong to the system on which they were carried on, they were for a time of essential service. Abuses did creep into them no doubt—abuses of so flagrant a character, as called loudly for reform—nevertheless, they afforded a shelter for houseless poverty, a retreat for old age, and a refuge for disease, not to be found elsewhere; and when a rapacious and mercenary law[31] decreed their dissolution, confiscated their property, uprooted their establishments, and swept them from the land, it left the poor unbefriended, and subjected them to the severest sufferings, by casting them for relief on the precarious supply that private charity afforded. The late Professor Blunt, of Cambridge, in his valuable work on the Reformation, gives the following description of the ancient Religious Houses, which is as true as it is graphic. “They had been the Almshouses, where the aged dependants of more opulent families, the decrepit servant, the decayed artificer, retired as to a home, neither uncomfortable nor humiliating. They had been the County Dispensaries, a knowledge of medicines, and of the virtues of herbs, being a part of Monkish learning. They had been foundling asylums, relieving the state of many orphan and outcast children, and ministering to their necessities, God’s ravens in the wilderness, bread and flesh in the morning, and bread and flesh in the evening. They had been Inns to the wayfaring man, who heard from afar the sound of the vesper bell, at once inviting him to repose and devotion, and who might sing his matins with the morning star, and go on his way rejoicing.” (_p. 141._)

[31] It is a very common opinion, that the suppression of the Religious Houses in the reign of Henry VIII. was universally countenanced and encouraged by the Reformers; and Roman Catholic writers are very anxious to give this opinion currency; but it is wholly groundless. Almost all the Bishops of the new learning, as the Reformers were called, were against the misapplication of the Abbey lands; and Queen Anne Boleyn, though so strong a favourer of the Reformation, is said to have been so averse to the measure, that she put up Bishop Latimer upon preaching against it before the King. On the other hand, the measure found very strong advocates among the Roman Catholics, Laity and Clergy; and of these one of the most conspicuous was the famous Bishop Gardener, who is said to have been as busy as any in declaiming against the Religious Houses, and to have commended the King in many of his sermons for suppressing them.—See some curious statements on the subject in _Tanner’s Notitia Monastica_, _p._ XL, _notes_.

_The Friars._

This was a House of Franciscan or Grey Friars,[32] an order that was founded by Francis of Assisi, early in the thirteenth century, and introduced into this country in the reign of Henry III. About the middle of that reign, a branch of this fraternity settled in Bridgnorth, and fixed their residence by the Severn side, on a site now occupied by Messrs. Southwell’s Carpet Manufactory. There they built both a Friary and a Church. The great Hall, or Refectory, which belonged to this establishment is still standing, and its oak-pannelled ceiling and stone fire-place have not yielded to the wear of time, but, after the lapse of six hundred years, are still in good preservation. Some years ago, a few skeletons were dug up near this spot, and very lately several others have been found; the place where they lay marking out, no doubt, the situation of the Cemetery, which belonged to the Church of the Friars.

[32] They were called Grey Friars from their habit, which was a loose garment of a grey colour, reaching down to their ankles.—_Notitia Monastica_, _p._ XXI.

There is a record of a curious trial at Shrewsbury Assizes, bearing date 1272, which brings the Friars of Bridgnorth under notice. They were charged with having enclosed the King’s highway on the bank of the Severn, thereby damaging the King’s revenue. It was stated on this trial, that “they take stones and rubbish from the bank of the Severn, and throw them into the river, whereby they have realised to themselves a piece of ground, one hundred and fifty feet long, and fifty feet wide, and this they have enclosed. By which process the bank causes the water to pound upon the King’s Mills, the damage whereunto is five merks per annum, and this was done sixteen years back.” I must leave it to engineers to determine, whether or not there is any trace of this artificial bank still remaining, and whether it is owing to the construction of it, that the Eastern side of the river, near Bridgnorth, is now so much more easily flooded than the Western: if so the inhabitants of the Low Town owe a grudge to the Grey Friars of the thirteenth century.

But some of the brethren of this community were, I doubt not, often employed in much more important work than in banking up the Severn, and gaining ground by encroaching on its channel. By the ancient seal of their foundation, an engraving of which is given on the following page, it may be seen that they were “_prædicatores_”—preachers. It was a dark age in which they discharged this office, and some blessed truths, which hold a prominent place in the system of the Gospel of Christ, were unknown to them, or known very indistinctly. Nevertheless, many a hooded Friar, in those days of darkness, did the best he could, with the little light he had, to enlighten the ignorant around him; and He who does “not despise the day of small things,” would not suffer his labour to be altogether in vain.

The Monks and Friars of former times have so bad a name among Protestants, (and indeed there is too much reason for it) that it may seem strange that I should express a hope, that the establishment of this Friary of Franciscans in Bridgnorth, should have answered any good purpose; yet I venture to do so. No doubt such establishments became in later years exceedingly corrupt—almost as corrupt as those who profited by their dissolution wished to make out. Often they harboured evils within them of an enormous magnitude. Nevertheless, they at times numbered among their members some most earnest and devoted servants of our Lord, who, in the retirement of their closets, meditated devoutly on His Word, and went forth from thence with a burning zeal to preach it to others. In expressing an opinion, that piety of the highest order might be found among the inhabitants of a cloister, however corrupt the system may have been with which they were outwardly connected, I am glad to be able to fortify myself by so great an authority, and so unsuspected a witness, as Archbishop Leighton. His biographer states, that although he was no friend to monastic seclusion, and regarded the greater number of the regular Clergy of the Roman Catholic Church as “_ignavi fures_,” yet at the same time “he recognized among them a few specimens of extraordinary growth in religion; and thought he had discovered in the piety of some conventual recluses a peculiar and celestial flavour, which could hardly be met with elsewhere. Of their sublime devotion he often spake with an admiration approaching to rapture.”[33] On such a topic I cannot refrain from quoting also the following striking passage from Dr. Maitland, whose acute and learned researches into the state of religion in the middle ages, entitle his opinion to the greatest weight. “I feel no doubt, that, in the darkest age, there were many true and accepted worshippers of God. Not formed into churches, and eminently bearing their testimony in corporate capacities _as_ churches, against the See of Rome (for then I think we should have heard more about them); but as the sheep of Christ, dispersed abroad in the midst of this naughty world—known, perhaps, by this or that name of reproach—or, perhaps, the obscure and unknown, whose names were never written anywhere but in Heaven. I doubt not that there were such, living a life of faith and prayer and communion with God; overlooked in the bustle of cities, and the solitude of cottages, and even shut up in what some modern systems require us to consider as the strongholds of Antichrist—the cell and the cloister. I will not shrink from avowing my belief, that many a tonsured head now rests in Abraham’s bosom; and that many a frail body, bowed down with voluntary humility, and wasted with unprofitable will-worship—clothed in rags, and girt with a bell-rope—was a temple of the Holy Ghost; and that one day—a day when the follies of system, and the sins of party, and man’s judgment of his fellows, will have come to an end—these, her unknown children, will be revealed to the astonishment of a church, accustomed to look back with a mixture of pride and shame to the days of her barrenness. She may ask, ‘Who hath brought up these? Behold I was left alone; these, where have they been?’—but she will have learned to know the seal of the living God, she will embrace them as her sons, and will find better matter of discourse, than their superstition and her illumination. In the mean time, however, they are hidden—perhaps more completely hidden than they need be, if due pains were taken to look after them, and gather what might be known.”[34]

[33] Pearson’s Life of Archbishop Leighton, prefixed to his works, pp. CXVII, CXVIII.

[34] Facts and documents, illustrative, &c. of the Albigenses and Waldenses, 1832, p. 45.

We have happily an instance, to which, without going out of our way, we can refer, in proof that the spirit of sincere and devoted piety may be found in a monk or friar of ancient days. It is that of a Shropshire monk of the twelfth century—Ordericus, the original historian of our county, to whose records we are indebted for some of the facts connected with the early history of Bridgnorth, related in the foregoing pages. In the close of his history he subjoins an account of himself, which breathes throughout a deep-seated humility, and ardent gratitude, which it would be well indeed if we, with our clearer views and larger knowledge, could catch the spirit of. The whole of it is well worthy a perusal, but I can only find room for the concluding passage.

“Thus, thus, O Lord God, Thou who didst fashion me, and didst breathe into my nostrils the breath of life, hast Thou, through these various gradations, imparted to me Thy gifts, and formed my years to Thy service. In all the places to which Thou hast led me, Thou hast caused me to be beloved, by Thy bounty, not by my own deserving. For all Thy benefits, O merciful Father, I thank Thee. I laud and bless Thee: for my numberless offences, with tears I implore Thy mercy. For the praise of Thy unwearied goodness look upon Thy creature, and blot out all my sins. Grant me the will to persist in Thy service, and strength to withstand the attacks of Satan, till I attain, by Thy grace, the inheritance of everlasting life. And what I have prayed for myself, I pray, O God, for my friends, and well-wishers. The same also I pray for all the faithful: and forasmuch as the efficacy of our own merits cannot suffice to obtain those eternal gifts, after which the desires of the perfect aspire,—