Before the Reformation the appearance of our churches was certainly splendid, and differed much from the Puritan simplicity of later times. The walls were covered with mural paintings. The windows, soon to be

"Shorn of their glass of a thousand colourings, Through which the deepened glories once could enter,"

were then resplendent with stained glass. Above, the rood looked down on all the worshippers. Everywhere there was beautifully carved woodwork, gilded and painted, tombs of knights and dames all painted and adorned, altars with rich embroidered hangings. The floor was composed of encaustic tiles, and had many memorial brasses. Armour, crests, and banners hung upon the walls. Lights burned before numerous images, and the whole appearance of our churches was gorgeous and magnificent.

Many changes have taken place since. Coatings of whitewash hide the mural paintings. Sacrilegious hands "have broken down all the carved work with axes and hammers." The stone altars have disappeared, and instead we have "an honest table decently covered." Reading-pews for the clergy were set up, and in the last century the hideous "three decker," which hid the altar and utterly disfigured the sacred building. Instead of the low open seats great square high pews filled the nave. Hideous galleries were erected which obstructed the windows and hid the architectural beauties of former days. The old timber roofs were covered, and low flat ceilings substituted. Brasses were torn up and sold by dishonest churchwardens, and old monuments broken and defaced. The old stained-glass windows were destroyed. The Communion table was taken from the east end of the chancel, and seats erected round it. Crosses were defaced everywhere, and crucifixes destroyed. Puritan profanation and wanton destruction devastated our churches to a degree which has never been equalled since the hordes of heathens and barbaric Danish invaders carried fire and sword into the sanctuaries of God.



Much harm was done by the Goths and Vandals of the nineteenth century. Many old churches, replete with a thousand memories of the past, were pulled down entirely, and modern structures of "Victorian Gothic" style erected in their place, which can have none of the precious associations which the old churches had. Much harm was done to the old features of many churches by so-called "restoration," carried out by men ignorant of architecture and antiquities. But we are learning better now. The Society of Antiquaries has done much to prevent injudicious restoration and the destruction of our old churches, and if any incumbent and his parishioners are thinking of restoring their church, they cannot do better than to consult the secretaries of that learned body, who will show how best to preserve the interesting memorials of the past which time has spared.



CHAPTER XV

CHURCH PLATE

Spoliation—Few remains of pre-Reformation plate—Testimony of inventories—Plate found in graves of bishops—Characteristics of chalices in different periods—Inscriptions—Devices on patens— Censers—Pyx—Monstrance—Chrismatory—Pax—Sacring bell—Elizabethan chalice—Bridal cup—Post-Reformation plate—Hall marks.

We have already mourned over the wanton destruction of much that was of intense interest and value in our churches; but the most systematic robbery and spoliation of our church goods at the time of the Reformation were carried out in the matter of church plate. Henry VIII. stripped our cathedrals and conventual churches of almost all that was valuable, and the unscrupulous commissioners of Edward VI. performed a like office for our parish churches and chantries. A large number of the old chalices were also melted down and converted into Communion cupsduring the reigns of Edward VI. and Elizabeth. Hence of all the vast store of church plate which our churches possessed before the Reformation, at the present time throughout all England only thirty-four chalices and seventy-three patens remain. It is true that not all the ancient vessels fell into the hands of the commissioners of the king. In the churchwardens' account books of the period we read of sundry sales of church plate. Evidently the parishioners had some presentiment of the coming spoliation; so they sold their valuables, and kept the proceeds of the sale for "the paving of the streets," or other parochial necessities.

The ancient inventories of church goods show the deplorable loss of the valuables of the church which has taken place. Thus at the church of St. Lawrence, Reading, in the year 1517, the inventory tells us of the following: a cross of silver and gilt; a censer of silver gilt; another censer; a ship of silver for holding incense; another ship of silver; two candlesticks of silver; two books bound in silver; two basins of silver; a pyx of silver gilt, with a silver pin; a monstrance of silver gilt; a silver gilt chrismatory for the holy oil; a pax; two cruets; a bell; a chalice, with a crucifix enamelled on the foot and the Trinity on the paten; another chalice, with a crucifix engraved on the foot and a hand on the paten; another chalice similarly described; another similar to first chalice; and two others, with a crucifix on the foot and a vernicle, or vera icon (a representation of our Lord's face miraculously delineated on the napkin of St. Veronica). All these vessels were made of silver or silver gilt. Nor were these all the treasures. There were several reliquaries of silver gilt containing parts of the holy cross; a gridiron, with a bone of St. Lawrence, and other articles contained in silver boxes; and many books bound with silver clasps. The total weight of silver in this church amounted to seven hundred ounces.

Village churches were, of course, less sumptuously furnished than this important town church, which being situated under the shadow of one of the largest and most important abbeys in the kingdom, would receive many costly gifts and benefactors. But the inventories of village churches show that there was no lack of plate, rich altar hangings, copes, and vestments, which helped to swell the goodly heap of spoil. In country churches in Oxfordshire there were silver chalices and patens, pyxes, censers, candlesticks, chrismatories, crosses, sanctus bells, and other articles of plate.

It was the practice in mediaeval times to place in the coffin of a bishop a chalice and paten; hence some of the earliest specimens of church plate which we possess have been recovered from episcopal graves.[3] The Rites of Durham enjoin that on the death of a bishop he was to be buried "with a little chalice of silver, other metal, or wax" aid upon his breast within the coffin.[4] Most of these were made of pewter or lead, but some have been found of silver gilt, latten, and tin. It is perhaps scarcely necessary for our present purposes to describe these early specimens of sacred vessels, as the number of them is so limited; and few of my readers will be able to discover any mediaeval examples amongst the plate of their own church. However, I will point out a few peculiarities of the plate of each period.

The earliest chalice, used in the church of Berwick St. James, Wilts, until a few years ago, and now in the British Museum, dates from the beginning of the thirteenth century. Its bowl is broad and shallow, the stem and knot (by which the vessel was held) and foot being plain and circular. Then the makers (from 1250 to 1275) fashioned the stem and knot separately from the bowl and foot, and shaped them polygonally. During the remaining years of the century the foot was worked into ornate lobes. Then the bowl is deepened and made more conical. About 1350 the custom arose of laying the chalice on its side on the paten to drain at the ablutions at Mass; and as the round-footed chalices would have a tendency to roll, the foot was made hexagonal for stability. Henceforth all the mediaeval chalices were fashioned with a six-sided foot. By degrees the bowl became broader and shallower, and instead of the base having six points, its form is a sexfoil without any points. Several old chalices are engraved with the inscription—

Calicem salutaris accipiam et nomen Domini inbocabo.



In one of the compartments of the base there was a representation of a crucifix, or the Virgin, or ihc, or xpc.

The usual devices on ancient patens were the Manus Dei, or hand of God, in the act of blessing; on later ones the vernicle, or face of our Lord; the Holy Trinity; the Holy Lamb; the sacred monogram. The oldest paten in existence is that found at Chichester Cathedral in a coffin, and its date is about the year 1180. In the centre is a rude engraving of the Agnus Dei, and it bears the inscription—

Agnus Dei qui tollis pecata mundi miserere nobis.



The grave of Bishop Grostete at Lincoln yielded up an ancient paten (1230-53), which has the figure of a bishop vested, the right hand raised in the act of blessing, the left holding a crozier. The oldest piece of church plate still in use is a remarkable paten at Wyke Church, near Winchester, the date of which is about 1280. It bears an engraving of the Agnus Dei holding a banner, and around the rim is the legend—

CUNTA: CREO: VIRTUTE: REGO: PIETATE REFORMO.

Another favourite inscription was Benedicamus patrem et filium cum spiritu sancto; but on the paten in the church of Great Waltham, Essex, the important word spiritu is omitted for want of room.



We have already mentioned several of the important pieces of church plate which were in use in mediaeval times. Censers, or thuribles, were common in all our ancient parish churches, sometimes of gold or silver, more usually of brass or latten, and were in the shape of a covered vase or cup, perforated so as to allow the fumes of burning incense to escape. Most of our English censers are now in museums, but several ancient ones are still in use in the private chapels of Roman Catholic families.

Old inventories always mention a pyx, a box or vessel of gold or silver, in which the Host was reserved for the sick and infirm. It often resembles a chalice, except that instead of the bowl there is a covered receptacle for the Host. A beautiful specimen was dug up a few years ago in the churchyard of Yateley, Hants. Another vessel was the monstrance, in which the Blessed Sacrament was carried in procession, and exposed on the altar. The form varied. Sometimes monstrances were made in the shape of a tower, or a covered chalice; sometimes in the form of images carrying silver pyxes, elaborately ornamented with many jewels. Processions were always a great feature of mediaeval worship; hence the monstrance was frequently in use, especially on such occasions as the celebrations of Corpus Christi Day.

Holy oil was much used in the services, as in the Roman Catholic Church at the present time. It was blessed by a bishop on Maundy Thursday, and used in Baptism, Confirmation, and Extreme Unction, as well as at the Consecration of Churches, Ordination, and the Coronation of Kings. The vessel for holding the oil was an important piece of church plate, and was called a chrismatory. Usually there were three distinct vessels, one for holding the oil for the sick, a second for use at confirmations, and a third for the baptismal oil. Sometimes these vessels are labelled with the words EXT. UNC., CAT., and CHR., according to the recommendation of St. Charles Borromeo, in order that each oil might be kept for its proper use, and that no confusion might arise.

The pax was a small tablet of silver or other precious metal, used for giving the kiss of peace during High Mass. The celebrant kissed the tablet, and held it aloft before all the people. It was usually adorned with a representation of the Agnus Dei. Of the cruets containing wine and water for the celebration we have already written. Then there was a sacring bell, often made of silver, which was rung during the service at the time of the elevation of the Host, and at the sound the congregation knelt.

We have now examined the aumbry, and noted its contents, upon which the commissioners in the reign of Edward VI. made such shameful inroads. Henceforth the plate was confined to a chalice and paten, alms-dish, and usually a large silver flagon. The form of the chalice was entirely changed. As we have noticed, the bowl of the pre-Reformation chalices became smaller and shallower, on account of the gradually introduced practice of refusing the wine to the laity. Now in the year 1562 the size of the bowl was greatly enlarged, and the "Communion cup" took the place of the "Massing chalice." Some poor parishes were obliged to content themselves with pewter vessels. St. Lawrence's Church, Reading, had a curious bridal cup, which was carried before all brides who were married in that church. The custom of drinking wine in the church at marriages is enjoined in the Hereford Missal, and the Sarum Missal ordered that the bread immersed in the wine, and consumed by the company, should first be blessed by the priest. Some of these post-Reformation vessels are extremely interesting. They record the thankofferings of pious donors on the occasion of some great event in the national annals, such as the Restoration, or of some private mercy vouchsafed to the individual. They record the connection of some family with the parish, the arms they bore; and the Hall marks tell us of their date, which is often anterior to the date of the inscription.

Hall marks were first introduced in 1300 by Edward I. in order to keep up the purity of silver, and consisted of the lion's or leopard's head crowned. This was called the king's mark. The maker's mark was introduced in 1363, and was some initial or badge chosen by the silversmith. To these were added in 1438 the year letter or assayer's mark, a different letter being chosen for each year. When the alphabet was exhausted, another with differently shaped letters was begun. In 1545 the lion passant was introduced, and since 1784 the portrait of the reigning sovereign has appeared. With the assistance of Mr. Cripps' Old English Plate, which contains a list of the alphabets used in marking plate, it is not very difficult to discover the date of any piece of silver. Inventories of church plate are being made in many counties and dioceses, and no more useful work can be undertaken by our local antiquarian societies.

[3] Mediaeval Chalices and Patens, by W.H. St. John Hope and T.M. Fallow.

[4] Surtees Society, vol. xv. pp. 45, 49.



CHAPTER XVI

MONUMENTAL EFFIGIES AND BRASSES

Reverence for the dead—Cists—Stone coffins—Devices—Introduction of effigies—Cross-legged effigies—Wooden effigies—Incised effigies—Brasses—Essentially English—Vast number of brasses— Palimpsests—Destruction—Costumes and fashions—Ecclesiastics— Lawyers—Soldiers—Canopies and inscriptions—Punning inscriptions— Contractions—Emblems—Heraldry.

The pious care which we all love to bestow on the mortal remains of our nearest and dearest, and the respect and honour with which all men regard the bodies of departed heroes, kings, saints, and warriors, have produced a remarkable series of sepulchral monuments, examples of which may be found everywhere. The cairns and tumuli of the primitive races which inhabited our island were the results of the same feelings of reverent regard which inspired the beautifully carved mediaeval monuments, the memorial brass, or the cross-shaped tombstone of to-day.

I have already mentioned the cromlechs and barrows and other memorials of the early inhabitants of Britain. We have seen the cists of Saxon times, the coffins formed of several stones placed together in the form of a table. The Normans introduced stone coffins for the sepulchre of their great men, many of which may be seen in our cathedrals and old conventual churches. On the lids of their coffins they frequently cut a single cross. When the style of architecture changed to that of the Early English and Decorated periods, monumental slabs were ornamented with much greater richness and elaboration, and inscriptions were added, and also some device which showed the trade, rank, or profession of the departed. Thus the chalice and paten denoted a priest; a sword showed the knight; an axe, a forester; an ink-horn, a notary; shears, a wool merchant.

At the beginning of the thirteenth century it occurred to someone to preserve the likeness of his departed friend as well as the symbols of his rank and station. So effigies were introduced upon the surface of the slabs, and were carved flat; but ere fifty years had passed away the art of the sculptor produced magnificent monumental effigies. Knights and nobles lie clad in armour with their ladies by their sides. Bishops and abbots bless the spectators with their uplifted right hands. Judges lie in their official garb, and merchants with the emblems of their trade. At their feet lie animals, usually having some heraldic connection with the deceased, or symbolical of his work—e.g. a dragon is trodden down beneath the feet of a bishop, signifying the defeat of sin as the result of his ministry. The heads of effigies usually rest on cushions, which are sometimes supported by two angels.

A peculiar characteristic of the military effigies in England is that the knights are often represented with the legs crossed. Many speculations have been made with regard to the meaning of this fashion of cross-legged effigy. It is a popular superstition, in which for some years the writer shared, that such effigies represented Crusaders. We were told in our young days that when the knight had his legs crossed at the feet he had gone to the Crusades once; when at the knees, that he had been to two Crusades; and when crossed at the thighs, he had been thrice to rescue the Holy City from the hands of the infidels. All this seemed very plausible and interesting, but it is undoubtedly a myth. Many known Crusaders have their effigies with uncrossed legs, and many who never went to the Crusades have cross-legged effigies. Moreover, there are no such monuments in any foreign country which swelled the army of Crusaders. Hence we must abandon the pleasing superstition, and reconcile ourselves to the fact that no particular signification can be assigned to these cross-legged effigies, and that only fashion prompted the mediaeval sculptors to adopt this attitude for their figures. This mode prevailed until about the year 1320.

At the close of the fifteenth century the art of making monumental effigies degenerated together with the skill of the architects of that period. We see the husband and wife kneeling facing each other, with a faldstool before each figure. A company of small figures below the effigies represent the children, the boys on one side, the girls on the other.

Early wooden effigies were also in use. There is one much battered by the careless hands of former generations of villagers in the rural church of my parish of Barkham. The artists often used much colour, gilding, and enamel in making these effigies; and often rich canopies were erected over them, containing fine tabernacle-work and figures of saints in niches.

Another form of effigy was commonly in use, in addition to the figures just described. These are called incised effigies, which were cut in outline upon flat slabs of stone, the lines being filled in with enamelled metals. Thorton Abbey, Lincolnshire, and Brading, in the Isle of Wight, have examples of this work. But the great expense of these enamels, and also their frailty when exposed in the pavements of churches, led to the use of brass; and hence arose the introduction of memorial brasses for which our country is famous.

We owe the application of brass to memorial tablets to the artists of Flanders, and the date of their introduction is about the middle of the thirteenth century. The execution of almost all of our English brasses is due to native artists. Foreign brasses are usually of great size, and consist of a quadrangular sheet of metal, on which is engraved the figure, usually under a canopy, the background being ornamented with rich diaper, foliage, or scrollwork, and the incisions filled with colouring. Several brasses in England conform to this style of workmanship, and are evidently the production of foreign artists. The English brasses, on the contrary, consist of separate pieces, with an irregular outline, corresponding with that of the figure. They have no brass background; and for delicacy of engraving and general appearance the English brasses are by far the best.

The names of the makers of brasses have been almost entirely lost. Two only bear marks which are supposed to be those of the engraver. No other country can boast of so large a number of these memorials as England, in spite of the hard usage they have received and their wanton destruction. About four thousand remain; and constantly we find the matrices cut in stone slabs, from which brasses have been torn; so that we may assume that quite as many have been destroyed as those which survive. The southern and eastern counties are most richly furnished with these monuments, whereas the western and northern counties have but few brasses. Norfolk, Suffolk, Essex, and Kent are the most rich in this respect. The earliest brass of which we have any record is that of Simon de Beauchamp, who died before 1208. This is mentioned by Leland. The earliest brass now in existence is that of Sir John D'Aubernown at Stoke Dabernon, Surrey, which was fashioned in 1277. In the fourteenth century a very large number of brasses, remarkable for their beauty of form and execution, were made. The artistic workmanship began to decline in the fifteenth century, and in the following became utterly degenerate.

It was not an uncommon practice for subsequent generations to appropriate the memorials of their predecessors. Such brasses are called palimpsests. By the carelessness of churchwardens, by fraud, or spoliation, brasses were taken from the churches, and acquired by some maker in the town. When a new one was required, the tradesman would take from his stock, and on the reverse engrave the figure of the individual whose memory he was called upon to perpetuate. Hence when brasses are taken up from the pavements, frequently the remains of a much earlier memorial are found on the reverse side. There is an example of this curious method of procedure at St. Lawrence's Church, Reading, where on the reverse of a brass to the memory of Walter Barton was found the remains of the brass of Sir John Popham, who was buried at the Charterhouse, London. This monastery was dissolved in 1536, the monuments sold, Sir John Popham's brass among them, which was evidently soon converted into a memorial of Walter Barton.

Sometimes the original brass was appropriated as it lay, the figure being slightly altered to suit the style of costume prevalent at the later date. In other cases the engraver did not even trouble himself to alter the figure, and simply added a new inscription and shield of arms.

The wanton destruction and gross neglect of churchwardens, both before and after the Reformation, were very great. At St. Mary's Church, Reading, the accounts tell a sad tale of the disgraceful damage in the year 1547:—

"Receyvid of John Saunders for iii cwt lacking ix'li of metall that was taken upp of the graves, and of olde candlestycks at vi's the hundred xlvj's ii'd."

Evidently a clean sweep was made of most of the memorial brasses in the church, and few escaped destruction. The tale is too familiar. Most churches have suffered in the same way.

The study of brasses throws much light upon the costumes and fashions of the day when they were engraved. We see priests, who may be recognised by the tonsure and vestments, amongst which we find the alb, amice, stole, maniple, and chasuble. The pastoral staff, ring, mitre, sandals, tunic, dalmatic, and gloves mark the graves of bishops and mitred abbots.

A close skull-cap, a long robe with narrow sleeves, a hood, tippet, and mantle buttoned on the right shoulder, compose the dress of judges and officers of the law, as depicted on brasses. The changes in the fashion and style of armour, which took place between the fourteenth and the seventeenth centuries, are all accurately represented in these memorials; and also the picturesque costumes of ladies with their curious headgear; and the no less various fashions of the male civilian's dress. A study of brasses is an admirable guide to the prevailing style of dress during the periods of their construction.

The beautiful canopies over the heads of the figures are well worthy of attention, and also the inscriptions. These usually take the form of Latin verses; and although many were written by learned abbots and scholars, the classical knowledge displayed is somewhat faulty. Here are a few examples:—

Respice quid prodest precentis temporis aebum Omne quod est, nichil est, preter amare deum.

Sometimes the author of the inscription recorded his name, as did the learned Dame Elizabeth Hobby on a brass at Shottesbrooke, which runs—

O multum dilecte senex, pater atqz bocate, Del quia grandaebis, bel quia probus eras. Annos bixisti nobies decem, atqz satelles Fidus eras regum, fidus erasqz tuis. Iam satis functus baleas, sed tu, deus alme, Sic mihi concedas bibere siqz mori.

Variety was added sometimes by jumbling together various languages, Norman-French, Latin, and English being often oddly combined.

People in the Middle Ages loved punning and playing upon the sound of words. Thus a brass to the memory of Thomas Hylle (or Hill) has some verses beginning "Mons in valle jacet." John Day, the printer, had a very extravagant and jocular epitaph beginning—

"Here lies the Daye that darkness could not blynd."

"He set a Fox to wright how Martyrs runne By death to lyfe"—

alluding to his publication of Foxe's Book of Martyrs. His widow probably married a man named Stone. Hence we read—

"Als was the last encreaser of his store, Who mourning long for being left alone, Sett upp this tombe, her self turned to a Stone."

"Orate pro anima," or "of your charite pray for the soul of ——" were usual inscriptions.

It is somewhat difficult for the unpractised eye to read inscriptions on brasses, owing to the contractions and omissions of letters. Thus m and n are often omitted, and a line is placed over the adjoining letter to indicate the omission. Thus a=ia stands for anima, leg=u for legum. The letter r is also left out. Z stands for que, and there are many other contractions, such as D=ns for Dominus, D=s for Deus, E=ps for Episcopus, g=ia for gratia, m=ia for misericordia, and many others.

The study of the emblems and devices is full of interest. Of ecclesiastical emblems we have the symbols of the Holy Trinity—God the Father represented as an aged person, holding a crucifix on which the dove, an emblem of the Holy Spirit, is alighting—representations of our Lord, angels, saints,[5] evangelists, the fylfot cross, roses, and figures of Death. Sometimes the figure on the brass holds a heart in his hand, which indicates a response on the part of the deceased to the old invitatory "Sursum corda."

The armorial bearings of the deceased are usually represented on brasses, and also personal or professional devices. The founders of churches hold representations in miniature of the churches which they founded. Bishops and abbots have a pastoral staff; priests, a chalice, or a book; wool merchants have woolpacks beneath their feet, and other tradesmen have similar devices denoting their special calling. Merchants' marks also frequently appear; and the mediaeval taste for punning is shown by frequent rebuses formed on the names of the deceased, e.g. a peacock, for one named Pecok; a fox, for a Foxley; four tuns and a cross, for Master Croston.

England may well be proud of the brass memorials of her worthy sons and daughters. It is, however, terribly sad to see the destruction which fanatical and greedy folk have wrought on these beautiful monuments. As we have already noticed, the spoliators of the Reformation period accomplished much wanton destruction, and removed tombs "for greedinesse of the brasse." Cromwell's soldiers and commissioners did a vast deal more damage, violating sepulchres and monuments, and destroying brasses everywhere. A third cause of the defacement and loss of these valuable memorials has been the gross carelessness of churchwardens and incumbents, who during any alterations or restoration of their churches have allowed them to be sold, destroyed, or appropriated by the builders. Truly we have entered upon a diminished inheritance. It behoves us to preserve with the utmost vigilance and care the memorials which fanaticism, greed, and carelessness have spared.

[5] The following are the principal emblems of the Apostles:— St. Andrew, a cross saltier; St. Bartholomew, a knife; St. James the Great, a pilgrim's staff, wallet, escallop shell; St. James the Less, a fuller's bat, or saw; St. John, a chalice and serpent; St. Jude, a boat in his hand, or a club; St. Matthew, a club, carpenter's square, or money-box; St. Matthias, a hatchet, battle-axe, or sword; St. Paul, a sword; St. Peter, keys; St. Philip, a tau cross, or a spear; St. Simon, fishes; St. Thomas, an arrow or spear.



CHAPTER XVII

THE PARISH CHEST

Contents of the parish chest—Parish registers—Effect of Civil War— Burials in woollen—"Not worth L600"—Care bestowed upon registers— Curious entries—Astrology—Gipsies—Jester—Heart-burial—Plagues—Royal visits—Licences for eating flesh, for to be touched for king's evil— Carelessness of custody of registers—Churchwardens' account books—Their value—Curious entries—Sports and pastimes—Paschall money—Brief books—Strange entries in registers and account books—Dog-whippers— King's evil—Treating bishops and poor scholars of Oxford.

The parish chest in the vestry usually contains many documents, which are of profound interest to the student of village antiquities. It contains the old churchwardens' account books, the parish registers, lists of briefs, and often many other papers and records which bear on the history of the parish. The old register books record the names of past generations of villagers, and many curious facts about the parish and its people, which are not found in the dull dry columns of our modern books.

Parish registers were first ordered by Thomas Cromwell in the year 1538, and from that date many of our registers begin.[6] But all vicars did not obey the injunctions of Viceregent Cromwell; they were renewed by Edward VI. in 1547 and by Queen Elizabeth in 1559, and most of our old register books begin with this date. James I. ordered that the registers should be written over again in a parchment book, the entries previously having been recorded on paper. Hence many of our books, although they begin with the year 1538, are really copies of the paper records made previous to 1603.

The disturbances of the Civil War period caused much neglect in the keeping of the registers. The incumbent was often driven away from his flock, and parish registrars were chosen by the parishioners and approved and sworn before a justice of the peace. Here is a record of this business taken from the books of this parish:—

"Whereas Robtr Williams of the prish of Barkham in the County of Berks was elected and chosen by the inhabitants of the same prish to be there prish Register, he therefore ye sd Ro: Wms was approved and sworne this sixteenth day of November 1653. Ri: Bigg, J.P."

Henceforth the children are registered as having been born, not baptised, until the Restoration brought back the clergyman to his flock again, and the entries are written in a scholarly hand, and the disorder of the previous years ceases.

In 1679 an Act was passed requiring that the dead should be buried in woollen, the purpose being to lessen "the importation of linen from beyond the seas, and the encouragement of the woollen and paper manufacturers of this kingdom." A penalty of L5 was inflicted for a violation of this Act; and as frequently people preferred to be buried in linen, a record of the fine appears—e.g. at Gayton, Northamptonshire, where we find in the register—

"1708. Mrs. Dorothy Bellingham was buryed April 5, in Linnen, and the forfeiture of the Act payd fifty shillings to ye informer and fifty shillings to ye poor of the parishe."

Pope wrote the following lines on the burial of Mrs. Oldfield, the actress, with reference to this custom:—

"Odious! in woollen! 'twould a saint provoke (Were the last words that poor Narcissa spoke); No, let a charming chintz and Brussels lace Wrap my cold limbs, and shade my lifeless face."

Sometimes after the name in the register is added the words, "Not worth L600." This refers to the Act of William III. in 1694, which required that all persons baptised, married, or buried, having an estate of that value, should pay a tax of twenty shillings. The money was required for carrying on the war with France, and the Act was in force for five years. This description of the personal estate was not intended to be invidious, but was of practical utility in enforcing the Act.

The parish registers reflect with wonderful accuracy the life of the people, and are most valuable to the student of history. Clergymen took great pride in recording "the short and simple annals of the poor." A Gloucestershire rector (1630 A.D.) wrote in his book the following good advice which might with advantage be taken in many other villages:—

"If you will have this Book last, bee sure to aire it att the fier, or in the Sunne, three or four times a yeare—els it will grow dankish and rott, therefore look to it. It will not be amisse when you find it dankish to wipe over the leaves with a dry wollen cloth. This Place is very much subject to dankishness; therefore I say looke to it."

A study of the curious entries which we occasionally find conveys much remarkable information. Sometimes, in the days of astrology, in order to assist in casting the nativity, it is recorded that at the time of the child's birth "the sun was in Libra," or "in Taurus." Gipsies were evidently numerous in the sixteenth century, as we constantly find references to "the roguish AEgyptians." The domestic jester finds his record in the entry: "1580. March 21, William, fool to my Lady Jerningham." The suicide is "infamously buried." Heart-burial is often recorded, as at Wooburn, Bucks: "1700. Cadaver Edi Thomas, equitis aurati, hic inhumatum fuit vicessimo tertio die Junii."

Records of the visitations of the plague are very numerous in all parts of England, as at Egglescliffe, Durham: "1644. In this year there died of the plague in this towne one and twenty people; they are not all buried in the churchyard, and are not in the Register." Sometimes masses of human bones are found buried in fields outside towns and villages, memorials of this devastating plague.

Parish clerks have not always had very musical voices when they shout out the "Amens." The Rector of Buxted, Sussex (1666 A.D.), records with a sigh of relief the death of his old clerk, "whose melody warbled forth as if he had been thumped on the back with a stone."

Sometimes royal visits to the neighbourhood are recorded, even a royal hunt, as when James I. hunted the hare at Fordham, Cambridgeshire. The register of Wolverton gives "a license for eating flesh on prohibited days granted to Sir Tho. Temple, on paying 13s. 4d." Storms, earthquakes, and floods are described; and records of certificates granted to persons to go before the king to be touched for the disease called the king's evil.

The Civil War is frequently mentioned, and also caused the omission of many entries. At Tarporley, Cheshire, there is a break from 1643 to 1648, for which the rector thus accounts:—

"This intermission hapned by reason of the great wars obliterating memorials, wasting fortunes, and slaughtering persons of all sorts."

Parish registers have fared ill and suffered much from the gross carelessness of their custodians. We read of the early books of Christ Church, Hants, being converted into kettle-holders by the curate's wife. Many have been sold as waste paper, pages ruthlessly cut out, and village schoolbooks covered with the leaves of old registers. The historian of Leicestershire writes of the register of Scraptoft:—

"It has not been a plaything for young pointers—it has not occupied a bacon scratch, or a bread and cheese cupboard—it has not been scribbled on within and without; but it has been treasured ever since 1538, to the honour of a succession of worthy clergymen."—O si sic omnes!

The churchwardens' account books are even of greater value to the student of history than the registers, priceless as the latter are for genealogical purposes. The Bishop of Oxford states that "in the old account books and minute books of the churchwardens in town and country we possess a very large but very perishable and rapidly perishing treasury of information on matters the very remembrance of which is passing away, although their practical bearing on the development of the system of local government is indisputable, and is occasionally brought conspicuously before the eye of the people by quaint survivals.... It is well that such materials for the illustration of this economic history as have real value should be preserved in print; and that the customs which they illustrate should be reclaimed by History from the misty region of folklore, whilst they can." Many of these account books date from pre-Reformation times, and disclose the changes which took place in the fabric of our churches, the removal of roods and other ecclesiastical furniture, during the Reformation. They are usually kept with great exactness, and contain an accurate record of the receipts and expenditure for each year. Some of the entries are very curious, and relate to the sports and pastimes of our ancestors, the mystery plays, and church ales, which were all under the patronage of the churchwardens. The proceeds of these entertainments were devoted to the maintenance of the church, and were included in the accounts, as well as the necessary cost of the merry diversions. Thus in the books of St. Lawrence's Church, Reading, we find such items as the following:—

s. d. "1499. Paid for a coat for Robin Hood 5 4 " for a supper to Robin Hood and his company 1 6 " for making the church clean against the day of drinking in the said church 4"

"1531. Paid for five ells of canvass for a coat for Maid Marian 1 6-1/4"

"Bells for the Morris dancers," "liveries and coats," "bread and ale," "horse-meat of the horses for the kings of Colen on May Day," are some of the items which appear in these books.

Another book tells us about the "Gatherings" at Hock-tide, when on one day the men stopped the women, and on the next the women the men, and refused to let them go until they gave money. The women always succeeded in collecting the most money.

s. d. "It'm. receyved of the men's gatherynge 7 3 " " " women's gatherynge 37 5"

Traces of this custom are still found in many country places. The practice of "hocking" at Hungerford and "lifting" in Lancashire subsist still, but the money collected is no longer devoted to any pious uses.

The item "Paschall money at Easter" frequently occurs. This was originally a collection for the Paschal taper, which burned before the high altar at Eastertide. When, in the reign of Elizabeth, the taper was no longer used, the money was devoted to buying the bread and the wine for the Easter Communion. Another item which often appears is a payment of "Smoke farthings" to the bishop of the diocese at his Visitation Court. This is another name for Peter's pence, formerly given to the Pope. In the accounts of Minchinhampton we find the entry under the year 1576: "For Pentecost money, otherwyse peter pence, sometyme payed to Antecryst of Rome xvi'd." After the Reformation the tax was collected, but given to the bishop.

There are very many other points of interest which a study of the churchwardens' books presents. In more recent times we find constant payments for the slaughter of sparrows, and many other items which scarcely come under the head of ecclesiastical charges.[7] But of course the vestry was then the council chamber of the parish, which managed all the temporal affairs of the village community. Possibly, in these days of Poor Law Unions, District and County Councils, our affairs may be managed better; but there is much to be said in favour of the older system, and Parish Councils are not much of an improvement on the old vestries.

Another book which our parish chest contains is the Brief Book. Briefs were royal letters which were sent to the clergy directing that collections be made for certain objects. These were very numerous and varied. The building of St. Paul's Cathedral after the Great Fire, a fire at Drury Lane Theatre, rebuilding of churches, the redemption of English slaves taken by pirates, the construction of harbours in Scotland, losses by hail, floods, French refugees, Reformed Episcopal churches in Great Poland and Polish Prussia, Protestants in Copenhagen, loss by fire, colleges in Philadelphia—these and many other objects were commended to the liberality of Churchmen. The sums collected were usually very small, and Pepys wrote in his Diary, June 30th, 1661:—

"To church, when we observe the trade of briefs is come now up to so constant a course every Sunday that we resolve to give no more to them."

The granting of briefs gave rise to much abuse, and they were finally abolished by the advice of Lord Palmerston.

The contents of the parish chest afford an unlimited mass of material for those who love to study the curious customs of our forefathers and their strange usages. Here is a record of a much-married person:—

"Mary Blewitt, ye wife of nine husbands successively, buried eight of ym, but last of all ye woman dy'd and was buried, May 7th 1681."

In the margin of the register is written, "This was her funeral text."

The register of Sparsholt, Berks, records an instance of the body of a dead man being arrested for debt. The entry is:—

"The corpse of John Matthews, of Fawler, was stopt on the churchway for debt, August 27, 1689. And having laine there fower days, was by Justices warrant buryied in the place to prevent annoyances—but about sixe weekes after it was by an order of Sessions taken up and buried in the churchyard by the wife of the deceased."

A dog-whipper was an ancient parish official, whose duty was to drive out all dogs from the church. The Wakefield accounts contain the items:—

"1616. Paid to Gorby Stork for whippinge s. d. doggs 2 6"

"1703. For hatts shoes and hoses for sexton and dog-whipper 18 6"

Another official was the person appointed to arouse members of the congregation from their slumbers during divine service. The parish accounts of Castleton record:—

s. d. "1702. Paid to sluggard waker 10 0"

Sometimes the cost of a journey to London was defrayed by the parish in order to enable a sufferer to be touched for the king's evil. The Ecclesfield accounts contain the following entry relating to this custom:—

"1641. Given to John Parkin wife towards her travell to London to get cure of his Majestie for the disease called the Evill, which her s. d. Sonen Thorn is visited withall 6 8"

The clergymen were required to keep a register of all who were so touched, in order that they might not again go to the king and receive the bounty which accompanied the touch. Hence we read in the register of Hambleden, Bucks:—

"1685. May 17, Mary Wallington had a certificate to goe before the King for a disease called the King's Evil."

The treating of bishops and clergy is often noticed in the accounts. Sometimes a sugar-loaf was presented, as at St. James', Bristol:—

"1629. Paid for a sugar loaf for the Lord Bishop 15's 10'd"

Sometimes items relate to their refreshment:—

"1593. Pd for a galland of beer given to the Beishopp of Hereford iiii'd"

"1617. Pd for a quart of wine and sugar bestowed upon two preachers x'd"

The status of students at the Universities was not so high in former days as at present, and poor scholars used to beg their way to Oxford and Cambridge, and receive the assistance of the charitable. Hence we read in the Leverton accounts:—

"1562. Gave to a pore scholar at Oxford. 2s. 0d."

With this record of "a pore scholar" we must leave our study of the contents of the parish chest, which afford such valuable and accurate information about village and town life of ancient times.

[6] 812 registers begin in 1538, 40 of which contain entries prior to that date. 1,822 registers date from 1538 to 1558, and 2,448 from 1558 to 1603.

[7] In the Whitchurch books we find: "1671. Paide for a coate and wastcoate for good wife Clarke 13s., also for linen and shoes; to the Chiurgeons for looking at Ezechiell Huller's legg L3." And such-like entries.



CHAPTER XVIII

STAINED GLASS, TILES, AND MURAL PAINTINGS

Destruction of old windows—Wilfrid's glass-window makers—Glass, stained and painted—Changes in style—Work of foreign artists—Inlaid tiles—Ironwork on doors and screens—Norman hinges—Mediaeval plumbing work—Mural decoration, frescoes, and wall-painting—Cause of their destruction—St. Christopher—Consecration crosses—Norman art—Favourite subjects—Yew trees in churchyards—Lich-gates—The churchyard—Curious epitaphs.

No branch of archaeology is more interesting than the study of our stained-glass windows, which illustrate so clearly the faith, history, and customs of our ancestors. We have again to thank the fanatics of the Reformation and Cromwellian periods for the shameful destruction of so many beautiful windows. How great has been the loss to art and history caused by their reckless demolition! And in addition to this miserable violence our windows have suffered greatly from the ignorant indifference of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, which allowed priceless examples of old glass to be removed and replaced by the hideous specimens of the modern glass-painters.

In Saxon times this art found a home in England, the artifices lapidearum et vitrearum fenestrarum having been invited to this country by Wilfrid, Bishop of York, in 709. The earliest specimen of ancient glass now in existence is in the choir-aisles of Canterbury Cathedral, where it was probably fixed when the cathedral was rebuilt after the fire in 1174.

Coloured glass is of two kinds: (1) Stained glass, made by mixing metallic oxides with the glass when in a state of fusion, the colours thus going through the whole mass; (2) Painted glass, in which colouring is laid upon the white or tinted glass, and fixed by the action of fire. As the style of architecture changed, so the art of the glass-painter changed with it. In the Early English period the colours were very rich, and the designs consisted of medallions containing subjects taken from Holy Scripture, or the lives of the saints, upon grounds of ruby and blue. Mosaic patterns form the groundwork of the medallions, and a border of scrolls and foliage incloses the whole design. The outlines of the figures are formed by the lead. In the Decorated period the medallions disappear, and in their place we find single figures of large size under canopies. Instead of the mosaic backgrounds diaper-work in whole colours is used. Lights and shades are introduced in the dresses and canopies, and foliage is painted on the panes. The artists of this period first introduced heraldic devices into the windows. A border of white glass intervenes between the window and the medallion.

When the Perpendicular style was in vogue the art of the glass-painter degenerated, as did that of the architect. Stained glass was little used, and the artists painted with enamel colours their designs upon the glass. The figures were larger than before, and the canopies of great size and with much architectural detail, landscapes and buildings appearing in the background. During this period inscriptions began to be used. In the sixteenth century the progress of the art was in the same direction. Large figures, and groups of figures, fill the whole window, and the existence of mullions is disregarded in the execution of the design. Glass-painting flourished until the Civil War period, and then died out.

English churches benefited much by the work of foreign artists. The great Florentine Francesco di Lievi da Gambassi visited this country. There is a letter dated 1434, written "to the master glass-painter Gambassi, then in Scotland, and who made works in glass of various kinds, and was held to be the best glass-painter in the world." How much must we regret the destruction of the windows made by this excellent artist in Holyrood chapel and elsewhere by fanatical mobs! The Fairford windows are perhaps the finest and most interesting in England. The story runs that they were made in Germany for a church in Rome, and that the vessel conveying them was captured by an English ship; and as the noble church at Fairford was then being built, the glass was sent there and given to it. Shiplake Church, Oxfordshire, has some of the beautiful glass which once adorned the ruined church of St. Bertin at St. Omer, plundered during the French Revolution.

Some good work was accomplished in the seventeenth century by English artists, who practised enamel painting, notably by Jervais, who in 1717 executed from designs by Sir Joshua Reynolds the beautiful west window of New College Chapel, Oxford.

The floors of our churches were enriched with inlaid tiles. Various patterns and designs were impressed upon them when the clay was moist, a metallic glaze covered the surface, and then the tiles were placed in the furnace. Many designs are found on ancient tiles, such as heraldic devices, monograms, sacred symbols with texts, architectural designs, figures, and patterns. The age of the tiles may be determined by comparing the designs imprinted upon them with the architectural decorations belonging to particular periods. In the sixteenth century many Flemish tiles were brought to England, and superseded those of English manufacture.

In the Middle Ages no branch of art was neglected. Even the smith, who made the ironwork for the doors, locks, and screens, was an artist, and took pains to adapt his art to the style of architecture prevailing in his time. Norman doors are remarkable for their beautifully ornamented hinges. They have curling scrollwork, and a large branch in the form of the letter C issuing from the straight bar near the head. Early English doors have much elaborate scrollwork, with foliage and animals' heads. During the Decorated period the hinges are simpler, on account of the carved panelling on the doors, and they continue to become plainer in the subsequent period. The knockers on the doors often assume very grotesque forms, as at Durham Cathedral. The mediaeval plumber was also an artist, and introduced shields of arms, fleur-de-lis, and other devices, for the enrichment of spires, and pipes for carrying off water from the roof.



No part of the ancient decoration of our churches has suffered more than the paintings and frescoes which formerly adorned their walls. In the whole of the country there are very few of the ancient edifices which retain any traces of the numerous quaint designs and figures painted on the inner surfaces of their walls during the Middle Ages. Our ancestors used to make free use of colour for the purpose of architectural decoration, and employed several means in order to produce the effect. They sometimes used fresco, by means of which they produced pictures upon the walls covered with plaster while the plaster was wet. Sometimes they employed wall-painting, i.e. they covered the walls when the plaster was dry with some pictorial representation. The distinction between fresco and wall-painting is frequently forgotten. Most of the early specimens of this art are monochromes, but subsequently the painters used polychrome, which signifies surface colouring in which various colours are employed. The vaulted ceilings, the timber roof, the screens and canopies, the monuments with their effigies, as well as the surface of the walls, were often coloured with diaper-work. Colour and gilding were marked features in all mediaeval buildings, and even richly carved fonts and sculptural monuments were embellished with this method of decoration. The appearance of our churches in those times must have been very different from what it is now. Then a blaze of colour met the eye on entering the sacred building, the events of sacred history were brought to mind by the representations upon the walls, and many an unlearned rustic acquired some knowledge of biblical history from the contemplation of the rude figures with which his village church was adorned.

"Even the very walls of this dread place, And the tall windows, with their breathing lights, Speak to the adoring heart."

The practice of painting the walls of our churches dates as far back as Saxon times; but very few fragments of pre-Norman art remain. Of Norman work we have numerous examples, and sometimes it is found that the early specimens of the art have been painted over in later Gothic times, and ruder and larger figures have eclipsed the more careful work of previous ages. An example of this was discovered in the church of St. Lawrence, Reading, where no less than five distinct series of paintings were discovered, painted one over another.



Several circumstances have combined to obliterate these specimens of the art of former days. It was not the intention of the Reformers themselves to destroy them. They distinguished carefully between "an embossed and gilt image, and a process of a story painted with the gestures and action of many persons; and commonly the sum of the story written withal hath another use in it than one dumb idol or image standing by itself." It was left to the Puritans, impelled by fanaticism and ignorance, to make "a slanderous desolation of the places of prayer," and it is to them we owe much of the destruction of the old mural paintings. At the end of the eighteenth century there was a prejudice against these works of art; for in 1773 we find the Bishop of London refusing to allow Reynolds, West, and Barry to clothe the naked walls of St. Paul's Cathedral with pictures painted by themselves. Coated over by layers of plaster, or whitewashed until all traces were obliterated, these relics of ancient art have remained for generations, and it is only when an old church is being restored, and the coats of plaster and whitewash removed, that their presence is revealed; and then too often the colours fade away on exposure to the air.



One of the favourite subjects of mural decoration was a figure of St. Christopher with the Infant Saviour on his shoulder.[8] He usually has a staff, and strange-looking fish swim about his feet as he crosses the river; on one side there is a hermitage, with the figure of a hermit holding a lantern to guide the saint, and on the other a windmill. This figure usually was painted on the wall opposite the principal entrance, as it was deemed lucky to see St. Christopher on first entering a church. Moreover the sight of the saint was a preservative against violent death during the day, and also a preventive against drowsiness during the service, as the following verses show:—

"Christophori sancti speciem quicunque tuetur Illo namque die nullo languore tenetur."

Churchwardens' accounts record the painting of these figures—

"1503-4. It. payd to mylys paynter for payntyng of Seynt X'fer viii's iiii'd"

"1521. It. payd to John Payne for payntyng of Sent Leonard left by the wyffs onpaynted xx'd"

A curious order was issued by Edward III. for arresting painters to work in St. Stephen's Chapel at Westminster, to which artists of every description were liable to surrender as often as the king required their services.



In Saxon times Consecration crosses were painted on the interior walls, twelve in number, on the spots where the bishop marked the cross with holy oil; and sometimes twelve crosses were carved or painted on the exterior walls. During Norman times the art made progress, and there are many specimens of mural decoration of this period, which correspond with the mouldings generally used then; but not many scenes and figures were depicted. Representations of bishops, Agnus Dei, scenes from the life of our Lord, the apostles, the Last Judgment, St. George, scenes from the life of St. Nicholas, St. John writing the Apocalypse, were favourite subjects. At Copford the painter evidently tried to make the chancel figuratively to represent the glories of heaven.

During the reign of Henry III. great progress was made, and travelling monks roamed the country leaving behind them in many a village church traces of their skill in artistic decoration. The murder of St. Thomas of Canterbury now became a favourite subject, also the lives of St. Catherine of Alexandria, St. Nicholas, St. Margaret, St. Edmund, the Seven Acts of Mercy, and the wheel of fortune. In the fourteenth century the Doom was the usual decoration of the space over the chancel arch, and scenes from the New Testament, legends of saints, "moralities," etc., were depicted on the walls. In the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries the artists paid little respect to the work of their predecessors, and frequently painted new designs over the earlier mural decorations. They also adorned very beautifully the roofs and screens. The arrival of the Flemings in the eastern counties is shown by the portraying of subjects and saints not usually worshipped in England. The figures of St. George become more numerous and also of St. Christopher, who were regarded with much superstitious reverence by all classes.

The vanity of human greatness is taught by the morality, "Les Trois Rois Morts et les Trois Rois Vifs," representing three kings going gaily hunting meeting three skeletons, the remains of kings once as powerful as they. "The Dance of Death," so popular abroad, also appears in some English churches. The wholesale destruction of so many specimens of mediaeval art cannot be too strongly condemned and deplored. If any of my readers should be fortunate enough to discover any traces of colouring hidden away beneath the coats of whitewash on the walls of their church, I would venture to advise them to very carefully remove the covering, and then to consult Mr. Keyser's book on Mural Decorations, where they will find an account of the best methods for preserving these valuable specimens of early art.



In the churchyard stands the old weather-beaten yew tree, looking like a sentinel keeping watch over the graves of our forefathers. Some of these trees are remarkable for their age; the yews at Fountains Abbey, in Yorkshire, were probably in a flourishing condition so long ago as the year 1132, and some are older still. Why they were planted in churchyards it is difficult to ascertain. It has been conjectured that they were planted in so secure a spot in order that the men might provide themselves with bows, as all the bows used by the English, with which they did such execution against their enemies, were made of yew. Others contend that its green boughs were used instead of palms on Palm Sunday, or for funerals. But I think that they were regarded with veneration by our forefathers when they were still heathen, and that some religious symbolism—such as of immortality—attached to them; and that when the Christian teachers came they made use of this religious sentiment of the people, planted the Christian cross by the side of the yew, and under its shade preached lessons of true immortality, of which the heathen ideals were only corrupt legends and vain dreams.

At the entrance of the churchyard there is often a lich-gate, i.e. a corpse-gate, where the body may rest while the funeral procession is formed. Lych is the Saxon word for a dead body, from which Lich-field, "the field of dead bodies," is derived. Bray, in Berkshire, famous for its time-serving vicar, is also famous for its lich-gate, which has two rooms over it.

"God's acre" is full of holy associations, where sleep "the rude forefathers of the hamlet." There stands the village cross where the preachers stood in Saxon times and converted the people to Christianity, and there the old sundial on a graceful stone pedestal. Sometimes amid the memorials of the dead stood the parish stocks. Here in olden days fairs were held, and often markets every Sunday and holiday, and minstrels and jugglers thronged; and stringent laws were passed to prevent "improper and prohibited sports within the churchyard, as, for example, wrestling, football, handball under penalty of twopence forfeit." Here church ales were kept with much festivity, dancing, and merry-making; and here sometimes doles were distributed on the tombstones of parochial benefactors, and even bread and cheese scrambled for, according to the curious bequests of eccentric donors.

And then there are the quaint epitaphs on the gravestones, of which many have made collections. Here is one to the memory of the driver of a coach that ran from Aylesbury to London:—

"Parker, farewell! thy journey now is ended, Death has the whip-hand, and with dust is blended; Thy way-bill is examined, and I trust Thy last account may prove exact and just, When He who drives the chariot of the day, Where life is light, whose Word's the living way, Where travellers, like yourself, of every age, And every clime, have taken their last stage, The God of mercy and the God of love, Show you the road to Paradise above."

Here is another to the memory of a once famous Yorkshire actor, buried at Beverley:—

"In memory of Samuel Butler, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more. Obt. June 15th, 1812, Aet. 62."

Here is a strange one from Awliscombe, Devon:—

"Here lie the remains of James Pady, brickmaker, late of this parish, in hopes that his clay will be remoulded in a workmanlike manner, far superior to his former perishable materials.

"Keep death and judgment always in your eye, Or else the devil off with you will fly, And in his kiln with brimstone ever fry; If you neglect the narrow road to seek, Christ will reject you like a half-burnt brick."

Those interested in the brave mortals who go down to the sea in ships will like to read the following verses which appear on the tomb of William Harrison, mariner, buried in Hessle Road Cemetery, Hull:—

"Long time I ploughed the ocean wide, A life of toil I spent; But now in harbour safe arrived From care and discontent.

"My anchor's cast, my sails are furled, And now I am at rest; Of all the ports throughout the world, Sailors, this is the best."

The following original epitaph in a neighbouring churchyard compares very favourably with the flattering and fulsome inscriptions prevalent at the beginning of the nineteenth century, written in what has been called "lapidary style ":—

"He was—— But words are wanting to say what; Say what is just and kind, And he was that."

[8] At Sedgeford the Infant is portrayed with three heads, illustrating the doctrine of the Blessed Trinity.



CHAPTER XIX

CHURCH BELLS

Bell customs and village life—Antiquity of bells—Christening of bells—"Ancients"—Inscriptions—Dedications—Inscriptions of praise—Leonine verses—Curious inscriptions—Historical events recorded—Uses of bells—Passing bell—Pancake bell—Curfew—Guiding bells—Names of benefactors—Great bells—Sanctus bell—Sacring bell—Frequent ringing of bell—Change-ringing—Care of bells.

Bells play an important part in village life, and there are few more interesting branches of the study of village antiquities than bell-lore. Ringing customs throw much light upon the manners and doings of our ancestors. Bells rang to commemorate the great events in history, news of which was conveyed to the quiet village; they sounded forth the joys and sorrows of the parishioners in their generations, pealed merrily at their weddings, and mourned for them at their funerals. As the bell "Roland" of Ghent seemed endowed with a human voice, and was silenced for ever by Charles V. lest it should again rouse the citizens to arms, so these bells in our village steeples seem to speak with living tongues and tell the story of our village life.

Bells have great antiquity. Odoceus, Bishop of Llandaff, in 550 A.D., is said to have taken the bells away from his cathedral during a time of excommunication. Bede mentions them in the seventh century. In 680 Benedict, Abbot of Wearmouth, imported some from Italy, and in the tenth century St. Dunstan hung many. Ireland probably had bells in the time of St. Patrick, who died in 493, and a bell that bears his name is preserved at Belfast. The earliest Saxon bells were not cast, but were made of plates of iron riveted together, and were probably used as hand-bells.

Bells were usually christened. Those of Crowland Abbey were named Pega, Bega, Tatwin, Turketyl, Betelin, Bartholomew, and Guthlac. A fire in 1091 destroyed this peal. Those of the priory of Little Dunmow, Essex, according to an old chartulary, were new cast and baptised in 1501.

"Prima in honore Sancti Michaelis Archangeli." "Secunda in honore Sancti Johannis Evangelisti." "Tertia in honore S. Johannis Baptisti." "Quarta in honore Assumptionis beatae Mariae." "Quinta in honore Sanctae Trinitatis et omnium sanctorum."

The tenor bell at Welford, Berks, has the inscription, "Missi de celis habeo nomen Gabrielis 1596."

Bells dating from before the year 1600 are called "ancients," and it is a very pleasant discovery to find one of these in our church tower; and still more so if it be a pre-Reformation bell. Unfortunately a large number of "ancients" have been recast, owing chiefly to the craze for change-ringing which flourished in England between 1750 and 1830. The oldest bell in this country is said to be St. Chad's, Claughton, which bears the date 1296. Pre-Reformation bells are very seldom dated.

Mediaeval bells have many curious inscriptions on them, which record the name of the donor, the bell-founder, together with heraldic and other devices. The inscriptions are often written in the first person, the bell being supposed to utter the sentiment, as it sends forth its sound. A study of the inscriptions on bells is full of interest. The earliest are simple dedications of the bell to our Lord, or to some saint. The principal inscriptions of this class are: "Jesus," "Jesus Nazarenus Rex Judeorum," "Sit nomen IHC benedictum," "Sum Rosa Pulsata Mundi Maria Vocata," "Sum Virgo Sancta Maria." The invocation, "Ora pro nobis," very frequently is inscribed on bells, followed by the name of some saint, and almost every saint in the Calendar is duly honoured in some bell inscription.

Bells were always rung on joyful occasions; hence inscriptions expressing thankfulness and praise were appropriate. Consequently we find such words as "Laus et Gloria Deo," "Laus Deo Gratia Benefactoribus," "Alleluja," "Praise God," and other similar inscriptions of praise.

Some old bells have Latin hexameter verses inscribed on them, composed by monks, which are called Leonine verses, from one Leoninus, a monk of Marseilles, who lived in the early part of the twelfth century. A few examples of these will suffice:—

"Est michi collatum ihc illud nomen amaetum." "Protege Virgo pia quos convoco Sancta Maria." "Voce mea viva depello cunta nocina."

This refers to the belief that the ringing of bells drives away all demons and tempests, storms and thunders, and all other hurtful things. One bell proudly asserts:—

"Me melior vere non est campana sub ere."

Inscriptions in English are often quaint and curious. Here is one from Somerset:—

"My treble voice Makes hearts rejoice."

Another self-complacent bell asserts—

"If you have a judicious ear, You'll own my voice is sweet and clear."

Loyal inscriptions are often found, such as—

"For Church and King We always ring."

"I was made in hope to ring At the crownacion of our King."

"Ye people all that hear me ring Be faithful to your God and King."

A bell that has been recast sometimes praises the merits of its new founder at the expense of its first maker, as at Badgworth, Gloucester:—

"Badgworth ringers they are mad, Because Rigbe made me bad; But Abel Rudhall you may see Hath made me better than Rigbe."

Sometimes all the bells which compose a peal tell their various uses. Thus at Bakewell we find some verses on each bell:—

1. "When I begin our merry Din This Band I lead from discord free; And for the fame of human name, May every Leader copy Me."

2. "Mankind, like us, too oft are found Possess'd of nought but empty sound."

3. "When of departed Hours we toll the knell, Instruction take and spend the future well."

4. "When men in Hymen's Bands unite, Our merry peals produce delight; But when Death goes his dreary Rounds, We send forth sad and solemn sounds."

5. "Thro' grandsires and Tripples with pleasure men range, Till Death calls the Bob and brings on the Last Change."

6. "When Vict'ry crowns the Public Weal With Glee we give the merry Peal."

7. "Would men like us join and agree They'd live in tuneful Harmony."

8. "Possess'd of deep sonorous Tone This Belfry King sits on his throne; And when the merry Bells go round, Adds to and mellows ev'ry Sound; So in a just and well pois'd State, Where all Degrees possess due Weight, One greater Pow'r one greater Tone Is ceded to improve their own."

A Rutland bell has the following beautiful inscription:—

"Non clamor sed amor cantat in aure Dei." ("Not noise but love sings in the ear of God.")

Historical events are sometimes recorded, as at Ashover, Derbyshire, where a recasted bell states:—

"This old bell rung the downfall of Buonaparte and broke, April 1814."

The uses of bells are often shown by their inscriptions. People were aroused by their sound each morning in many places, as at St. Ives, where a bell is inscribed—

"Arise and go about your business."

The villagers were summoned to extinguish fires by ringing of bells. Thus Sherborne, Dorset, has a bell inscribed—

"Lord, quench this furious flame: Arise, run, help put out the same."

Bell-ringing customs are very numerous.[9] The passing bell has many variants. In some places three times three strokes are sounded for a man, three times two for a woman, and three times one for a child. Out of the first-named of these practices probably arose the phrase, "Nine tailors make a man," which is usually explained as more properly signifying "nine tellers make a man." Then we have a pancake bell, which formerly summoned people to confession, and not to eat pancakes; a gleaning bell, an eight hours' bell rung at 4 a.m., noon, and 8 p.m. The curfew bell survives in many places, which, as everyone knows, was in use long before William the Conqueror issued his edict. Peals are rung on "Oak Apple Day," and on Guy Fawkes' Day, "loud enough to call up poor Guy." Church bells played a useful part in guiding the people homewards on dark winter evenings in the days when lands were uninclosed and forests and wild moors abounded, and charitable folk, like Richard Palmer, of Wokingham, left bequests to pay the sexton for his labour in ringing at suitable times when the sound of the bells might be of service to belated travellers. Names of benefactors often find a permanent memorial on the bells which they gave; as at Binstead, Hants, where a bell has the inscription—

"Doctor Nicholas gave five pound To help cast this peal tuneable and sound."

And another bell in the same tower records the name of our famous Berkshire bell-founders, the Knight family. The inscription runs:—

"Samuel Knight made this ring In Binstead steeple for to ding."



The story of our great bells, of "Great Toms," "Big Bens," "Great Peters," need not be told here. They wake the echoes of our great cities, and are not heard among the hills and dales of rural England. Outside the church at the apex of the gable over the chancel arch there is sometimes a small bell-cote, wherein the sanctus or saunce bell once hung. This was rung during the service of High Mass when the Ter Sanctus was sung, in order that those who were engaged at their work might know when the canon of the Mass was about to begin, in order that they might kneel at the sound and pray to God. At Bosham Harbour the fishermen used to so join in the service of the sanctuary, and it is said that when George Herbert's sanctus bell sounded for prayers, the ploughmen stopped from their work for a few moments and prayed. The sanctus bell differed from the sacring bell, which was a hand-bell rung inside the church at the elevation of the Host.

Old churchwardens' accounts record the very frequent ringing of bells. In addition to the Great Festivals, Corpus Christi Day, Church feasts and ales, the occasions of royal visits, of episcopal visitations, victories, and many other great events, were always celebrated by the ringing of the church bells. In fact by the fondness of English folk for sounding their bells this country earned the title in the Middle Ages of "the ringing island." Peal-ringing was indeed peculiar to England. It was not until the seventeenth century that change-ringing became general, and our old bells suffered much at the hands of the followers of the new fashion.

In recent years the study of our church bells has made great progress, and many volumes have been written upon the bells of various counties. Too long have our bells been left to the bats and birds, and the belfry is often the only portion of a church which is left uncared for. We are learning better now, and the bells which have sounded forth the joys and sorrows of our villagers for so many generations are receiving the attention they deserve.

[9] A collection of these will be found in my book on Old English Customs Extant at the Present Time.



CHAPTER XX

THE MEDIAEVAL VILLAGE

Local government—Changes in the condition of villeins and labourers— Famine and pestilence—Effects of the Great Plague—Spirit of independence—Picture of village life—Church house—Church ales— Pilgrimages—Markets—Old English fair—Wars—Hastings—Hereward the Wake—Great Civil War—Restoration—Beacons.

Let us try to imagine the ordinary life and appearance of a mediaeval English village in the "piping times of peace." Of course, no two villages are quite alike; each has many distinguishing features; but a strong family likeness is observable. In the Middle Ages a village was much more independent than it is now. Then there were no Acts of Parliament to control its affairs, and it regulated its own conduct much to its own satisfaction, without any outside interference. Of course, sometimes things were managed badly; but the village knew it had only itself to blame, and therefore could not grumble at the Government, or the fickleness of members of Parliament, or the unreasonable conduct of Local Government Boards. Was not the lord of the manor quite capable of trying all criminals? and did not the rector and the vestry settle everything to the satisfaction of everyone, without any "foreigners" asking questions, or interfering?

The position of the villeins and cottiers has changed considerably since the days of William the Norman. The former were now free tenants, who paid rent for their land to the lord of the manor, and were not bound to work for him, while the latter worked for wages like our modern agricultural labourer. There was thus in the twelfth century a gradual approximation to modern conditions on many estates; the home farm was worked by hired labourers who received wages; while the villeins had bought themselves off from the obligation of doing customary work by paying a quit-rent.

We should like to know something of the way in which our ancestors farmed their land, and fortunately several bailiffs have left us their account books very carefully kept, and one Walter de Henley in 1250 wrote a book on the Art of Husbandry, which gives us much information. The rent of land was about sixpence per acre. They ploughed three times a year, in autumn, April, and at midsummer, and used oxen for their plough-teams. Women helped their husbands in ploughing and harvest work. An old writer describes the farmer's wife "walking by him with a long goad, in a cutted cote cutted full high." Pigs and poultry were numerous on a mediaeval farm, but sheep were the source of the farmer's wealth. Large flocks of divers breeds roamed the hills and vales of rural England, and their rich fleeces were sent to Antwerp, Bruges, and Ghent for the manufacture of cloth by the Flemish weavers. After the Black Death, a great plague which ravaged the country in 1348, the labourers were fewer in number, and their wages higher; hence the farmers paid increased attention to their sheep, which yielded rich profits, and required few labourers to look after them.

Prior to the advent of this grim visitor, the Great Plague, the prosperity of our villages had greatly increased. The people were better fed and better clothed than any of their neighbours on the Continent. Moreover they were free men, and enjoyed their freedom. There was much happiness in our English villages in those days, and "Merry England" was not a misnomer. There were, however, two causes of suffering which for a time produced untold wretchedness—two unwelcome visitors who came very frequently and were much dreaded—famine and pestilence. There is necessarily a sameness in the records of these pestilences.

The chief famine years were 1315 and 1316, but there is hardly any period of five years from the death of Edward I. to the coming of Henry of Richmond without these ghastly records of the sufferings of the people. Disease not only arrested the growth of the population, but reduced it considerably. It was mostly of a typhoid nature. The undrained soil, the shallow stagnant waters which lay upon the surface of the ground, the narrow and unhealthy homes, the filthy and neglected streets of the towns, the excessive use of salted provisions and absence of vegetables, predisposed the people to typhoid diseases, and left them little chance of recovery when stricken down with pestilence.

The Great Plague arrived in England in 1348 from the shores of Italy, whither it had been wafted from the East. It was probably carried to the port of Bristol by travelling merchants, whence it spread with alarming rapidity over the whole land. Whole villages were depopulated, and about one-third of the people of England perished. It is difficult for us to imagine the sorrow and universal suffering which the plague caused. Its effects were, however, beneficial to the villagers who survived. Naturally labourers became very scarce and were much sought after. Wages rose enormously. The tenants and rustics discovered that they were people of importance. Manor lords found it too expensive to farm their lands, and were eager to hand them over to their tenants, many of whom became much richer and more independent than formerly. The spirit of independence pervaded all classes. There came to our village many wandering friars, followers of Wiklif, who preached discontent to the labouring rustics, told them that the gentry had no right to lord it over them, that they were as good as their masters, who ought not to live in fine houses in luxury supported by their toil and the sweat of their brows. And when oppressive taxes were levied, the rustics revolted, and gained much for which they strove. The golden age of the English labourer set in, when food was cheap, wages high, and labour abundant. A fat pig could be bought for fourpence, and three pounds of beef for a penny; and in spite of occasional visits of the plague, the villager's lot was by no means unhappy.

Here is a picture of village life in those days. The village church stood in the centre of the hamlet, with a carefully made fence around it, in order that no swine or foul beast might desecrate the graves. Surrounded by the churchyard, with its yew tree and lich-gate, the church was very similar to the old building wherein the villagers still worship. All the houses had thatched roofs, and chief among the other dwellings stood the lord's hall. Near the church was a curious building called the church house, which has almost entirely passed away, except in the records of old churchwardens' accounts. It was a large building, in which could be stored wool, lime, timber, sand, etc., and was often let to pedlars, or wandering merchants, to deposit their goods during the fair.

In this building there was a long low room with a large fireplace and hearth, around which a dozen or more could sit in comfort, except when the wind blew the smoke down the wide, open chimney; but our ancestors were accustomed to smoky chimneys, and did not mind them. In the centre of the room was a large oak table. This was the scene of some very festive gatherings. Aubrey thus describes the church house:—

"In every parish was a church house, to which belonged spits, crocks, and other utensils for dressing provisions. Here the housekeepers met. The young people were there too, and had dancing, bowling, shooting at butts, etc., the ancients [i.e. old folks] sitting gravely by, and looking on."

The churchwardens bought, and received presents of, a large quantity of malt, which they brewed into beer and sold to the company. Hence these feasts were called "church ales," and were held on the feast of the dedication of the church, the proceeds being devoted to the maintenance of the poor. Sometimes they were held at Whitsuntide also, sometimes four times a year, and sometimes as often as money was wanted or a feast desired. An arbour of boughs was erected in the churchyard on these occasions called Robin Hood's Bower, where the maidens collected money for the "ales," and "all went merry as a marriage bell"—rather too merry sometimes, for the ale was strong and the villagers liked it, and the ballad-singer was so merry, and the company so hearty—and was it not all for a good cause, the support of the poor? The character of these festivals deteriorated so much, until at last "church ales" were prohibited altogether, on account of the excess to which they gave rise.



There was a large amount of gaiety in the old villages in those days. Men were not in so great a hurry to grow rich as they are now. The Church authorised many holidays in the course of the year; and what with May Day festivities, Plough Mondays, Hocktide and Shrovetide sports, harvest suppers, fairs, and "ales," the villagers had plenty of amusement, and their lives certainly could not be described as dull. Sometimes the village would be enlivened by the presence of a company of pilgrims on their way to the shrine of St. Thomas at Canterbury, or to Holywell, blessed by St. Winifred, in order to be cured of some disease. Although these pilgrims were deemed to be engaged on a religious duty, they certainly were not generally very serious or sad. Chaucer describes a very joyous pilgrimage in his Canterbury Tales, how the company met at the Tabard Inn, in Southwark, including the knight and the abbot, the prioress and the shipman, the squire and the merchant, the ploughman and sompnour (or summoner, "of whose visage children were sore afeard"), and rode forth gaily in the spring sunshine—

"The holy blissful martyr for to seek, That them hath holpen when that they were sick."

Pilgrim crosses are numerous all over England, where the pilgrims halted for their devotions by the way, and sometimes we find churches planted on the roadside far from human habitations, with no parishioners near them; and some people wonder why they were so built. These were pilgrim churches, built for the convenience of the travellers as they wended their way to Canterbury. The villages through which they passed must have been much enlivened by the presence of these not very austere companies.

The ordinary lives of the farmers were diversified by the visits to the weekly markets held in the neighbouring town, where they took their fat capons, eggs, butter, and cheese. Here is a curious relic of olden times, an ancient market proclamation, which breathes the spirit of former days, and which was read a few years ago at Broughton-in-Furness, by the steward of the lord of the manor, from the steps of the old market cross. These are the words:—

"O yes, O yes, O yes![10] The lord of the manor of Broughton and of this fair and market strictly chargeth and commandeth on Her Majesty's behalf, that all manners of persons repairing to this fair and market do keep Her Majesty's peace, upon pain of five pounds to be forfeited to Her Majesty, and their bodies to be imprisoned during the lord's pleasure. Also that no manner of person within this fair and market do bear any bill, battle-axe, or other prohibited weapons, but such as be appointed by the lord's officers to keep this fair or market, upon pain of forfeiture of all such weapons and further imprisonment. Also, that no manner of person do pick any quarrel, matter, or cause for any old grudge or malice to make any perturbation or trouble, upon pain of five pounds, to be forfeited to the lord, and their bodies to be imprisoned. Also, that none buy or sell in corners, back sides, or hidden places, but in open fair or market, upon pain of forfeiture of all such goods and merchandise so bought and sold, and their bodies to imprisonment. Also, that no manner of persons shall sell any goods with unlawful mete or measures, yards or weights, but such as be lawful and keep the true assize, upon pain of forfeiture of all such goods and further imprisonment. Lastly, if any manner of persons do here find themselves grieved, or have any injuries or wrong committed or done against them, let them repair to the lord or his officers, and there they shall be heard according to right, equity, and justice. God save the Queen and the lord of the manor!"

And besides the weekly markets there were the great annual fairs, which lasted many days, and were frequented by all classes of the population. These fairs were absolutely necessary for the trade of the country in the days when few people travelled far from their own homesteads, and even the towns with their small number of inhabitants did not afford a sufficient market for the farmer's and trader's stock.

The greatest of all English fairs was held in the little village of Stourbridge, near Cambridge, now almost absorbed by the University town. Hither flocked merchants and traders from all parts of Europe. Flemish merchants brought their fine linen and cloths from the great commercial cities of Belgium. Genoese and Venetian traders came with their stores of Eastern goods. Spaniards and Frenchmen brought their wines, and the merchants of the Hanse towns of Germany sold furs and flax, ornaments and spices, while in return for all these treasures our English farmers brought the rich fleeces of their sheep, their corn, horses, and cattle. The booths were planted in a cornfield, and the circuit of the fair, which was like a well-governed city, was over three miles. The shops were built in streets or rows, some named after the various nations that congregated there, and others after the kind of goods offered for sale. There were Garlick Row, Bookseller's Row, Cook Row; there were a cheese fair, a hop fair, a wool fair, and every trade was represented, together with taverns, eating-houses, and in later years playhouses of various descriptions. In the eighteenth century one hundred thousand pounds' worth of woollen manufactures was sold in a week in one row alone. A thousand pack-horses were used to convey the goods of the Lancashire merchants to this famous fair. Now railways have supplanted the pack-horses; fairs have had their day; the trade of the country can now be carried on without them; and their relics with their shows and shooting-galleries and steam roundabouts have become a nuisance.

The peaceful life of the villagers was sometimes disturbed by the sounds and sights of conflict. The exciting tales of war are connected with the history of many an English village, and many "little Wilhelmines" and labouring "grandsires" have discovered "something large and round," traces of these ancient conflicts and "famous victories."

"For often when they go to plough The ploughshare turns them out, 'And many thousand men,' quoth he, 'Were slain in that great victory.'"

Many a lance and sword, and gilt spur, beautifully enamelled, which once decked the heel of a noble knight, have been found in our fields, and remind us of those battles which were fought so long ago.

"The knights are dust, Their good swords rust, Their souls are with the saints, we trust."

Sometimes the spectres of armed knights and warriors are supposed to haunt these scenes of ancient slaughter, and popular superstition has handed down the memory of the battles which were fought so long ago. It tells us of the mythical records of the fights of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table by the banks of the River Douglas, which ran with blood for three days, so terrible was the slaughter. It tells us how stubbornly the Britons resisted the Roman armies, so that on one occasion not one Briton was left to tell the tale of their defeat.

When we visit the site of some battle with the history book in our hand, it is possible to imagine the lonely hillside peopled again with the dense ranks of English archers, or hear the clanging of the armour as the men-at-arms charged for "St. George and merry England"; and the air will be full again of the battle-cries, of the groans of the wounded and the shouts of the victors.

Visit the scene of the battle of Hastings. Here on the high ground, flanked by a wood, stood the brave English, under the leadership of Harold, with his banner, woven with gold and jewels, shining conspicuously in the morning sunlight. Here they stood in the form of a wedge; there they turned the Normans, and put them to flight. Then the Normans rallied, pretended to fly, decoyed the brave English from their position, and by stratagem succeeded in defeating them at last. Or go to the Madingley Windmill, near Cambridge, and see the fifteen miles of rich drained cornfields which intervene between "Ely's stately fane" and the spot on which you are standing. Here read Kingsley's well-known story of Hereward; or, The Last of the English, and instead of the rich cornfields you will see that black abyss of mud and bottomless slime into which sank the flower of Norman chivalry as they tried to cross that treacherous bog to conquer the gallant Hereward and to plunder the monastery of Ely, the last stronghold of the English. On they came, thousands upon thousands, rushing along the floating bridge which they had formed, until at last it gave way beneath the weight, and the black slime swallowed up the miserable wretches.

Or let us take our stand on the Round Tower, near the summit of the Edge Hill, and see the site of the first battle between the troops of Charles I. and the soldiers of the Parliament. The whole of that green lane was lined with troops. In a cottage which stood at our feet the king breakfasted before the battle; from that mound he surveyed the forces of the enemy. Just as the bells in yonder church had ceased to ring for service on Sunday afternoon the cannon began to roar, and the fight commenced. There Prince Rupert charged with headlong fury, carrying all before him. And so we can follow the fortunes of the fight until the brave Cavaliers retired to rest—

"And thousands had sunk on the ground overpowered The weary to sleep, and the wounded to die."

The memory of many a fight is recorded in the names of the fields, places, and hills on which the battle raged. Lichfield (i.e. the field of the dead), Battlefield, Battle, Battleflats, Standard Hill, Slaughterford, and many others, all tell the tale of war and slaughter.

In some parts of the country, especially in Oxfordshire, there are fine avenues of trees, which appear to lead to a large house; but when you have walked to the end of the trees there is nothing to be seen. These avenues tell the tale of war, of the destruction of the manor-house of some old Royalist who fought for his king when the "Roundheads" and Cromwell's "Ironsides" were more than a match for the gallant Cavaliers. His house was destroyed, he and his sons killed, unless they were fortunate enough to escape to France and wait the merry time "when the king should enjoy his own again." How many of our uplands and gentle vales have been stained with blood, and seen the terrible horrors of war, of which we in these favoured days know nothing from our own experience! We read about the sad battles and sieges which have taken place in other countries, but can hardly imagine the time when hostile soldiers were riding through our village lanes, and the noise of the cannon was booming in the distance, as on that famous Sunday morning in October, 1642, when Richard Baxter was disturbed in his preaching at Alcester by that strange sound, and knew that the terrible conflict had begun between the king and Parliament. Our English villages suffered very much. All farming was stopped, manor-houses destroyed, some of the best blood in England spilt, and many a home made desolate. Indeed, in some parts of the country the people had literally no bread to eat, and no clothing to cover their nakedness; and Cromwell ordered collections to be made in London for the relief of the distressed people in Lancashire. Then the old clergyman was driven from his flock, and some commissioner appointed who wrote in the register-books of the parish the names of the children who were born, but did not record their baptism as the clergyman did. And then some black-gowned Puritan, with his hair cut short, came and took possession of the living, and preached very long sermons about Cromwell "girding his sword upon his thigh," and about blinded Papists, and about Mahershalal-hash-baz, who made haste to divide the spoil.