But in the glorious year 1660 everyone began to throw up his cap and welcome right royally the king from over the water; and the long-faced Puritan disappeared, and the writing in the register-books changed into that of a scholarly hand; and many of our churches were enriched by thankofferings of plate and other gifts, because the good people of England rejoiced exceedingly that their loved Church and her services were restored to them; and "the king at last enjoyed his own again." The memory of the adventures of King Charles II., when he was endeavouring to escape from England after the last crushing defeat of the royal troops at Worcester, called by Cromwell "the crowning mercy," still lingers in many of the country villages through which the unfortunate monarch passed. The king and a few faithful followers avoided the towns, passed the ford of the Salwarp at Hemford Mill, and proceeded by Chester Lane to Broadwaters and Kinfare Heath. Presently they reached Brewood Forest, where there stood two old hunting-lodges, built by the Giffards in troublous times as hiding-places for proscribed Papists. They were called White Ladies and Boscobel, and were inhabited by staunch Royalists named Penderel; so the king knew he would be safe there. He was disguised as a forester with leathern jerkin and trunk hose, his long hair cropped, and his hands blackened. All day he lay concealed in a coppice, and in the evening, under the name of Will Jackson, he supped with the Penderels, and then tried to cross the Severn, but all the fords and bridges were guarded. The next day he and Colonel Carlos remained concealed in a large oak near Boscobel, and the memory of Royal Oak day is still preserved. He had other narrow escapes, and was saved by Mistress Jane Lane, the beautiful daughter of Colonel Lane. A pass had been obtained for her and her groom to go to Abbot's Leigh, near Bristol. The plan was arranged that the king should act as groom; so Charles mounted his horse, and Mistress Lane sat behind him on a pillion, and together they rode through Warwickshire to Bristol. The king was nearly captured at Long Marston, for some troopers of Cromwell suspected the party, and came to examine the house where they rested. The cook, however, set Charles to wind up the jack, and because he was awkward struck him with the basting-ladle just as the soldiers entered the kitchen. Their suspicions were thus removed; and in this old house the remains of the jack are still preserved. The poor king was disappointed of his ship; the skipper unfortunately told his wife that he was going to take the king to France, and she was angry, and locked him up in his room, so that he could not fulfil his engagement. At last Lord Wilmot procured a ship for the fugitive king, who set sail joyfully from Shoreham, near Brighton, and reached Paris in safety. There must have been great excitement in the villages of England when the troopers were scouring the country in all directions, and the unfortunate king was known to be wandering about disguised as a servant.

If there are any hills or high ground in your neighbourhood commanding an extensive view of the country, it is probable that in olden days a beacon was placed there, so that the country might be aroused in case of an invasion, and frequently we find that the tower of a church was used as a beacon, and occasionally the iron brazier remains, as at Little Budworth, Cheshire. When the Spaniards determined to invade England in the reign of "Good Queen Bess," and sent the Invincible Armada, consisting of an enormous number of ships and men and guns, bonfires were placed on every hill; and when a gallant merchant vessel brought the news that the Spaniards were coming, the bonfires were lighted, and everyone prepared to resist their attack. Macaulay has told us in very stirring verse of how the news spread, as each fire was lighted,

"From Eddystone to Berwick bounds, from Lynn to Milford Bay";

how Beachy Head caught the signal from St. Michael's Mount, and sent it swiftly over the country from tower to hill-top,

"Till Skiddaw saw the fire that burned on Gaunt's embattled pile, And the red glare of Skiddaw roused the burghers of Carlisle."

Again, within the memory of the old inhabitants of your village, the hill beacons were brought into use when Napoleon I. threatened to invade England; and on January 31, 1803, by some mistake, the fire on Hume Castle, in Berwickshire, was lighted; other beacons responded, and ere morning dawned thousands were marching ankle-deep through the dense mud of the winter roads to their appointed stations. The mistake was not without its uses, as Napoleon saw that England was ready, and did not venture to attack our shores. A similar accident took place in the reign of Henry VIII. There was a conspiracy against the king by the Roman Catholics, who did not like their monasteries being destroyed, called "The Pilgrimage of Grace." Beacons were erected on the heights of Pendel, in Lancashire, and on the various hills of Yorkshire and Derbyshire; but the beacon on Pendel was fired before the conspirators were quite ready for action, and their plot came to nothing.

Once again in the history of our country were these beacon fires lighted; but it was not to announce the approach of an enemy, but to reflect the gladness of the nation which for so many years had enjoyed the reign of so good a ruler as Queen Victoria, who has now passed away from us, and whom the whole nation mourns. And as we witnessed the sudden blaze of the beacons we thought, perhaps, of other occasions when they were used, and were thankful that rejoicings and thanksgivings were the cause, and not invasions or conspiracies.

[10] This is a corruption of the old Norman-French word oyez, "hear ye."



CHAPTER XXI

VILLAGE SPORTS AND PASTIMES

Decay of old sports—Twelfth Night—Shrovetide—Mothering Sunday— Hocktide—May Day—Miracle plays—St. John's Day—Rush-bearing—Beating the bounds—Archery—Quintain—Football—Christmas games—Stocks— Cucking-stool.

It is the custom of some writers to represent the lot of an English villager in past ages as having been particularly hard and disagreeable; to enlarge upon the scanty wages which he received; and to compare his position unfavourably with that of the agricultural labourer of the present day. I have already pointed out that the small wages which he received are no test of his poverty, because he received so much more in lieu of wages; and certainly he had far more opportunities of enjoyment and recreation than the present generation has. Now we have scarcely any village games or sports, except when some energetic rector or curate starts a cricket club. Old social customs, which added such diversity to the lives of the rustics two centuries ago, have died out. The village green, the source of so much innocent happiness, is no more; and a recent writer has observed that the ordinary existence of agricultural labourers is so dull that in East Anglia they have almost forgotten how to laugh!

We will now try to realise how our village forefathers used to enjoy themselves, how they used to spend their holidays, and to picture to ourselves the scenes of happy social intercourse which once took place in our own hamlet. Every season of the year had its holiday customs and quaint manner of observance, some of them confined to particular counties, but many of them universally observed.

On the eve of Twelfth Night, January 5th, we see the good farmer and his labourers in Devonshire joining hands round his apple trees, and singing—

"Here's to thee, old apple tree! Hence thou mayst bud, and whence thou mayst blow! And whence thou mayst bear apples enow! Hats full! caps full! Bushel, bushel, sacks full, And my pockets full too! Huzza!"

A hearty supper followed, and with laughter, songs, and good wishes to the farmer and his wife, the company passed a very joyous evening. In Herefordshire, Yorkshire, and other parts of England similar customs prevailed.



Then followed Twelfth Night, which was celebrated by great rejoicings and merry-makings, a game called the choosing of kings and queens being played, and Twelfth Night cakes consumed in plenty. The next Monday was called Plough Monday, when the labourers used to draw a plough round the parish and receive presents of money, favouring the spectators with sword-dancing and mumming, preparatory to beginning to plough after the Christmas holidays. The men were decked out with gay ribbons, and were accompanied by morris-dancers. The Christmas holidays lasted these twelve days, and during them it was customary for the gentlemen to feast the farmers, and for the farmers to feast their labourers. Then came the Shrovetide festivities, on Shrove Tuesday, when pancakes, football, and cock-fighting, and a still more barbarous custom of throwing sticks at hens, were generally in vogue. On Mid-Lent Sunday, commonly called "Mothering Sunday," it was the pleasing custom for servants and apprentices to carry cakes or furmity as presents to their mother, and to receive from her a cake with her blessing. This was called "going a-mothering." The old poet Herrick alludes to the custom in Gloucestershire in these words:—

"I'll to thee a simnell bring, 'Gainst thou go'st a-mothering; So that when she blesseth thee, Half that blessing thou'lt give me."

Then came the diversions of Hocktide, on the second Monday and Tuesday after Easter, when the men and women intercepted the public on alternate days with ropes, and boldly exacted money for pious purposes. There was a Hocktide play, which was acted before Queen Elizabeth, and caused her much amusement. She gave the players two bucks and five marks of money, which delighted them exceedingly.

Very shortly afterwards the great rural festival of our forefathers took place, the glad May Day, when, in the early dawn, the lads and lassies left their towns and villages, and going into the woods to the sound of music, gathered the may or blossomed branches of the tree, and bound them with wreaths of flowers. At sunrise they returned, and decorated the lattices and doors with the sweet-smelling spoil of their joyous journey, and spent the rest of the day in sports and pastimes, and dancing round the Maypole. The setting-up of the May-pole was a very joyous ceremony. A long string of oxen, gaily decked with flowers, drew to the village green the time-honoured pole, decked with streamers, flowers, and flags, where it was raised amidst laughter and shouts; and the Queen of the May was enthroned in an arbour and all danced round; and the morris-dancers, Robin Hood, Friar Tuck, and Maid Marian performed wonderful antics as they led the revels. Targets were set up at the other end of the green, and archery formed an important part of the day's pleasures. The preachers at the time of the Reformation thought the people made an idol of the Maypole, and condemned the innocent amusements, which were revived again when Charles II. came to the throne. After May Day our villagers had not long to wait until the Whitsuntide holiday came round—

"A day of jubilee, An ancient holiday; When, lo! the rural revels are begun, And gaily echoing to the laughing sky, On the smooth-shaven green, Resounds the voice of mirth."

I have already given a description of these Whitsuntide rejoicings in a preceding chapter.

Then there were the miracle plays, or "mysteries," as they were called, in June, on Corpus Christi Day, which were performed before the Reformation, principally in the neighbourhood of large monasteries; Coventry, Chester, London, York being specially renowned for these performances. The subjects were taken from Holy Scripture, or from the lives of saints, and were intended to teach the people religious knowledge, but the scenes were disfigured by many absurdities and grotesque perversions. Their history is a curious one, too long to enter upon in this chapter; but often in the open fields, at the bottom of natural amphitheatres, were these plays performed, very similar in construction to the famous passion play performed by the peasants, at Ober Ammergau, in Bavaria, the last surviving specimen of the ancient religious drama.

Then there were the bonfires to be lighted on St. John's Day upon the hillsides, and the dance of the young people around them, the more venturesome youths leaping through the flames, all carrying home the firebrands and forming a glad procession. Afterwards followed the busy harvest-time, when everyone was too hard at work, and too tired at the end of the day's labours, to think of holiday-making; but at length came the harvest home, when the last sheaf was gathered in, and the harvest supper was a very joyous occasion. With light hearts, smiling faces, and cheerful shouts, the harvest labourers and their wives and children, carrying green boughs, a sheaf of wheat, and rude flags, formed a glad procession to the farmer's house, where they found the fuelled chimney blazing wide, and "the strong table groaning beneath the smoking sirloin." The feast over, they retired to some near hillock, and made the welkin ring with their shouts, "Holla, holla, holla, largess!"—largess being the presents of money and good things which the farmer had bestowed. Such was the harvest home in the good old days, a joy and delight to both old and young. Shorn of much of its merriment and quaint customs, it still lingers on; but modern habits and notions have deprived it of much of its old spirit and light-heartedness.

The floors of the old churches were formerly unpaved and unbearded, simply made of clay, and were covered over with rushes. Once a year there was a great ceremony, called "rush-bearing." Rushes were cut in the neighbouring marsh, and made up into long bundles, decked with ribands and flowers. Then a procession was formed, everyone bearing a bundle of rushes, or placing them in the rush-cart beautifully adorned; and with music, drums, and ringing of bells, they marched to the church and strewed the floor with their honoured burdens. Long after the rushes ceased to be used in church the ceremony was continued, and I have myself witnessed a rush-bearing procession such as I have described. A village feast, followed by dancing round the May-pole, generally formed the conclusion to the day's festivities.

"Beating the bounds" of the parish was another annual ceremony, which often took place on Ascension Day and is still in use at Oxford. Boundaries of property were not so clearly defined in those days as they are now; and hedgerows, walls, and railings were scarce. The bounds of the parish were often marked by trees, called "gospel trees," because the clergyman used to read the gospel for the day under their shade. The people carried a processional cross and willow wands, and boys were generally flogged at the boundaries, or ducked in the river, if that constituted a boundary, in order to impress upon their memories where the bounds were. The village feast afterwards made some amends to them for their harsh treatment.

The village sports were a great source of enjoyment, and were frequently indulged in. The time-honoured archery developed the skill of our English bowmen, and won for them many a battle before the days of gunpowder and cannons. Then there was the very ancient game of the quintain, which consisted of an upright post with a cross-post turning upon a pin. At one end of the latter was a broad board, at the other a heavy sand-bag. The play, which required skill and dexterity, was to ride against the broad end with a lance, and pass by before the sandbag, swinging round, could strike the player to the ground. This was a common sport at wedding festivities. There were also the games of singlestick, cudgelling, and wrestling, which had many votaries, and the famous game of quarter-staff, so general in Berkshire, and so graphically described in The Scouring of the White Horse, by Mr. Hughes. An old parishioner of mine was the reputed champion of this game, which has now almost died out. Football is an ancient sport, and the manner formerly in vogue most nearly resembles the game authorised by the Rugby rules. The football was thrown down in the churchyard, and the object was to carry it perhaps two or three miles, every inch of ground being keenly contested. "Touch-downs" were then unknown, but it is evident from old records that "scrimmages" and "hacking" were much in vogue. Sack-racing, grinning through horse-collars, running after pigs with greased tails, were some of the lighter forms of amusement which pleased the villagers.

Then in the winter evenings there were "carols" to be practised for Christmas, and each village boasted of its own musicians, who played violins, flutes, clarionets, and other instruments in church, before the days of harmoniums and organs. Their music might not be of a very first-rate order, but they delighted in it, took an interest in it; and how pleased they were to take part in the service, and to play over their favourite hymn tunes, with a great many twirls and variations, to their children during the winter evenings! Christmas brought its accustomed merry-makings. In the north every farmer gave two feasts, one called "t' ould foaks' neet," and the other "t' young foaks' neet." Here is Sir Walter Scott's description of an ancient Christmas:—

"And well our Christian sires of old Loved when the year its course had roll'd And brought blithe Christmas back again, With all its hospitable train. Domestic and religious rite Gave honour to the holy night: On Christmas Eve the bells were rung; On Christmas Eve the Mass was sung; That only night in all the year Saw the staled priest the chalice rear. The damsel donn'd her kirtle sheen; The hall was dressed with holly green; Forth to the wood did merry men go, To gather in the mistletoe. Then open wide the baron's hall, To vassal, tenant, serf, and all; Power laid his rod of rule aside, And Ceremony doft'd his pride. The heir with roses in his shoes, That night might village partner choose; The lord, underogating, share The vulgar game of 'post and pair.' All hailed with uncontrolled delight The general voice, the happy night, That to the cottage, as the crown, Brought tidings of salvation down.

"The fire, with well-dried logs supplied, Went roaring up the chimney wide; The huge hall-table's oaken face Scrubb'd till it shone, the day of grace, Bore then upon its massive board No mark to part the squire and lord. Then was brought in the lusty brawn, By old blue-coated serving man; Then the grim boar's head frowned on high Crested with bays and rosemary. Well can the green-garb'd ranger tell How, when, and where the monster fell; What dogs before his death he tore, And all the baiting of the boar; While round the merry wassail bowl, Garnished with ribbons, blithe did trowl. Then the huge sirloin reek'd: hard by Plum-porridge stood, and Christmas pie; Nor fail'd old Scotland to produce At such high time her savoury goose. Then came the merry maskers in, And carols roared with blithesome din; If unmelodious was the song, It was a hearty note, and strong. Who lists may in this mumming see Traces of ancient mystery; White shirts supply the masquerade, And smutted cheeks the visor made; But, oh! what masquers, richly dight, Can boast of bosoms half so light! England was merry England when Old Christmas brought his sports again. 'Twas Christmas broach'd the mightiest ale; 'Twas Christmas told the merriest tale. A Christmas gambol oft would cheer A poor man's heart through half the year."

Such was the manner of keeping Christmas in olden times; and if "the mightiest ale" was sometimes too mighty, and although the intemperance of our forefathers was a vice much to be deplored, at any rate their hearty manner of keeping this annual feast was effectual in promoting "goodwill amongst men," and in cheering the hearts of the poor.

In this chapter I have attempted to show the varied amusements and recreations in which our village ancestors took part. On the old village green, which in too many of our villages has been inclosed and become a thing of the past, many of these sports and pastimes once took place. There stood the village stocks, in which the refractory paid the penalty of their misdeeds; and sometimes, too, a pillory was added, which held fast the head, arms, and legs of the culprit, while the villagers, rude vindicators of the law, threw stones, rotten eggs, and other missiles at the unhappy victim. At the edge of the pond you might have seen a long plank which turned on a swivel, with a chair at the end overhanging the water. This was called a "cucking-stool," and was used to duck scolds or brawlers. The culprit was placed in the chair, and the other end of the plank was raised several times, so that the ardour of the culprit was effectually cooled by frequent immersions. These were rough methods of administering justice, but often very effectual in checking vice.

The social customs which formerly existed in each village, the sports and pastimes associated with the village green, the May Day festivals, and the Christmas carollings were of great value, inasmuch as they tended to infuse some poetical feeling into the minds of the people, softened the rudeness of rustic manners, and gave the villagers simple pleasures which lightened their labours. They prevented them from growing hard, grasping, and discontented with their lot. They promoted good feeling between the farmers and their labourers. The customs of the town were a poor exchange for the ancient country manners and amusements; and it was a sad day for our country when the villagers lost their simplicity and the power of appreciating the primitive pleasures of rural England.



CHAPTER XXII

THE VILLAGE INN

Monastic inns—Village inns—Highwaymen—Inn signs—Famous inns— Man-traps.

In almost every village in England there is an inn. Before the Reformation there were very few of these hostelries, as travellers were always accommodated at the monasteries, each of which, as we have seen, had a hospitium, or guest-house, where their wants were attended to by special officers appointed for the purpose, and where they could remain for several days. But the destruction of the monasteries produced many changes in the condition of the country; it introduced the necessity of a poor law, for the poor were always relieved by the monasteries; it required the erection of schools and places for education, as all the education of the country had been carried on in these monastic buildings; and when the old guesthouses ceased to exist, travellers, merchants, and pedlars required some place in which to lodge when they moved about the country, and inns became plentiful as time went on. Hence in almost every village in England there is an inn, which is generally a landmark; and if you wish to direct a stranger to some place where he desires to go, you doubtless tell him to turn to the right by "The Bull," or to keep straight on until he comes to "The Magpie." Indeed, a friend of mine, who is a strong teetotaler, asserts that the only good use inns have is to help people to find their road. But old inns have a great history. In former days they used to be meeting-places of plotters and conspirators. All the distinguished people in the country used to pass through the villages and towns on the great roads through the country, and when the horses were being changed they used to partake of the good fare which the landlord provided. Those were busy times for the old inns, when there was stabling for fifty or sixty horses, and the coaches used to rattle through the village to the inn door long before the iron horses began to drag their freight of passengers along the iron roads, and the scream of the engines took the place of the cheerful notes of the posthorn.

Sometimes a gentleman would ride to an inn door on a beautiful, fleet-looking steed, and receive a hearty welcome from the landlord; but the pistols in his belt looked ominous, and presently some soldiers would steal noiselessly into the inn where the gentleman was refreshing himself, and there would be heard the sounds of vigorous fighting; and often, in some wonderful way, Claude Duval or the noted Dick would fight his way out, whistle to his steed, jump into the saddle, and ride away before his less nimble pursuers had recovered from their astonishment. Very many exciting scenes have taken place in our old inns, but in these days railways have changed all things; and in many streets where the coaches used to rattle along, and the place was alive with merry sounds, the moss now grows, and all is silence and desolation. We should certainly think it inconvenient to take three days to travel from London to Bath, and it would not be pleasant to have a visit from Dick Turpin on the way, and to have all one's valuables appropriated by that notorious highwayman; but in these days of worry and busy bustling it would be refreshing to catch a glimpse of those quiet times when people were not so much in a hurry, and to hear the sound of the posthorn once more instead of the whistle of the steam-engine.

The quaint-looking pictures and curious names which attract our notice as we pass an inn door have some queer stories to tell. We notice a very curious collection of animals sometimes, and a strange assortment of things; and the reason why our ancestors put some of these curious things together is somewhat difficult for us to find out. In olden days, other houses of tradesmen besides inns had signs. Grocers, tailors, candlestick-makers, all had signs; but most of these have disappeared, except one belonging to a certain sweep of my acquaintance, whose house is adorned with the figure of a man coming out of a globe, with the motto, "Help me through the world." Over their doors barbers still have their poles, which represented once the fact that the barber was prepared to bandage up wounded arms and legs, and to perform the office of blood-letting; the stripes on the pole were intended to represent the bandages, and the barber was the surgeon of the town. We do not seem to have so much blood to spare as our forefathers, as the barber always bled his customers once or twice a year, especially in the springtime, the operation being considered very beneficial.

One reason for the curious mixture of animals and other things which we see on signboards is that an apprentice, when he had finished his time and begun to set up for himself, adopted some sign, and then joined with it the sign of his old master. This will account for such curiosities as "The Lamb and Dolphin," "The Goose and Gridiron," "The Fox and Seven Stars," combinations of things for which it would otherwise be difficult to account. Another reason is that signs were taken from the armorial bearings, or crests, of some popular character, or of some great family in the neighbourhood. For example, I may mention "The Bear with the Ragged Staff," which was the crest of Richard Nevil, Earl of Warwick, commonly called "The Kingmaker," who was slain in the battle of Barnet, 1471 A.D. "The Blue Boar" was one of the badges of the House of York. "The Bull" is a very common sign, because it was a very common crest, and we have them in all colours—black, red, white; lions also rage in blue, white, and red attire. Sometimes we meet with "The Cross Keys," the keeper of which was probably an old servant or tenant of an abbey or monastery, and chose his sign from that of the monastery with which he was connected. Frequently, in olden times, a cross was erected at the meeting of two or three roads, or where the pilgrims to Canterbury used to pass; afterwards an inn was built near it, and was, in many cases, called the Cross Inn.

One very common cause of curious signs is the way in which the original word has been corrupted by ignorant people frequently repeating words which they did not understand, and thus changing their whole meaning. You may have seen an inn described as "The Swan with Two Necks"—a very rare bird indeed. But it was never intended to disfigure the bird by giving it two necks; the original sign was "The Swan with Two Nicks" and nicks were the marks which were cut on a swan's bill to distinguish it from other swans, so that it might be known to whom the bird belonged. But nicks became necks in course of conversation, until at last a fabulous creature with two beautifully curved necks appeared on the signboard. This same cause will account for the two strange signs, "Bull and Gate" and "Bull and Mouth." The original signs were "Boulogne Gate" and "Boulogne Mouth," i.e. the gate and harbour of the town of Boulogne, in France, which was captured by the English under King Henry VIII. in the year 1544. The English were very pleased to hear of the defeat of the French, and of the taking of that important town, and several inns were named in honour of the event; but the French "Boulogne" was too much for our good English mouths to speak, so it became "Bull and."

Another name which puzzled our forefathers was "La Belle Sauvage" ("the Beautiful Savage"), which was named after a noted savage beauty who was the rage at Paris. Others assert that the name of the landlady was Isabella Savage, shortened into Bella Savage. However, in course of time the name was altered into "Bell and Savage," and a picture representing this odd combination stood over the door. In the same way the original sign, "Whip and Nag," between which there is often a very close connection, became "Whip and Egg"; and the reason why these two articles should be placed together is not so evident. So also there does not seem any reason for an inn to be called "Bag o' Nails"; but when we are told that the original word was "Bacchanals," i.e. followers of Bacchus, the old god of wine, we can understand how the corruption, "Bag o' Nails," arose. Before the days of licensing, when everyone could sell liquor who chose without obtaining any licence from the magistrates, it was the custom to put a bush over the doorway, in order to inform the passers-by that liquor could be purchased there. This is the origin of the saying, "Good wine needs no bush."



"The Catherine Wheel" tells us the sad story of St. Catherine, who was born at Alexandria, and for converting fifty heathen philosophers to Christianity was sentenced by the Emperor Maxentius to death on a wheel, devised by most ingenious cruelty, armed with knives, saws, and nails. It is recorded that she was rescued from this fate, but was afterwards beheaded (305 A.D.). It is curious that this instrument of torture and the story of St. Catherine's heroism should be recorded on a signboard. But it may have been brought before the public by a certain miracle play, founded on the life of St. Catherine, which used to be performed on festival days. However, the Catherine wheel appears frequently on the coats-of-arms of several families, and it may be that the sign was taken from these.

"The George," also, is a very popular sign; and the "St. George of merry England" is the patron saint of this country, and the battle-cry of her knights and yeomen of ancient days. Who does not remember that stirring scene on St. George's Mount during the Crusades, described in Sir Walter Scott's Talisman, when King Richard tore down the Austrian banner, which the Austrian monarch had dared to erect beside the Royal Standard of England? St George is generally represented as slaying a dragon. He was a soldier who served gallantly under the Emperor Diocletian, and commanded a legion of soldiers; he was a Christian, and by the dragon whom he slew is meant the devil, red with the blood of the Christians. So popular a personage as St. George, whose name inspired our ancestors with courage, and was often borne by them into the heart of the foe, would soon be recorded in paintings and become a general sign. "The Goat" is a common sign, and is taken from the crest of the Duke of Bedford; but "The Goat and Compasses" has puzzled many people as to its origin. It appears to be a corruption of a pious expression, "God encompasseth us"; and this shows how strangely words may be twisted and converted by ignorant and careless usage.

There are some very noted inns where great events have taken place, amongst which I may mention the Bull Inn at Coventry. Here Henry VII. was entertained the night before the battle of Bosworth Field, when he won for himself the English crown. Here Mary Queen of Scots was detained by order of Elizabeth. Here the conspirators of the Gunpowder Plot met to devise their scheme for blowing up the Houses of Parliament. And when the citizens refused to open their gates to Charles I. and his soldiers, no doubt there were great disputings amongst the frequenters of "The Bull" as to what would be the result of their disloyal refusal.

Some of the inns in remote country places did not enjoy a very enviable reputation, and were little better than man-traps, where the unfortunate traveller was robbed and murdered. At Blewbury, in Berkshire, there was an inn, the landlord of which was suspected of murdering his guests with great secrecy and mystery, and no one could tell what he did with the bodies of the victims he was supposed to have murdered. A few years ago an old tree in the neighbourhood of the inn was blown down, and on digging up the roots a skeleton was found among them. People wondered how it could have been placed there, but at last a very old inhabitant told the story of the mysterious disappearance of the bodies of the late landlord's guests, and the mystery was at length accounted for. Whenever he slew a man he planted a tree, placing the body of the murdered victim beneath it. The constables never thought of looking there; and probably under every tree which he planted (and there were several), when their roots are dug up, the bones of his numerous victims will be discovered.

Another story is connected with the old "Hind's Head" at Bracknell, which was another of these mantraps, where many travellers slept to rise no more. One winter's night a stout-hearted farmer stayed there, and joined several jovial companions round the kitchen fire. They ate and drank merrily, and at last the serving-maid showed the traveller to his chamber. She told him that he was surrounded by robbers and murderers, showed him a trap-door at the side of the bed, on which if he stepped he would tumble headlong into a deep well. She directed him to tie the bed into a bundle, put it on the trap-door, and escape by the window. He did so; down went the bundle, instead of the farmer, into the well, and he managed to effect his escape. Rousing the neighbourhood he captured the villains, who were all executed, and the bones of many of their victims were found in the well. Happily such inns were rare.

To describe the conditions of the old inns for which England was famous, of the good fare which awaited the travellers by the coach, of the spacious corridors, of the comfortable beds hung with silk and smelling of lavender; to tell of all the great folk who entered their doors—kings, queens, poets, generals, highwaymen, statesmen, grooms, conspirators, coachmen—all this would require much space to relate. When railways came in, their ancient glory departed; the old stables are destroyed; grass grows in the courtyard; and the object of their existence has almost ceased to be.



CHAPTER XXIII

VILLAGE SUPERSTITIONS AND FOLKLORE

Belief in witches—Survival of water ordeal—Witches turned into hares— Cruelties practised on witches—Bishop Jewel on the "evil eye"— Fairies—Berkshire popular superstitions—Field-names—Homes of famous men—Washington Irving's description of an English village—Rural exodus—Conclusion.

There is yet another class of subjects connected with old village life, of absorbing interest and importance. I refer to the old superstitions and folklore which still linger on in the recollections of the "oldest inhabitant," and which ought to be at once treasured up, lest they should be altogether lost. The generation of those who believed firmly in the power of the "evil eye" of the witch, and who feared to disturb the revels of the fairies on their rings and mounds, is only just passing away. An old gipsy has told me some strange stories of the superstitions of former days. He has told me of the witch at Farnham who made the cows wild and prevented them from giving milk; of another witch who lived at Henley-on-Thames, and who when thrown into the river "floated like a cork." Here we have a survival of the old Saxon method of trying culprits by the water ordeal, often used in examining witches. This particular witch could turn herself into a hare, so my venerable gipsy friend, aged one hundred and six years, informed me, and the dogs hunted her. He told me of the Tadley witch, who "wished" several people, and greatly injured them. It seems to have been a common practice of the old witches to turn themselves into hares, in order to vex the squires, justices, and country parsons, who were fond of hunting, as the old dames could elude the speed of the swiftest dogs. An old writer states "that never hunters nor their dogs may be bewitched, they cleave an oaken branch, and both they and their dogs pass over it." Mary Dore, a witch of Beaulieu, Hampshire, used to turn herself into a hare in order to escape detection when caught in the act of wood-stealing, to which she was somewhat addicted.

Old women were rather harshly used in the days when people believed in the power of witches. If any farmer's cattle died, it was immediately concluded that the animals were bewitched; and some wretched old woman was singled out, and summarily tried and burnt. If anyone fell ill, some "witch" had evidently a waxen image of the sufferer, and stuck needles into it; and such was the power of the witch that, wherever the person was, he felt the stab of the cruel needle. Hence the witch had to be found and burnt. If the corn crops failed, was not witchcraft the cause? for had not old Mother Maggs been heard to threaten Farmer Giles, and had not her black cat been seen running over his fields? Even good Bishop Jewel did not disbelieve in the power of the evil eye. In preaching before Queen Elizabeth he said: "It may please Your Grace to understand that witches and sorcerers are marvellously increased within Your Grace's realm. Your Grace's subjects pine away even unto the death, their colour fadeth, their flesh rotteth, their speech is benumbed, their senses are bereft. I pray God they never practise further than on the subject." To so great an extent did faith in the witches' fatal power prevail. Our forefathers used to believe in the existence of other, and more pleasant little companions than the old toothless witches—the bright little fairies who, on account of the neglect which they have received from the present generation of Englishmen, have, so it is reported, left our shores in disgust, never to return. The previous inhabitants of our villages did not so treat them; and did not the fairies always bring them luck? They nailed the horseshoe to the stable door to keep out the witches, lest the old beldams should ride their steeds by night to the witches' revels; but no one wished to exclude the fairies. Did not the dairymaids find the butter ready churned, and the cows milked by these kind assistants? Was there not an old lady in Yorkshire who knew all about the fairies, had often heard them making butter, and had seen the butter smeared all over the gate by a little green man with a queer cap who had been seen slipping under a culvert? Canon Atkinson told us of this lady who knew all these strange things, and of the Hart Hall "Hob" who worked so hard with his flail, and of many other curious folk who frequented the Yorkshire moors in olden days. The last witch had just died before he went to Danby, but he found the whole atmosphere of the folklore firmament so surcharged with the being and work of the witch, that he seemed able to trace her presence and her activity in almost every nook and corner of the neighbourhood.

The wells all over England were haunted by fairies, and is it not confidently asserted that "the good people" (as the fairies are called) live in wilds and forests, and shun great cities because of the wickedness which exists therein? Have they never appeared to the lonely traveller, clothed in green, with long hair floating over their shoulders, and with faces more blooming than the blush of a summer morning? Then there were the fairy rings formed by the dancing of their merry feet.

"Some say the screech-owl, at each midnight hour, Awakes the fairies in yon ancient tower. Their nightly dancing ring I always dread, Nor let my sheep within that circle tread; When round and round all night, in moonlight fair, They dance to some strange music in the air."

Then there were brownies; and knockers, who worked in mines, and showed rich veins of silver; and elves—all of whom were included in old village superstitions, and many were the tales told of the good deeds they did, and the luck they brought. Nor must we forget the story of the invisible smith who inhabited Wayland Smith's Cave, in Berkshire. Whenever a farmer tied up his horse in the cave, and left the money on a particular stone, on his return he found his horse shod by the kind efforts of the invisible smith. There is also the old Berkshire story of the old witch who lived in a cave by the roadside, and who, by the power of her "evil eye," could stop the strongest team of horses, so that, however much the carters lashed and swore at them, the animals would not budge an inch until she permitted them to go. Here are a few of the common superstitions current in Berkshire. If a corpse be kept over a Sunday another death will occur before the week is out; should a big bumble-bee enter the window, a guest may be expected; and when the woodpecker, commonly called the yaffle, laughs, they say the rain is coming. When the thick mist lies in the valley, the people say it is the White Lady, a belief closely akin to the Dame Blanche, who is said in Normandy to haunt streams. If one row of freshly sown seeds or potatoes does not come up, it foretells a death in the family. If a girl mends her clothes on her back, she risks having a drunken husband. A screech-owl is unlucky, and so also is it if a bird fly against the window.

A woman came to the rectory a few years ago for a drop of sacramental wine, which she wanted for an infant who had "the graspings." This complaint I discovered to be a craving for something, accompanied by restlessness; and it was supposed that a drop of sacramental wine would cure an infant so troubled. If the mother before the child was born craved for drink, this craving was communicated to the child, and could only be remedied by a drop of wine used in Holy Communion. This superstition, which I have met with elsewhere, probably is a relic of pre-Reformation days, and of sacramental Reservation.

A tramp was passing through a Hampshire village a short time ago, and calling at a house, begged for a glass of water. The woman who lived there said that she was sorry she could not give him water to drink, as there was a child in the house unbaptised, and therefore it would be unlucky. The origin of this superstition it is difficult to trace.

These are some of the legends and superstitions which linger amongst us. Every neighbourhood has its stories, its legends, and romantic histories. It is a sad pity that these should pass away without any record being made. Many curious customs and ceremonies relating to christenings, marriages, and burials linger in remote hamlets; and charms, curious remedies, and other relics of the quaint superstitions of our forefathers, are full of interest to the lover of our English villages.

As we walk in the fields, or study the old map of the parish, the names of the fields invite our attention. These are full of interest, and often tell us about matters which would be entirely forgotten. Some names tell us of the great forests which used to exist all over the country, when kings and noblemen, outlaws and poachers, used to hunt the deer and the wild boars in many a successful run. These forests were large tracts of country in its natural state, partly wood, partly heather and grass, which were owned by the king, and were especially brought under the harsh forest laws of the Norman sovereigns.

Some of our field-names remind us of the existence of these old forests where corn now grows, and also of swamps and islands where everything now is dry and far removed from water. Sometimes they tell us of the old common lands which used to be farmed by the villeins and borderers, and of the strange way in which they used to manage their farming. Each man used to keep one or more oxen for the village plough until they made up the team into eight; then they ploughed the land in strips of an acre or half-acre each, divided by a bit of unploughed turf called a balk. Each strip was a furlong, i.e. a "furrow long," i.e. the length of the drive of a plough before it is turned. This was forty rods, or poles, and four of these furrows made up the acre. These pieces of land were called "shots," and there were "headlands," or common field-ways, to each shot; and "gored acres," which were corners of the fields which could not be cut up into strips, and odds and ends of unused land, which were called "No Man's Land," or "Jack's Land." It is curious, too, that all the strips belonging to one man did not lie together, but were scattered all over the common land, which must have been a very inconvenient arrangement for farming purposes. There were also in each village community a blacksmith, whose duty it was to keep in repair the ironwork of the village ploughs, a carpenter for the woodwork, and a pound-keeper, or punder, who looked after the stray cattle. Many of the "balks" still remain on the hillsides where these old common lands existed, and the names of the fields bear witness to the prevalence of this old field system.

They tell us, too, of the way in which attempts were made to force the growth of particular crops, and in many parishes you will find a "flax piece," which reminds us of a foolish Act of Henry VIII. ordering the cultivation of that plant. Metals, too, which have long ago been worked out, and trades which no longer exist, have left their traces behind in the names of our lanes and fields. Also they speak of the early days when the wolf or the bear might be seen in our woods or fields, or of the beaver which loved the quietude of our streams, of the eagle which carried off the lambs undisturbed by sound of the keeper's gun. Sometimes he was disturbed in his thefts by the flight of a good strong English arrow, which came from a sturdy English bow drawn by a good strong English arm. The English archers were famous everywhere, and many a battle has been won by their valour and their skill. A law was passed in the reign of Edward IV. that every Englishman should have a bow of his own height, and that butts for the practice of archery should be set up in every village; and every man was obliged to shoot up and down on every feast-day, or be fined one halfpenny. Consequently, in some villages we find a field called "The Butts," where this old practice took place.[11]

Many villages are associated with the lives of distinguished men—authors, soldiers, and statesmen. Perhaps your village may have bred other poets besides "the mute inglorious Milton" of Gray's Elegy. Not far from where I am writing was Pope's early home, the village of Binfield, which he calls—

"My paternal home, A little house, with trees arow, And, like its master, very low."

On the other side lies the village of Three Mile Cross, where Miss Mitford lived and wrote "Our Village"; and Arborfield, called in her book Arborleigh, about which she tells some pleasant stories, is the adjoining parish. Sometimes, as I ride down a grassy lane, a favourite haunt of the distinguished authoress, I seem to see her seated on a fallen tree weaving her pretty romances, while her favourite dog, which she often describes, plays and barks around her. A few miles in another direction lies Eversley, the loved abode of Charles Kingsley, about whom many stories linger in the countryside. To visit the uncomfortable brick-paved study where he wrote, the garden where he used to pace and think out his great thoughts, is delightfully refreshing and invigorating to a jaded writer.



These are only instances of places which have become interesting on account of the famous men who once lived in them; and England has many heroes of the sword and pen whose lives each Englishman should study; and when you visit their dwelling-places you will recall their achievements, and perhaps endeavour to imitate their examples. Here is an instance of how little the villagers know of the distinguished men who once lived amongst them. The great Duke of Wellington did not live a very long time ago, and yet some friends of mine who were staying at Strathfieldsaye, near the Iron Duke's house, and made inquiries amongst the villagers about their recollections of the hero of Waterloo, could obtain no information. At last one venerable rustic vouchsafed the extraordinary intelligence, "I believe as 'ow 'e were very good at war"! What a thing it is to be famous!

Much more remains to be said upon the various subjects which this history of our village suggests. But the day is closing, and our walk through its sequestered lanes and our thoughts about the various scenes which yonder venerable oaks have witnessed, must cease. But enough has been said to show what a wealth of interest lies beneath the calm exterior of ordinary village life. An American truly observes that everything in the rural life of England is associated with ideas of order, of quiet, sober, well-established principles, of hoary usage, and reverent custom—the growth of ages of regular and peaceful existence. The impression which the appearance of an English village left on his mind is beautifully described in the following passage:—

"The old church of remote architecture with its low, massive portal, its gothic tower, its windows rich with tracery and painted glass, its scrupulous preservation, its stately monuments of warriors and worthies of olden times, ancestors of the present lords of the soil; its tombstones, recording successive generations of sturdy yeomanry, whose progeny still plough the same fields, and kneel at the same altar; the parsonage, a quaint, irregular pile, partly antiquated, but repaired and altered in the tastes of various eyes and occupants; the stile and footpath leading from the churchyard, across pleasant fields, and along shady hedgerows, according to an immemorial right-of-way; the neighbouring village, with its venerable cottages, its public green sheltered by trees, under which the forefathers of the present race have sported; the antique family mansion, standing apart in some little rural domain, but looking down with a protecting air on the surrounding scene. All these common features of English landscape evince a calm and settled security, and hereditary transmission of homebred virtues and local attachments, that speak deeply and touchingly for the moral character of the nation."

One of the most distressing features of modern village life is the continual decrease of its population. All our young men flock to the towns, attracted by the greater excitement which town life offers, as compared with the more homely pleasures of the country. The rural exodus is an alarming and very real danger to the welfare of social England. Agricultural machinery has greatly diminished the number of labourers required on a farm. Agricultural depression and the decreased value of land have caused many old country families to close their old manor-houses, as they cannot afford to live on their estates.

Let us hope that those whose happy lot it is to live in the quiet hamlets of our native land, afar from the noise and din of busy towns, will learn to love more deeply their village homes, and interest themselves in their surroundings. To those who read the history of their native place, each house and field, each stone and tree, will tell its story, and recount the wonders it has witnessed. And as the stories of wars and fights, of superstition and of crime, fall on our ears, we shall be thankful that our lot is cast in more peaceful days, when no persecutions, religious or political, disturb the tranquillity of our village life. And when we read of the piety and simplicity of our forefathers, their veneration of their church, their love of home, their innocent joys and social customs, we should strive to imitate their virtues which have materially helped to make England a great and powerful nation. It is hoped that these chapters upon the old life of our country, and the manners and customs of our forefathers, may induce many of my readers to read and study history more deeply, may serve to create an interest in the relics that remain to us of the past, and to preserve the fleeting traditions that Time doth consecrate.

[11] In many cases the name "Butts" refers to the fact of the land, under the common-field system, abutting on meadows or roads, e.g. "Butt-close," in the parish of St. Mary Bourne.



APPENDIX

BOOKS AND DOCUMENTS RELATING TO PAROCHIAL HISTORY

To anyone who sets himself the task of writing a history of his village, the following notes may be useful. With regard to the etymology of the name, concerning which absurd errors are made in most guide books and old county histories, it would be well to consult Canon Taylor's Words and Places, being careful to study the earliest form of the word in Domesday and old documents. Bede's History, the Anglo-Saxon Chronicles, and other old English chronicles, published by Bohn, may contain some allusions to the parish and neighbourhood, and also Kemble's Saxons in England. The Domesday Book is, of course, a mine of wealth. The Public Record Office contains many documents which will be of great service—the Testa de Neville (Edward II.), Marshall Rolls, Nonarum Inquisitiones, Pipe Rolls, Patent Rolls, Close Rolls, Hundred Rolls, Inquisitiones post-mortem, and the Feet of Fines. The Manor Court Rolls, if they still exist, in the custody of the lord of the manor, should also be consulted. The journals of local antiquarian societies and county histories will of course be examined. The history of the families connected with the parish must be traced. The British Museum and the College of Arms contain fine collections of Heralds' Visitations, and Burke's Landed Gentry and Dugdale's Baronage are the chief sources of information. Old wills will yield much information, many of which are in course of publication by the Index Society, and county archaeolgical journals; and Somerset House and many diocesan registries contain the original documents. The Historical Manuscripts Commission has published many volumes of borough records which are of great service, and the lives of any great men connected with the parish may be studied in the Dictionary of National Biography. As we have already pointed out, the parish chest contains valuable sources of information upon the history of the village, and its contents should be carefully examined.

The registers of the diocese contain many documents relating to the ecclesiastical history of the parish, and from them we can obtain a list of the rectors or vicars. If the church was connected with any monastery, Dugdale's Monasticon will furnish some information. The Public Record Office contains the documents Taxatio Ecclesiastica P. Nicholai IV. and Valor Ecclesiasticus, which give an account of the value of the first-fruits and tenths, and also some volumes on the sale of chantries, and the inventories of church goods. The name of the saint to whom the church is dedicated must not always be accepted, in spite of years of usage, and should be confirmed by reference to some early will of a chief person of the village buried in the church, which usually gives the name of the patron saint. The story of the church writ in stone should be traced by the various styles of architecture, with the help of Rickman's Gothic Architecture or Parker's Glossary of Gothic Architecture. If there has ever been a monastery in the parish, Dugdale's Monasticon should be consulted; and if there are any remains of a castle, Clark's Mediaeval Military Architecture in England will be useful. Prehistoric remains, such as barrows, earthworks, pit dwellings, and caves should be described; also any Roman roads and villas; the flora and fauna of the neighbourhood, geology, folklore, and dialect.

The following books are recommended:—

Evans' Ancient Stone Implements of Great Britain. Evans' Ancient Bronze Implements. Boyd Dawkins' Cave Hunting. Boyd Dawkins' Early Man in Britain. Greenwell's British Barrows. Fergusson's Rude Stone Monuments. Cox's How to Write the History of a Parish. Wright's Essays on Archaeological Subjects. Parker's Mediaeval Domestic Architecture. Sims' Manual for the Topographer and Genealogist. Burn's History of Parish Registers. Seebohm's English Village Community. Toulmin Smith's English Gilds. Haine's Manual of Monumental Brasses. Bloxam's Principles of Gothic Architecture. Tanner's Notitia Monastica. Cutts' Middle Ages. Lee's Glossary of Liturgical and Ecclesiastical Terms.

INDEX

Akeman Street, 60 Aldhelm, church-builder, 103 Alfriston clergy-house, 180 Alignements, 46 Allington rectory, 180 Almshouses, 181 Altars, 191 Amphitheatre, Roman, 67 Anchoresses, 183 Anchor-hold, 183 Anglo-Saxon villages, 74-89 Archery, 277, 298 Architecture, English, 102-24 Arresting a dead body, 227 Arrow-heads, 20 Art of Husbandry, 255 Astrology, belief in, 222 Aumbry, 192 Avebury cromlech, 46

B

Ball-flower moulding, 118 Barkham in Domesday, 128 Barnack Church, 106 Barrows or tumuli, 23-3 " long and round, 25 " near churchyards, 23 " Saxon, 90-3 " their contents, 24, 29 Basilica, Roman, 66 Beacons, 268 Beating the bounds, 276 Bede, 75 Bell-ringing customs, 250 Bells, 245-53 " christening of, 246 " inscription on, 247-50 Benedict Biscop, 103 Benedictine monks, 161 Bewcastle cross, 98 Bishops, treating of, 229 Black Death, 255 Blood-letting, 167-9 Blowing Stone, 52 Bordarii, 131 Border castles, 140 Brachycephalic race, 21 Brasses, monumental, 212-18 Bridal cup, 207 Brief Book, 226 Brighthampton, pit dwellings at, 33 British Church, 93 " oppida, 34 " roads, 60, 61 " saints and martyrs, 94 Bronze Age, 21, 40 Budworth hermitage, 182 Burial urns, 29, 30 " urns in woollen, 220

C

Caesar's camps, 50 Camps, 50-52 Carthusian monks, 162 Castles, 135-53 Cave men, 16 Celts, 21, 34, 37, 56 Cemeteries, Saxon, 92 Censers, 205 Chancels, 190 Charles II., adventures of, 267 Chaucer's satire on monks, 160 Chepstow Castle, 140 Chest, parish, 218-29 Chivalry, 143, 148 Chrismatory, 206 Christmas in olden time, 278 Chun Castle, 51 Church ales, 258 Church bells, 245-53 " house, 258 " plate, 200-8 " yard, 243 Churches, parish, 184 99 Churchwardens' account books, 223-6 Cistercian monks, 114, 161 Civil War, effects of, 153, 220, 265 Cloister of monastery, 163 Cluny, monks of, 161 Consecration crosses, 239 Conversion of Saxons, 94, 95 Crannogs, 38 Cremation, 28, 29, 92 Cromlechs, 46-9 Crosses, Saxon, 95-101 Cross-legged effigies, 211 Cucking-stool, 280

D

Decay of old sports, 271 Decorated architecture, 117 Desecration of monasteries, 159 Devil's Highway, 61 Dog-tooth ornament, 116 Dog-whipper, 228 Dolichocephalic race, 19 Dolmen, 49, 50 Domesday Book, 125-34 Donnington Castle, 152 Druids, 48, 50

E

Early English architecture, 115-17 Earthworks, 50-6 Easter sepulchre, 193 Edge Hill, battle of, 264 Edwardian castles, 140 Emblems on brasses, 217 Enstone, menhir at, 45 Eslithic man, 14 Epitaphs, curious, 243 Ermyn Street, 60 "Evil eye," 291-3

F

Fairford windows, 232 Fairies, 56, 293 Fairs, 261 Feudalism, 141 Field-names, 296-8 Flint implements, discovery of, 11 Flint implements, 15, 20 Fonts, 186 Food in barrows, 24, 25 Football, 277 Force-pump, Roman, 68 Frescoes, 234 Friars, preaching, 161 Future life, belief in, shown by barrows, 24

G

Gambassi, glass-painter, 232 Geburs, 82 Gentleman, accomplishments of a, 149 Geological changes, 11-13 Glaciers in Britain, 12 Glass, stained, 230-3 Glastonbury, pit dwellings at, 37, 41, 42 Green, village, 8, 280 Grims-dike, 54, 55 Grosmont Castle, 141 Guizot on castles, 141

H

Hagioscopes, 194 Hall marks, 208 Harvest homes, 275 Hastings, battle of, 264 Heart burial, 222 Hedsor, pile dwellings at, 37, 38 Hereivard the Wake, 264 Hermits, 181 Hexham church, 104 " crosses, 99 Highwaymen, 283 Hocktide sports, 225, 273 Homes of famous men, 298 Hospitium of monastery, 169 House, evolution of country, 172-7 Hundreds, origin of, 87 Hurstbourne, Hants, pit dwellings at, 34

I

Ice Age, 12, 13 Iknield Street, 60 Ilkley cross, 99 Inigo Jones, 176 Inns, 7, 282-90 Inventories, 201 Iron Age, 21 " work in churches, 233 Itinerary of Antoninus, 59

J

Jervais, glass-painter, 232 Johnson, Dr., on monasteries, 159

K

Keep of Norman castle, 137 Kelvedon rectory, 179 Kenilworth Castle, 151 King's evil, 228 Knaresborough hermitage, 182 Knighthood, admission to, 145

L

Laindon reclusorium, 183 Lammas lands, 79 Lecterns, 191 Legends, 44, 55, 263 "Lepers' windows," 195 Lich-gate, 242 Local Government, 254 Low side windows, 195

M

Manor-house, 172-7 Manors, 79, 133 Man-traps, 289 Markets, 260 May Day, 225, 273 Mediaeval village, 254-70 Menhir, 45 "Merry England," 256 Milestones, Roman, 61 Miracle plays, 274 Misereres, 191 Monasteries, Saxon, 102 " 154-71 " charity of, 159 Monastic day, 166, 167 " inns, 282 Monks, benefits conferred by, 155 " corruption of, 160 Monstrances, 206 Monumental effigies, 209-12 Mothering Sunday, 273 Mouldings, Decorated, 118, 120 " Early English, 116 " Norman, 112 " Perpendicular, 123 Mural paintings, 234-41

N

Neolithic man, 15, 18, 20, 37 Norman architecture, 109-15 " castles, 135-53 " place-names, 132 " villages, 125-34 Normans, coming of, 125

O

Ockwells manor-house, 173 Ogee arch, 118 Organised condition of society among prehistoric races, 31 Ornaments, Saxon, 91 Osculatorium, 192 Oxford, poor scholar of, 229

P

Pageants, 149-52 Paleolithic man, 14 Palimpsests, 213 Parish chest, 218-29 " registers, 218-23 Paschall money, 225 Pastimes, 271-81 Pavements, Roman, 71, 72 Pax, 192, 206 Perpendicular architecture, 120 Pews, 187 Piers Ploughman, 165, 174, 181 Pile dwellings, 37-43 Pilgrimages, 259 Piscina, 192 Pit dwellings, 33-7 Place-names, 76, 101 Plague, 255-7 Plate, church, 200-8 " " in bishop's coffin, 202 Ploughman's lament, 84 Plough Monday, 272 Porch, 185 "Pot-boilers," 36 Pre-Reformation plate, 202-5 Pulpits, 188 Pytheas of Marseilles, 10 Pyx, 191, 206

Q

Quintain, 277

R

Raglan Castle, 141 Reading Abbey, 171 Reading-pews, 197 Reclusorium, 183 " at Rettenden, 183 Rectories, 177-81 Registers, parish, 218-23 Religion of Saxons, 93 "Restoration," 199 Rollright Stones, 46, 47 Roman relics, 57-73 " rig, 54 " roads, 58-62 " villas, 70-3 Rood-loft, 188 Royal arms in churches, 190 Rural exodus, 300 Rush-bearing, 276 Ruthwell cross, 97 Ryknield Street, 60

S

Sacring bell, 252 St. Christopher, 238 Salisbury Cathedral, 115 Saltways, 61 Sanctus bell, 252 Saxon architecture, 106-9 " house, 172 " monasteries, 102 " place-names, 76, 77 " relics, 90-101 Saxons, coming of, 74, 75 Screens, 189 Secret chambers, 177 Settle, Victoria Cave at, 17 Shires, origin of, 88 Shrovetide sports, 273 Signs of inns, 284-8 Silchester, 54, 62-70 Slavery under Saxons, 84 Sluggard waker, 228 Smoke farthings, 226 Socmen, 83, 131 Spenser's description of hermitage, 182 Sports and pastimes, 271-81 Stocks, 280 Stonehenge, 46 Stone monuments, 44-50 Stourbridge Fair, 261 Sudeley Castle, pageant at, 149-51 Sun-worship, relics of, 27 Superstitions, 44, 295 Switzerland, pile dwellings in, 38-41

T

"Terraces," 19 Tesserae, 65, 71 Thanes, 80 Thane's house, 81 Thuribles, 205 Tiles, 233 Tournaments, 146-9 Tudor arch, 121 " houses, 175 Tumuli, see Barrows Turf monuments, 53, 54 Twelfth Night, 272 Tympana, Norman, 110

U

Uffington, 52-4 Ufton Court, Berks, 176, 178

V

Vernicle, 201 Vestry, contents of, 196 Vicarages, 177-81 Villas, Roman, 70-3 Villeins, 130, 255

W

Wars, 262-70 Watling Street, 60 Wayland Smith's Cave, 27, 294 Whalley cross, 96 " reclusorium, 184 White Castle, 141 White Horse Hill, 53 Whittenham Clumps, 52 Wilfrid, St., 96, 104, 108, 230 Witches, 291 " turned into hares, 292 Woollen, burials in, 220 Worlebury, pit dwellings at, 34

Y

Yeomen, 83, 131 Yew tree in churchyard, 241

THE END